So much for my conviction to update this blog at reasonable intervals.  In my defense, we've had a rough few weeks. 

G., my oldest, was recently diagnosed with Tourette's Syndrome.  Right now this is just a name for what we were already experiencing at home, because we're in the process of finding more doctors for him.  (The neurologist we saw for the initial visit was a joke.  But at least he gave us the diagnosis so we can get referred to a psychiatrist who can help.  TS is a genetic disorder which involves dopamine production and distribution in the brain.  The tics aren't caused by nervousness or stress, although they can be exacerbated by both.  What's more troubling for us is the other conditions that often accompany TS, such as ADHD, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, and the phenomena known as RAGEs, which is when a kid with TS throws a temper tantrum for very little reason at all.  G's tics are pretty mild, but helping him deal with every day frustrations is exhausting.  That's why we went for help.  (And in the future, I think I will blog about some of our experiences, such as that rotten trip to the neurologist.  Maybe our experiences can help somebody else.)

 K., my six year old daughter, slipped on the ice New Year's Eve and broke her wrist.  For two days we thought it was only sprained.  As it was over a holiday all the orthopaedic clinics were closed, and our pediatrician, after numerous phone consultations, told us to keep ice and an eye on it. By Tuesday morning, her wrist looked more swollen than it had to begin with, so I called the doctor.  The only problem was that we were in the middle of a snowstorm.  The doctor's office was understaffed and not answering their phones.  I called the "emergent situation line" (a potentially broken wrist is "emergent", isn't it?) and finally got somebody, but was scolded for using that number.  We live an hour away, our cell phones weren't working, we're down to only one car right now, and my husband had to do some certification testing in a place across town, plus there were the babies to coordinate, so I was a bit frantic.  When we finally got to the doctor, we had to wait for an hour, only to have a medical student misdiagnose the problem first.  By the time she actually got her cast (hot pink, of course), it was dinner time.  I was proud of her, though.  She handled everything like a real trooper, and asked the doctor an enormous amount of questions in a very mature manner.  At that moment, I could see the differences that homeschooling makes.  I certainly would not have felt comfortable asking an adult all those questions at the age of 6.

The babies only sleep in fifteen minute catnaps all day long.  Even with the addition of swings to our household.  But I am getting some support in that direction through the wonders of the internet, and am holding up a little better these days :-).