Counting

Lucy is learning the concept of numbers. For a long time, every time she saw a group of things, she would announce there were "two" of them. So, the collection of 5 horses in a field was "2 horses," the row of 3 birds on a telephone line was "2 birds," the long line of traffic coming the other way on the road was "2 cars."

We tried substituting "lots" for her -- "Oh, that's a lot of cars, isn't it!" -- but it didn't take. So, we took to counting them. "2 horses? Oh, I see... 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 horses!"

She's getting there. Now she sits by the window in the car and "counts" with numbers in random order, but still generally ends on "two!" "One, three, five, two, three, four, one, two, three, two cars!"

Miscellaneous updates

• I still check up on the girls' birth mother periodically. Kayla went to jail in late November and stayed there until very recently. She gained a significant amount of weight while incarcerated (and complained about that on Facebook), but was so very thin before hand that I suspect she's actually closer to a healthy weight now than she was. She also commented about the weight being a result of being sober. I hope that her time in prison helped her break her addictions. What remains to be seen is whether her social circle is such that will support a lifestyle change to stay that way.
• We're half expecting a DFCS call in about 9 months telling us there's another baby. (To which we will have to say: thanks for letting us know, feel free to share our contact info with this one's foster/adoptive family. There's just no room at this inn.)
• Peter got his driver's license. There's a 15 year old Toyota Camry in my driveway that is "his to drive." Having him able to get himself (and his siblings over age 2) places has simplified life a bit. In our state, he's not allowed to drive friends for the first 6 months (and then only 1 at a time for another 6 months). (The not-driving-littles is a family rule which he is perfectly okay with obeying. They're just too distracting as passengers.)
• Lucy has learned how to say "help", which is awesome for letting her tell us when she needs us to step in and when she wants to work at it and figure something else. She's also taken to saying "helper" when she wants to do something for you that she thinks will be helpful. Like pick up the Cheerios that Jill has dropped out of the high chair.
• Susan will go to high school in the fall. We've had a meeting with her special ed team at the middle school as well as a representative from the high school to talk about the "transition plan." It all sounds pretty good. The real test will be next fall when she gets a whole new crop of teachers to work with and we find out how well the IEP gets enforced at the high school level.
• Lucy has begun saying "stop it!" Eek. I wondered and guilted myself and struggled to remember -- do I say that to her too much? I don't think I've heard others say that particular phrase much? Then, I heard it come out of my mouth. And realized I do say "stop it" quite a good bit . . . to the dog. (She jumps at the television whenever there's any kind of animal on it and I scold her to "stop it!" She barks at the UPS truck making a delivery across the street and I fuss "stop it!" She growls at the bird in the back yard and I snap "stop it!") 

Doctor's Visit

I love my pediatrician's office. Today, I was reminded why.

C, who I think I shall begin calling "Jill", had a well-child visit. We were 15 minutes early because it was the first visit since the adoption was final, so there was new insurance and a name change and I wanted to give the office staff plenty of time to get all taken care of before our appointment time.

They were running late. Way, way late. It was over 30 minutes after our appointment time before we were called back to a room. That's 45 minutes in a waiting room with a 9 month old and a 2 year old.

(That doesn't sound like a reason to love them, does it?)

Here's why I love them:

• Front office nurse apologized for the wait part way through.
• Nurse who called us back apologized again.
• Second nurse came in to help distract Lucy with crayons and a coloring book while Jill's vitals were taken and intake questions were asked.
• When the doctor came in, she apologized again.
• And -- on top of all the apologies? -- the doctor's only response to Lucy's meltdown while we were trying to get through the exam was "that's age appropriate."

I know delays happen. Appointments run long, people arrive a little late, children don't cooperate. I've always liked that they never feel like they are rushing through the appointment to get to the next one. But today, I really appreciated the total lack of judgement when I was feeling embarrassed by my 2 year old's "age appropriate" behavior.

(Jill is doing fantastic, by the way. She's on the small end of the growth chart, but staying steady on her curve; development is right where it should be. That, by itself, makes for a wonderful doctor's appointment, given the way her life started.)