Just Another Day

My lovely daughter, who is about a year or so behind developmentally (give or take a few months) is still not potty trained.  I'm OK with that, as long as she tells me when she has poo-poo. Unfortunately, she is known for being a bald-faced liar, denying the presence of it even as I am checking her diaper. Today, I kind of figured she was in the process of going poo-poo, as she often will go into the playroom (for privacy, I suppose) when she needs to go.  I can see into the playroom about 80% from where I normally sit, and there happens to be a couch separating the living room from the playroom (don't ask, this is a weird floor plan) so that makes me sort of unable to see most of the floor unless I'm standing. Anyhoo, I see her hanging around in there, and I ask her if she is finished.  Mind you, I'm not exactly watching her like a hawk or anything, I'm deleting old programs from the DVR while looking over occasionally. I'm sure you can already tell t...

So today was Ms. P's first day of special education preschool. It apparently went well. Although both the teacher and I agree that this might not be the case come next week when she isn't quite as overwhelmed with newness. I knew that there would pretty much be zero trouble leaving her the initial time, as she will willingly walk with anyone who is talking to her. Sure enough, the teacher (who is a zygote compared to moi) greeted her by name, and even though Ms. P looked at her like, "How exactly do you know my name?" she was fine with leading the line into class.  Even though she didn't really know what leading the line was at all, and kept stopping to look around. So I had the same shiver of sadness run through me that I always do when I leave my children with strangers that I need to trust.  But it was tempered by the knowledge that she truly needs this program and she loves other kids and people so much that it will be so much more beneficial than be...

Hubba-hubba enjoys shopping at Costco more than I do, so he is usually the one who goes there.  I think it has a lot to do with the constantly changing inventory.  Anyhoo, he came home the other day with a coffee cake.  I looked at him and said, "Who actually goes and buys coffee cake?" He said, "I do! I love coffee cake.  It's my favorite." Seriously? Who the hell picks coffee cake, out of all the hugely delicious cakes in the world, as their favorite? My weird spouse, apparently. In other news, we had our daughter's IEP meeting today to determine her eligibility for special education services, and I was expecting a bit of a fight.  I am so used to institutions being unwilling to extend services that I am kind of conditioned to a fight response at this point, I think. Instead, we were actually a bit overwhelmed at all the services they wanted to schedule her for, which includes a five day a week language-immersive preschool, occupational the...