I haven't been neglecting blogging for any particular reason.
I just don't have anything to say, really.
Things here are pretty normal. Except that Andrew is going for a swallow study tomorrow. Yes, you read that right. It says "Andrew," not "Benjamin." He's always been a picky and slow eater, but it's gotten really bad lately. He just chews food and holds it and sometimes complains that it won't go down his throat. His pediatrician sounded concerned, so we went to see her last week. She said his tonsils weren't exceptionally large, but that she wanted him to see an ENT doctor, but she wanted him to have a swallow study done first.
For those of you who aren't familiar with a swallow study, here's the gist. You take the child in hungry. (His appt is at 1:00 p.m., so he can eat a light breakfast but that's all.) They coat several foods (banana, cookie, applesauce) and some liquids (thin and thick consistencies) with barium. (Thankfully, they can also add flavoring to it, something we never had to do w/Benjamin, but will most likely be necessary w/Andrew.) Then they have the child eat each food and drink each drink while they take a video x-ray of the entire process. The barium shows up nicely on the x-ray, and they are able to determine if the food and liquids go where they're supposed to go, and if the child has any abnormalities swallowing.
Because of the x-ray part, Matthew is having to take Andrew, since x-rays and pregnancy don't bode well together.
Oh, we have some ants in our kitchen. Not many, so far, and the exterminator is coming tomorrow. At least it's keeping the cats entertained.
OH! Benjamin has started to sign a little bit. We've been working. And working. And working on sign language for many months. Mainly just the basics. So the other day, actually while the boys and I were waiting for the doctor to see Andrew, I gave Benjamin some Cheerios (Multigrain, his favorite) in his stroller snack tray. When he finished them, he looked up at me, put his chubby little fingers together, and made the sign for "more."
I might have cried.
And then I called Matthew, and he might have cried.
See, when you have a delayed child, it worries you when things are delayed even when you know they're going to be delayed. Some children w/DS don't talk until they're three or four. Or six or seven. Or never. Seriously. This is my possible reality now.
But now he's started to communicate. Even if it's just a little bit.
It gives us hope.
Plus, he's just so dang cute when he does it.
Now we're working on "all finished," which he's done a few times, but not when he's really finished.
Oh, well, it's a start.
Oops. Guess I did have some things to say.