Passports & Microtia

Everyone's US passport has expired (except for Micah's and that's because I haven't applied for one for him yet.)  Yesterday after taking Thea to the OLSAT testing and to soccer practice, we went to the UPS store to get new photos done. Then my evil plan is to send Steve's and my applications in to the Passport Agency and make an appointment with the post office in Princeton Junction to get the kids' passports done.

Right now Thea is in between haircuts, so her bangs are a little low and her hair is long enough to push behind her ears.  While in Maryland in February, Miss Tammy, who gave Thea her very first haircut, trimmed the bangs, but Thea's bobbed/wedged style is the creation of Miss Flo at Snip-Its. Her hair had to be forced behind the ears, in addition to slicking her bangs off to one side with a little water, so that her eyebrows and ears were visible in the photo.  It's a rule, according to the guy taking the pictures, so while we are satisfying whatever regulation the US government (the lovely people who brought you the Shut Down That Almost Was) has for biometric data, we have now a passport photo that looks absolutely nothing like my child.

And I won't even begin to bore you with mine, other than I would not use water on my bangs to get them out of the way, and the guy took about five shots before he got something he thought was acceptable.  (I was in "whatever will get it through the renewal process"-mode.  Do it, I look like this every day and there is precious little a UPS store clerk with a digital camera could do to make me look like Heidi Klum.)

What bothered me was that the photographer kept saying, I have to be able to see the ears.  OK, fine for Thea and me, that's a little bit of fussing and pushing to get hair out of the way.  Good luck seeing Micah's ears, looking at him face to face, you might see a bit of ear lobe off to the side, and then what to do about the BAHA.  People wear their eyeglasses in their passport photos, why shouldn't Micah wear his hearing aid?  To be safe, we had one set of with and one without done and we'll see what happens.

TV-Free for 7 Days. . .

. . . .thanks to a flyer from Thea's school.  Thea said she wanted to participate yesterday, and did well this morning before school, but the facade cracked a bit during the after-school / pre-dinner hours as actual withdrawal set in.

But she held firm, and we got back into the final chapters of The Penderwicks on Gardam Street, which we've been working on since before the move to Plainsboro.  Micah got two Llama Llama books read to him, one by me and one by Thea.

All in all this TV-free, electronic-game free thing is not so bad.

Just don't touch my laptop.

Another IEP Review . . . .

. . .all geared toward making sure Micah is ready for mainstream kindergarten.  Unfortunately, I don't think he will be making the cut as far as being eligible for Extended School Year and the speech services that would go along with that.  He's already met his occupational therapy goals as far as fine motor skills, his general education teacher, special education teacher and speech therapist all seem to think all is well.

But. . . .

Micah's tympanic membranes and ear canals are created, not indigenous. and they could change due to scar tissue, growth or whatever and that could affect his hearing.  We work daily to make sure that everything is done to optimize his hearing:  a steroid nasal spray, Claritin, Children's Sudafed, ear drops after baths or swimming.  He is still choosing to use one BAHA to help him hear better.  When he is in a classroom with twenty other little kindergarteners, he will likely need an FM system.

Go ahead and try to cut us loose.  I've had the card of a special education attorney tucked away somewhere for almost four years.

If the school district tries to say that Micah is no longer in need of an IEP (individualized education plan), it has another thing coming.  I already bear a grudge related to the whole charter school issue, I would love to be a festering little thorn in its sides.

Badgers in a Sack. . . .

. . .would probably squabble less than my children.  Today's issue was Micah's going to Target and Toys-R-Us to use gift cards he got for his birthday.  At Toy-R-Us he hit a sale on Bakugans, chose wisely and got three battle gear for his Bakugan (as I understand it, some sort of combat accessorizing that can be attached to the Bakugan once it's opened.)  At Target he wanted a game for his Nintendo DS and again got lucky with a sale on Spiderman, and he also picked out Pokemon styluses to further complement his device.  (Points to me for figuring out how to get him into the Spiderman game and setting it up for the easiest level.)

Upon coming home with his loot, big sister's nose went majorly out of joint for a multitude of reasons.  She's never gotten a gift card on her birthday (but what about the GameStop gift card she received for Hanukah?), Micah spent 'my' money (no, he actually used his gift cards and I used $0.06 left on one of his cards to print photos), and he should just hand over the battle gear as reparations for a piece of battle gear Micah thought she had given to him and he gave to a friend (rectified both by enforcement of a 'no trading' rule and by Micah purchasing a new battle gear for her months ago), his birthday was WEEKS ago and he's STILL getting presents, the litany of grievances was unending.

Thea's whining was horrific, made worse by Micah knowing his good fortune was a source of torment for her.  What I hate about Thea's tantrums is that she does not go away, she sticks to me like glue and she is too big for me to pick her up and toss her in her room.  She just wants to beat me over the head with the facts as she sees them, over and over and over and over.

Having just had a wicked headache last night, I was going to murder her if she set another one off.

Then she had the idea to go outside and work off her aggressions by using her brother's Nerf shooter and another mistake was made letting her go outside without reminding her to unlock the door.  She did not remember to set the lower lock so that she could get back in, and Micah and I were upstairs and in the back of the house, thankful for the relative quiet.  So she pounded and pounded and pounded until the lightbulb went off in her little brain and she rang the doorbell, which I heard and promptly went downstairs to open the door. To find an upset, even more hostile runny-nosed beast.

And after a lesson on making sure she can get back in if she goes out, everyone went back upstairs and Thea and Micah have been playing Lego Ninjagos for the past hour, peacefully.  Go figure.  And so went Saturday.

Photo Catch Up

 Happy Purim!

March 18, 2011

 Thea receiving her four try-its and four patches, March 11, 2011

 The end of the Brownie meeting, watching for the hand squeeze to make its way around

Thea's part of the Brownie promise: to be friendly and helpful.

 Micah and Max at Sarah's birthday party, March 12, 2011

They are a pair of wild guys.

 This is what happens when Mom goes for a refill of ice tea, trouble.

It's All Good Today. . .

It's Friday, and I'm off today, and off Monday.  Still with barking cough, and getting a little bit fed up with it, but otherwise today was good.  I dropped Micah off at Beth Chaim, went over to Princeton to pick up my new pair of glasses (I now have two pairs of tortoise shell frames, the heir and the spare, so the red Ray Ban frames are back on the bench.)  Briefly popped by It's A Grind for a beverage and muffin before coming home and going on a mission that could be best described as the Great Dust Bunny Round-Up of 2011.  Side bonus was one more cardboard box of junk got sorted out and moved off the landing and I hung a few pictures in the bathroom.  I'm back in fighting mode again.

After cleaning, I went back to Beth Chaim to retrieve the boy and zip back to Plainsboro to Thea's school for the Brownies award ceremony.  Today was the day the troop leaders were giving the girls the try-its (badges) they'd earned and the patches for events they had participated in (the Bonfire, Ice Skating, Crafting for the Community and Thinking Day).  Her vest will look much more interesting when I get around to ironing them and sewing them on.

Two minor annoyances this week that fall into that "Be Nice to Me or I Will Blog About You" category:

To get my new eyeglasses I had to have an eye exam, which was with a new provider.  I had ditched the doctor Steve sees after Dr. Felton invited a student into the room without asking my permission which bothered me at the time.  Add to it his personality being in the realm of a soggy Brillo pad, it was time to try someone new, so last time I saw Dr. Epstein and he was fine other than wanting to see me sign up for laser vision correction. But I had to switch my appointment to be able to switch Saturdays with Karen which landed me in Dr. Reynolds schedule.  He was very nice, definitely from my part of the Baby Boomer age spectrum.

He did land one minor nail in his coffin by saying to me which will have me returning to Dr. Epstein or shopping for yet another provider in the group in two years, "I can ask you because you're a year older than I am, you have a five-year old and a seven year old?"

What out of any of that sounds the least little bit positive?  Pointing out that I am OLD? Pointing out that most people MY AGE do not have children as young as mine? Yes, you can ask me, but the answer may not give you all the information you're looking for.

Momentary pause on my part to determine how much information I feel like sharing  with a person I've met not more than ten minutes prior, and from whom my ultimate goal is to obtain a new prescription for glasses without being branded preachy psycho patient from Hell.

So the answer was (wait for it, wait. . . . ), "Yes, I do, a seven year old daughter and a five year old son."  In that way signaling the discussion of the ages of my children vis-a-vis my age was closed.  And on with the exam, is number one clearer or number two, number two or number three. . . .

Yes, I could have been the little ambassador mama for adoption, but his job was to examine my eyes and assess their health and write me a new prescription for glasses, not delve into how my family came about or what my ovaries and uterus may or may not have been up to in 2003 and 2006.  Information that did not seem to be vital for this type of exam.  Yes, I am an older parent.  My 'problem,' if you see it that way, not his.  If I really wanted to deflect, I would have told him my husband is going to be 60 this year. 

The first pair of glasses made at the Optical Shop were ready last week, it took slight longer for the pair obtained through VSP.  I am happy to retire my red/lavender frames which were bought to be a fun, every now and then pair but upon the disappearance of my tortoise frames last year and their failure to turn up when we packed up the house for the move they were 'it'. Major excitement on my part, it does not take much these days.

Next annoyance.  Principal of Thea's school. DR. Wellborn.  Doctorate by virtue of an Ed.D. degree, so in my hierarchical, pecking order conscious mind, Ph.D.-lite.  He's pleasant enough, but when Thea went for testing at Wicoff last July, he introduced himself and was doing the jolly "Welcome to Wicoff" routine and had not grasp of how his audience was reacting.  She took an almost immediate dislike to him since this was the first meeting and she's not great meeting new people especially if she senses someone is being ultra-friendly in a false sort of way, it is is just hopeless.  And me, I'm just not that 'into' people who toss their titles around.  (The principal of my long-ago elementary school was Mrs. Mary E. Long, no letters after her name, respect earned daily by her broad portfolio of skills.)

Anyway this week there were a few snafus with the transportation for Jackson and Thea to their after school Mandarin tutoring, so this email was the 'be on time' wrist slap.

At the beginning of the school year we had form upon form with our contact information, names, phone numbers, emails, etc. to fill in and return. And I also registered with the school district's Infinite Campus system (which I think of as Infinite Pain-in-the-Ass, but that's another story.)  The school district has all my information and then some.

So when the email came with the salutation "Mr. and Mrs. Albin" I wanted to beat Mr. Wellborn, Ed.D.

Initial hostile reaction aside, the school's student population is predominantly Asian and Indian heritages and many of those married couples do not have the same last name, we are not some sort of anomaly in the community where we live.  Secondary reaction, you obviously got the information from something I provided, so if my email address is correct, my name should be too, especially when I get the sense that he tries almost too hard to be the super-deluxe-PC type.

But rather than waste my time and energy getting myself branded psycho parent from Hell for asking that I be addressed by my correct name, I deleted the email.   One more year of that place and Thea will move on to Millstone River and there will be a whole new set of people to irk me (though I remember that most of the Millstone River staff were very nice when Micah was there for ESY last summer.)

Every now and then I think about changing my name, mostly for the sake of having it the same as the kids' last names so I don't feel like I need to travel with their adoption certificates.  But the kids don't have a problem with my last name being different (they rather like it since it gives them a sense of being in the Albin majority in our house and outnumbering the lone Grebe.)  And I like my last name the way it is.

The Boy is 5. . . .

. . . .which isn't all the different from four.  Same quirky sense of humor, same love of Bunny Bear, same desire to be fed rather than feed himself, same middle of the night trek from his bed to ours.

 Last Sunday, in between ice skating and Chinese school, Thea's Brownie troop represented New Zealand at Thinking Day (also known as World Friendship Day.)  I am counting this as one of those rare days that Thea consented to wearing a skirt.  For the short time that we could stay there, she got 29 stamps in her 'passport', had snacks from Australia and Taiwan, made lots of swaps and actually enjoyed herself.