The Mind Boggles

Wednesday we got a phone call from our service coordinator at Somerset County Early Intervention letting us know that Micah's application for hearing aids was approved. Since the application went from the county to the state on the 10th, the turnaround time for this is supposedly quite fast (unless you're the parents of the child who needs the hearing aids who are looking at the calendar thinking it's THREE months since we got home from China, what is taking so long?). Yesterday the letter actually arrived from the SCHEIS (Special Child Health and Early Intervention Services - if you know German, you know what letter is missing to make it a very appropriate acronym) informing us that we could call the audiology department at JFK (another of the banes of my existence) to set up an appointment for a hearing aid fitting/distribution. So this morning, with one child occupied on the computer and the other destroying the living room, I got on the phone with JFK.

And the audiology department hasn't gotten its letter from the state yet, so no appointment. Once all of this fall into place and the hearing aids can be ordered, it's about two weeks until they come in, and then the wait for the appointment - so we'll have probably been home with Micah FOUR months by the time he's amplified. But it is boggling my teeny tiny brain that I have a letter telling me to get an appointment and cannot do so.

Then later this afternoon, there was a message in our voice mail for Steve, a woman named Debbie from Mercer County EIP stating that Micah had been enrolled with the state's birth defects registry and she wanted to discuss services available because she had received Micah's packet from the state. Huh? Services we've been receiving through Somerset County, where we live, for the past two months. Our mailing address is Princeton, but we're in this odd little corner of Montgomery Township that is in the southernmost part of Somerset County, so in the real world, the equivalent would be trying to convince people you live in Brigadoon. So whatever documents our Somerset County EIP service coordinator needs to do her part in the adventure of getting hearing aids are now languishing in a Mercer County EIP outbox waiting to be sent on to Jessica or into The Void. And the mind boggle rollercoaster rockets onward.

All of this once more proving that if I was going to be diagnosed with a cerebral aneurysm, it would have already happened because it would have blown wide open after the morning/afternoon I had.

Meanwhile and far away, it was a good day for the kids, other than Micah whacking his sister over the head with a toy wooden rolling pin. Thea survived, but with many tears and a nice goose egg - but the saving grace to pull us out of any post-whacking funk was that we met Steve at Panera's for lunch. Micah's ibuprofen dose kicked in; he's cutting at least four, possibly more, teeth so he's somewhat miserable in his cheerful Micah manner; Thea tried salmon from Steve's lunch. After eating, Thea was game to go to Snip-Its for a bang trim- which was a bonus for me because usually there is cajoling and bribing involved in the haircut process.

While Micah slept this afternoon, we tried on Thea's Halloween costume. She wants to be an international super spy, a la Pablo of The Backyardigans. We put together a child's white (polyester) dinner jacket, dress shirt, black bow tie with a pair of black stretch pants and black patent leather shoes. Add a pair of black glasses - and voila! She was quite pleased with the result. (Pictures to follow.)

Dinner tonight was courtesy of my new NP colleague, Karen. Her husband went tuna fishing and got two tuna so yesterday at work there was a nice chuck of tuna in an airtight, sealed freezer bag. And Thea loved the tuna - eating her entire piece and then some. Even Micah, who is trying out being an ovo-lacto vegetarian on for size, or so it seems, tried a bit.

Now it's 11:30 pm, our neighbors just called awhile ago and dropped off their Emily, one of Thea's absolute favorite friends, on the way to the ER in New Brunswick with their younger child who had a fall at daycare with a nice knot on his head and woke tonight throwing up. Emily scores huge points for her resilience - she just took her blanket and stuffed animal and climbed into Thea's bed. Thea's bed is in a state of shock that someone is actually sleeping in it - we're using it with Thea to read books, but she's still sleeping between us. Which was fine back in the days of a 25 to 30 pound two-year old but is not as wonderful now that she's a 50 pound boulder. Thea will be in for a surprise in the morning if Emily's still here.

So with all that going on, I won't bore you with details of Micah's and my trip up to the Parent-Infant Group at Summit Speech School. (Where, while Micah was engaged in productive activities geared toward enhancing his communication skills, I was sitting in a room of mommies discussing their cats and dogs and other stuff that might have been therapeutic for them, but was an hour or so of my life that I am not going to get back. When the facilitator tried to engage those of us who were reorganizing our mental sock drawers rather than talking about pets by asking, "Lydia, do you have pets at home?" I told her that yes we did, an almost seven year old guinea pig that I wish would die so I could reclaim that corner of the dining room and not have Micah trying to figure out whether he wants to put aspen chips with guinea pig feces in them into his mouth. Sort of a conversation killers, but it was too good to pass up.)