Firstly, apologies for that last post. Boring huh. I was trying to find other pieces of furniture that push my buttons because well, I like furniture, but you know, tiredness and searching skills on the internet just didn’t quite hit it off.
Yes I am aware that is what the “draft” button is for, but you suckers get me boring posts and all.

Grover is a month old today.
One Month.
Who knew!
I still haven’t quite worked this little fella out. He’s quite wakeful and difficult to settle… in that he likes to be held. And is awake. A lot. This morning I was up with him feeding, crying and screaming some more from 3 until, oh 5 fucking 45.
And yes, that is a real, official in a Greenwich kind of way, time.
I have called him Whingey McCranky Pants on quite a number of occasions.
He does like to have a good long scream, with an impressive dropped bottom lip, peppered with these little “huh” sighs when he’s taking a breather. Either his gut hates my breast milk or the kid just likes the sound of his own voice.
He’s started to smile which is really very lovely and he has the most lovely lilting cooing sound that does indeed endear him to me even more.
And so his life is underway.
Here is where I could do the whole “Dear Grover” post, but really? Na.

I just returned from Oscar’s IEP (Individual Education Plan) meeting. Apparently we’re not calling it an IEP anymore, I think the word Education and Goal were mentioned but I sort of forgot to listen.
These meetings make me feel ill.
I formulate all these scenarios in my mind where they’re going to ambush me with a Powerpoint presentation on just how bad Oscar is. Just how far behind his peer group. Just how hopeless the situation is. And just how much we’re kidding ourselves that mainstreaming him was a good idea.
Not that I’m prone to melodrama. Or anything.
Of course, it was nothing like that.
We talked about his issues (that he actually likes being different and having his own rules or directions for things and that as he gets older he needs to just follow the rules for the pack. Oh how I yearn for him to be a sheep.)and what our goals are.
We’re all on the same page.
There is no questioning of our choices for Oscar, just discussion on ways to make it work and to ensure good outcomes (and how I HATE that word) for him.
And there you have it.