Ballooooooon boy

Can you guess what word Quinn is saying??

NOW you tell me...

Quinn is being tested to see if he qualifies for a public pre-school program for kids with developmental delays and disabilities. First he has to get his hearing tested so today we traipsed down to see an audiologist at our local school district. The minute I saw the probe she wanted to stick in Quinn's ear I knew this was going to be a bad scene. And it was. He started crying the second she touched it to his ear and grew increasingly upset until he hit a state of full-on hysteria. I tried distracting him, holding him during the test, taking a break, and nothing helped.

When the sweetest-keeled kid I've ever met looked over from his happy play break and let out a blood-curdling scream when he spotted the probe in the waiting audiologist's hand, she sighed and said she was just going to have to refer him to a local hospital. I asked why - did they intend to sedate him? "No," she said. "They have a fun sound booth over there where kids can hear sounds bounce off the walls rather than have to hear them inside their ear." Whaaaaaat? Why did no one even mention that was an option? We could have saved the poor child a truly traumatic experience.

I'm new to the public school thing, but this sure taught me a lesson. I need to ask questions before submitting Quinn to these mandatory tests. What are our options? Is there a gentler version of this test available? I know almost nothing about his early months but I do know something in his makeup or something in his past makes him easy to scare in instances like this. It's up to me to sniff those out in advance and try to prevent them. Lesson learned.

Suddenly afraid of the dark

Since coming home in November 2008, Quinn has insisted on total darkness to sleep. His two worst nights were at the White Swan, until we realized that a little lamp under the bedside table was keeping him awake, and out first night in Tucson, until we turned off the night light in his room.

But suddenly, inexplicably, he's scared of the dark. He was crying after I put him down the other night, which is HIGHLY unusual for him, and when I went into his room he was pointing at the tiny light on his baby monitor camera. After a few minutes I plugged in the old, abandoned night light and he laid right down and went to sleep. Every night since, if I turn on the night light he goes right to sleep; if I forget he cries.

Has anyone else seen anything like this? Any ideas on what might cause such a sudden switch?

Renaming the 'rents

First Quinn renamed the dogs, then he moved on to all four grandparents. Now it's our turn. At least for this phase, the grown-ups formerly known as Mama and Baba are called Mimi and Bobby.

Surgery is scheduled

It's time.

Dr. Waters wanted us to wait to do the surgery until Quinn's mobility and range of motion stopped improving. He still is showing some very gradual improvement, but in the meantime he's developing a series of work-arounds that result in him using his right arm less and less.

We shared the latest range measurements and these details with Dr. Waters' staff, and they decided it's time to go ahead. April 29 is the first opening, and of course we couldn't get tickets with our frequent flier miles that week. We didn' want to push it much later and subject Quinn to a summer of hell in a cast and brace. So I called American Airlines hoping to get a mom I could appeal to, and lucked out! She agreed to appeal on our behalf, and her supervisor agreed, and that guy's supervisor agreed, so we got the tickets.

I'm relieved, but nervous.

The joys of ice cream

I ordered some ice cream the other day because it's something I can eat despite my broken jaw. Quinn has shown very little interest in hard-packed ice cream (he does like soft-serve) so I didn't think he'd take too much. Ha! He took a bite, then slid the whole parfait glass in front of him and wouldn't give it back.


I thought he'd give up when he ate through the vanilla and got to the green tea ice cream. Ha! He loved that, too. He did finally stop when he hit the cut-up roll cake at the very, very bottom of the glass. Finally I got some!

One stupid move after another

Sometimes, we really are our own worst enemy. I took an overnight biz trip to Phoenix last week, and my stomach started feeling weird by mid-afternoon. I picked at a small salad for dinner, watched some TV, started shivering and went to bed. When it was pretty clear I was going to throw up, I got up, went into the bathroom, and, bam, passed out cold. I woke up in a puddle of blood, and THEN threw up.

A smart girl would have called 911. Or at least called her husband. Not me. I did think about calling 911, but I decided there was no way I could get to my cell phone WAY across the big room - and even if I could, there was no way I could then get back to the door, which I had bolted, to let in the paramedics. So, bleeding, hurting and with a potential head injury, what did I do? Crawled to bed with a pile of towels to sop up the blood coming from my mouth, ear, nose and a huge gash on my chin, and WENT TO SLEEP. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I bled the night away, then got up, took a shower and decided it really was time to get some help. Did I go to the closest emergency room? Of course not. I wasn't sure what my insurance would cover and I didn't want to be stuck in Phoenix for another night away from Tom and Quinn, so I DROVE TWO HOURS home and called my regular doctor - who saw me and sent me straight to the emergency room. Again, stupid, stupid, stupid.

The diagnosis? I fractured my jaw in one place and broke it badly in another - and the bone from that break ruptured my ear canal. Got a CT scan and stitches in my chin, followed up by surgery yesterday to reset my jaw. Thankfully, I'm only wired shut at night, as the doc wants me moving my jaw during the day in hopes of working the jaw joint back into place.

Of course, this happened during Tom's busiest work week of the year. So my sainted mother - God, how I love that woman! - has come over every day, all day, to help. Tom was out of town the day of the surgery, so she came over and stayed. Her job was to play with and care for Quinn and my job was to rest - and avoid doing anything else stupid!

I seriously could not have made it through this week without her. Thank you, Mom!!!! I love you!