The Intensity Intensifies

My apologies for the lack of further Halloween photos. Things have been rather intense lately and the will to blog has been lacking.

It’s not you--its me. Seriously.

To start with, my Aunt Ann passed away on Halloween. Her services were Monday and Tuesday and we weren’t able to make the trip to Ohio to attend. I was sad not to be there and supersad to think that the curtain has come down on my Dad’s generation of Benfords. That type of person--the depression era, WWII vet, family all in the same town, work in a factory so your kids can go to college, first generation American--for most of my peers, that describes their grandparents. For me, that describes the major players of my childhood.

Sigh.

The other big news is that Donovan had his first speech therapy session on Monday. The session was more of an evaluation so as to figure out how his therapy should proceed. Pat from our first session was there as well as the speech therapist. It was fascinating but it was also THREE HOURS LONG. Donovan and I got home right around 6 and Pat was waiting on the porch for us. They didn’t finish up until around 9:30. Between not having dinner and the intensity of the session I actually broke down and cried. I hate doing that in public and, for future note, when it looks like I’m going to cry, its not really a good idea to hug me because then I will lose it. Also, I question the appropriateness of saying, sincerely and brightly, “Don’t worry!!!” Please: you don’t know who you’re dealing with here. Worry is my gravity: without it I’d fly around the room backwards like an unknotted balloon. That night and the next, I went to bed at around 10, I was just so exhausted from it all.

But you didn’t come here to listen to me. You came to hear about Donovan. He’s been doing really well and making some progress in the talking area. He’s now saying all of the letters in the alphabet and trying to spell his name. He’s also taken our game of Wild Babies to a whole new level by instituting a sort of sumo wrestleresque leap onto me. There are few things funnier than seeing a wildly smiling toddler hurtling towards you in midair. It hurts but its damn funny.