Good News and Bad News

First, the bad news. When I returned to work after having Fletcher, I returned in a part-time capacity. Fletcher needed to be my priority and I wanted the flexibility of a reduced-hours work schedule to accommodate his needs. I was hesitant to take on additional responsibility because I knew that would interfere with Fletcher's optimum care. I will never regret that decision. However, enter the perfect storm of less-than-ideal market conditions, one of our biggest clients going under, my boss retiring, and a sharp decline in deal volume, and I think you know where this is heading. I have read that the key to job security in economic downturns is making yourself indispensable. Well, in order to maximize flexibility, I had set myself up to be the exact opposite. And, as a result, on Monday I was dispensed. Laid off. Dismissed. Let go.

Yes, I am going to miss this skyline view from my office window.

But I am happily trading it for this one.

While this isn't what I planned for, or what I would have chosen given the option, this does give me the opportunity to be a full-time mom for a little while, which brings me to the good news. If all goes as expected, Fletcher will be a big brother this summer! My wonderful sister Angie (Dorothy in the Halloween post below) is nearly 11 weeks pregnant as our gestational carrier. Fletcher's little sister is due mid-June. My mom has been giving Fletcher one of his cousin's dolls to play with to get him used to the idea (see the camera phone photo below). He does like to cuddle, but usually ends up chewing on its head. Yikes.

Cutting Back

Times are tough, and I haven't talked about it here much, yet, but if you have ever read any other blogs about kids with special needs, or if you are reading this, chances are you know first hand, that all of the therapies, equipment, medical bills, special diets, etc., etc. are not cheap.

So, like everyone else, we are trying to curtail our discretionary spending. No more fancy kid-themed hair salons for this boy. Being frugal is doing nothing to improve my scissor skills, however, so I enlisted the help of the best jack-of-all-trades that I know... Grandma. Cousin Maren was the willing assistant. She asked if she could cut his hair, and when we refused, she volunteered to be the official comb dipper (in water) but that still was too risky, so she agreed to just distract Fletcher when necessary.

The First Cut with Maren Assisting by Putting on Chapstick

(the girl is a chapstick fiend)

Not Too Worried About Fletcher's Tentative Expression but the Help's is a Little Concerning

Not Too Shabby, Thanks Grandma!

Check out those Molars

While we had to clean up our mess afterward, and there was no cool pink camo smock for me to wear while I held him (in fact, as you may have noticed, his Child-Rite seat did a pretty good job positioning him at first, although to get the back I did have to hold him), overall I think it was worth saving the 25-or-so bucks.

Wordless Wednesday: Preparing for Winter

Grandpa Adams

Today was a beautiful day. The weather was perfect, Trevor was home, Fletcher was happy and healthy, we had a nice dinner at my dad's favorite restaurant with my entire family (except my 16-year-old sister who was, get this, sleeping. At 6:30 pm. Oh, 16-year-olds) and all the kids were even relatively well-behaved. It was a great time, except for one thing, the occasion we were marking with this dinner. It is the five-year anniversary of my dad's death. Five years ago today he was driving my then-just-turned-11-year-old sister to choir practice when he suffered an unexpected and fatal heart attack.

I know this blog is supposed to be mostly about Fletcher, and I try to keep it upbeat even in the face of all of our challenges, but I just couldn't let today go by without at least acknowledging my dad and how much he is missed. I show Fletcher pictures of him from time to time, the grandpa he will never know, and I can't help but feel sad. You see, his personality was larger than life, and pictures alone could never do him justice, nor can a few little lines hastily typed on a blog in the middle of the night.

My little brother Kenny found another way to remember him, but he didn't use a blog (oh, 23-year-olds).

Dog Wrestling

Fletcher has been taking more of an interest in Zoey lately. He will track her visually across the room and will look around on the floor if you ask him where she is (which is a big deal because he doesn't like to look down without coaxing due to either visual or motor difficulties, it is hard to tell which). In fact, when she is around he pretty much has an eye on her at all times, at least if he is also on the floor, because she has a bit of a licking habit. I know, surprise, surprise, she is a dog after all.

For the past year and a half, we have done a decent job of keeping the two separate, as Zoey can get a little over-exuberant with her licking, and being a typical dog who loves to kill and eat squirrels and rabbits and anything she can catch (I mean, that is typical, right? I don't have some blood-thirsty crazed killer living under my roof, do I? I mean, she has only been successful two or three times in the past year), you never know where that tongue has been.

Now that he is almost two, Trevor and I have decided to allow a little more interaction. So Fletcher and Zoey got to play together tonight. Trevor was referee to keep the face-licking to a minimum.

Note that Fletcher is wearing the Babylegs I bought him as part of his munchkin costume. Although I am sure Trevor will protest, I think they are going into the regular wardrobe rotation... they are too cute!