sputnik; eighteen months in orbit

Hey, I hoped y’all enjoyed that little jaunt into the wayback year of 1999. I doubt I’ll have that many posts in one month again for quite some time, if ever. I probably confused the heck out of my server.

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So yeah, Sam’s 18 months old, so I figured I’d give a status report. He actually won’t be 18 months until this Friday — hey, I’m early for once!

Well, let’s get the big rocks out of the way first and get up to date on the speech thing. We’re starting to dive into the Early Intervention waters now, and I’m becoming more well-versed with SIs, SLPs and IFSPs.

When Sam was evaluated last month for Early Intervention, not only did he qualify based on his speech delay, he also qualified (more than 25% delayed) based on the other four things he was tested for: cognitive, social/behavioral, physical, and self-help. Speech was the worst, so there is a thought that the speech affects the others, but we really don’t know and can’t worry yet about why — we just have to start therapy.

We have met with a Special Instructor (SI), and we meet with them again tomorrow. It is their job to observe Sam and then give Steven and I helpful ideas/tricks/etc. to use with Sam during everyday life. A big one has been sign language, and Sam has really started to pick up on it. What a change it has made in just a few short weeks, too. He signs three words so far: ‘more,’ ‘please,’ and ‘cheese.’ The first time he said ‘more,’ it was a revelation. Communication! Praise be, we can communicate with our son!

Sam also understands a few signs we do, like ‘fruit,’ though he doesn’t do the gesture himself. He also has begun to hum or sing-song a couple of words: ‘uh-oh’ and ‘thank you.’ It’s hard to describe in print, but he’s not quite saying the word, but you know exactly what he means. He’s just not enunciating.

One thing Sam picked up on that still blows my mind is he can mimic Hermione very well. He starts with a ‘D’ sound, then goes ‘dahhhhhhh’ in a high-pitched voice, going higher and raspier until you’re not sure if it’s him or the cat. Whenever he sees either cat he tries to talk to them in this fashion. It’s wild.

Sam still gets pretty frustrated at times, though lately there have been days where he has what we call ‘good days.’ I am hoping the frustration is starting to go away now that we do have some sort of communication going on. The SI told us to completely ignore his fits and ignore him when he is in one, even if we don’t know why he’s mad. That has been pretty hard.

As for other aspects of Sam, I think he’s doing pretty good. He’s turning out to be quite a daredevil — this kid has no fear of heights. He loves to be thrown, flipped, swung, or spun. He has no sense of gravity. He still worships the ground Lydia walks on and follows her everywhere. Lydia, for that matter, loves him just as much. She calls him ‘Sam Brother’ and she has even picked up on the sign language.

I am flummoxed when it comes to Sam’s hair. I’m a girl who always desired long hair plus I grew up with a sister — I have no idea what to do with boys’ hair. Steven shaves his off. Sam’s hair is growing like a weed. It’s been trimmed twice in his lifetime but the second time was barely a cut because he kept getting mad. He does not like people messing with his hair. Yesterday I was able to put it in a little ponytail. I’m tempted to take Steven’s little buzzer razor to it. Sam might let me. Maybe worth a shot?

We had Thanksgiving last week. Sam had a great day with no meltdowns but he wasn’t all that keen on the food. Unfortunately we’re still having to avoid egg and rice but eggs are the foundation of Thanksgiving. I can make egg-free cupcakes all the live-long day but there’s no way to make egg-free cornbread dressing or apricot cake. I did make a Sam-safe squash casserole, and he loved that. He also got a kick out of his Aunt Cathy’s apple pie. He wasn’t a turkey fan, though. Running all over creation with his sister and cousin was also great fun this year.

So. Eighteen months. December and Christmas is a-coming. I bet Sam screams in Santa’s lap this year. That’s okay. We’ll still have Santa some egg-free cookies waiting for him on Christmas Eve. Come and get ’em, Santa.

7/23/99 Day 15 “Plane Day, Take Two”

[This is the last of a series of entries I wrote in a travel diary I kept during the summer of 1999, when I went on a two-week long trip to Europe with people from my high school French class. Thankfully, many friends and my one-day husband were included in that group. Sadly, I have not yet had a chance to get back to Europe again, but I will again someday. I still have a desire to live there, though emigration is a hard thing to accomplish in any country. And I still don’t like planes. — Present-day Carrie]

Hey, I’m 39,000 feet over New Jersey. Or Pennsylvania. Hard to tell; the map has no state lines. Watching the channel on the plane that shows where we are & how fast & how high up, so forth & so on. Should land in Atlanta in about an hour & a half.

We left the hotel at 4:45 a.m. Italian time. Yawn. Flew from there to Gatwick in England in a 737 (very small plane*) & now we’re on the magnificent 777 from London to Atlanta. I like these planes, they give you blankets & drinks & food. Had salmon for lunch. It was quite good actually. Lunch by Italian time though. My body thinks its 8:35 pm, but in Atlanta it’s 1:35 pm, & in Birmingham it’s 12:35. Easier to recooperate from the jet lag going this way though.

Now I think we’re over Maryland.

Definitely going to have to go to Europe again sometime. Now I know more what to expect, & what I like and don’t like.

Gonna stay in Switzerland for at least a week next time. Just ride those boats. & I would go to Italy if I could get an air conditioned hotel. It’s awful hot there.

Ug, I think I’m gonna try for some sleep here. My body clock is so wacked out**.

*Freakin’ puddle jumper. Never again.

**Never slept on the plane, either way. What if, before I closed my eyes, that was my last conscious moment before the plane crashed while I was sleeping?

7/22/99 Day 14 “Pompeii Day”

[A continuation of my travel diary I kept during my Grande Tour de Europe: 1999. I’m typing it up for posterity. Or something. — Present-day Carrie]

[horrible handwriting; worse than usual] On the bus going back to Rome from Pompeii. Can you tell? Really really nifty. Got oodles of pictures.

Italy needs to do something about their roads. They’re quite bumpy.

We have to get up at 4 in the morning though. Egad. Probably gonna save my sleep for the plane. Oh what I would give for my own hair conditioner. Angie got the wrong one & my hair has hated it for 2 weeks.

I also wanna go to the Galleria & spend American money on stupid American stuff.

Journey to Pompeii (bigger)

Pompeian casualties (bigger)

Various columns (bigger)

Floors, Doors, and Ceilings (bigger)

Edge of a water basin (bigger)

Penis art (bigger, heh heh)

Various Pompeian things (bigger)

More Penis Art (bigger), this actually served as a sign for a whorehouse

Good view of Pompeii (bigger)

Another good view of Pompeii (bigger)

Storefronts (bigger)

Steven enjoys a beverage (bigger). This is the place where Paul accidentally left his camera. At least it was at the end of the trip.

Driving back from Pompeii (bigger). On the way back from Pompeii, the bus stopped in Naples so everyone could run down to the Mediterranean Sea. I was too tired to get out of the bus. Stupid Carrie

Paul does the “chin thing.” (bigger)

Packing to go (bigger)

7/21/99 Day 13 “When in Rome Day”

[A continuation of my travel diary from the summer of 1999, which I kept as I travelled through Europe. — Present-day Carrie]

Good Lord, it is so hot down here. And these crazy Italians act like they have never heard of air conditioning.

I think the heat’s gotten to their heads. Today we went to the Vatican, therefore we had to wear jeans. Wasn’t too bad, though. I got to see the Sistine Chapel! It was so very eye-opening. I don’t know quite how to describe it. For so many years you hear about it & see pictures and movies and books & books & books, but you never actually think that you’ll see the genuine article. Actually painted by Michelangelo.*

What was also sorta nifty was that a few years ago I was reading a magazine that was talking about how they restored the paintings in the chapel, & it pointed out this one slight of hand that Michelangelo made in the Last Judgement. Where there was supposed to be a serpent’s hand, it was flesh colored like a human’s. I’m not pointing this out to say ha ha he made a mistake; it just reminds me that everyone is human, even the magnificent Michaelangelo.

Earlier today we saw the ancient ruins of Rome: the Coloseium (sp?), a sacred passageway, & a bunch of temples of all sorts. At one point we sat on a foundation of one of the buildings, & I got a small rock out of it. They were very loose. I think it was the Roman’s version of cement. Very neat to have a rock that served a purpose such as that, holding up one of the great temples of ancient Rome.

Oh, what else did we do? Saw so much stuff. Rome would be ok if it wasn’t for the heat. One of those cities you visit in early spring. Oodles better than Florence, though. ‘Course, I had a bad experience in that city.

Just one more day, then we’re heading back to the states, which reminds me. Last Friday, I think, JFK Jr’s plane crashed near Martha’s Vineyard. Him, his wife, & her sister are presumed dead. I don’t think they found their, um, remains. How morbid. Oh, & yes, it was international news. That’s how I found out.**

And what joy. I get to ride on a plane day after tomorrow. We’re going from Rome to Gatwick in London, then from there to Atlanta, then drive back to Alabaster. Speaking of, today I bought an egg made out of alabaster. To remind me where I come from.

Tomorrow we’re going to Pompeii, which I’ve also read so much about but never thought I’d actually see it. Gonna be an all day thing.

Gotta get up early, so I suppose I should go to bed. I’ve written so much today; I’m so proud of myself. Not of the handwriting, though. Oh well. C’est la vie. La vie.

The Coliseum (bigger)

The Roman Forum plus bonus columns (bigger)

Columns and Cremations (bigger)

The Man Himself (bigger)

Looking towards the Vatican (bigger)

The Vatican City (bigger)

Inside St. Peter’s Basilica (bigger)

Mosaics and Fountains (bigger)

More Fountain (bigger)

*Favorite thing I saw the whole trip.

**The vacation curse strikes again. We were all in an Italian restaurant, eating real Italian pizza (which is nothing like American pizza), watching their news, trying to figure out what had happened back in America. Finally our waiter translated for us.

7/20/99 Day 12 “Bus, bus, & more Bus Day”

[We continue to look back at my travel diary that I kept during the summer of 1999 when I traveled through Europe for two weeks. In Italy, I learned how to say, “No nuts,” in Italian. — Present-day Carrie]

Hey, noticed I slipped a day. Word to the wise: don’t eat Italian food, Especially when you’re allergic to it. I was sick all yesterday. Haven’t been sick like that in a long long time. Not very fun.

But this morning we saw Michelangelo’s David, which was really neat. There’s so much emotion in his face. & now we’re on the bus heading for Rome. Yesterday I saw Michelangelo’s grave, & Dante’s, & the guy that wrote the Barber of Seville. But now I’m tired & I’ll probably take a nap.

Il Duomo (bigger)

More Il Duomo (bigger). All I had to do — all I had to do — was walk around to the front of the baptistry there, just a few more steps, and I would have seen Ghiberti’s bronze doors. But did I? Noooooo. So much I missed in Florence. So much.

Where we were at (bigger)

Horrible freakin’ picture (bigger), only included for the sake of truthiness.

Working towards David (bigger)

7/18/99 Day 10 “‘Nother Long Bus Ride Day”

[ A continuation of my travel diary from when I traveled Europe in the summer of 1999. — Present-day Carrie]

Yeah, we’re on the bus again. Hopefully it won’t bus this time. Heading down to Florence.

Yesterday was very spiffy. We walked around Lutzern, & this was the first time when I felt a great desire to actually spend copious amounts of money. I got a Swiss watch necklace thing that has a drawing of the sculpture of the dying lion on the back (Steven got the chain for me isn’t he sweet!) but I cheated and used my American Express card. Steven got a really nice pen. I also found a nice pearl necklace for Cathy, & a genuine Swiss Army knife for Dad. And hold on, I gotta drag out my passport . . .

Oh, never mind. Don’t need it. We just crossed over to Italy. Anyhoo, we also went up to Mt. Pilatus, the mountain where it’s said that Pilot Pilatus was buried or something like that. It was amazing up there. So high up. Almost too high up. I slipped once & scared the poop out of me. I wish we could stay in Switzerland longer.

Oh, first thing I’ve noticed about Italy. The tunnels. My God the tunnels. And they’re dark so I have to stop writing. Guess it’s cause of all the mountains, which are magnificent.

Dave seems to like Italy. First country he’s overwhelmingly splurged about.

Swiss ducks (bigger)

Swiss Big Ben (bigger)

Lucerne from a boat (bigger)

Lucerne with contrails (bigger)

Views of the river (bigger)

More views of the river (bigger)

Oooh . . . Ahhh . . . (bigger)

Oooh . . . (bigger)

Aaah . . . (bigger)

Oooh . . . (bigger)

The last aaaah for a while (bigger)

Gotta light? (bigger)

*It was somewhere in Switzerland that KenandAngie became just Ken and Angie. Thankfully, there wasn’t much angst for the rest of the trip. At least, I don’t remember any. Once again, Ken could enlighten us.

7/17/99 Day 9 “Switzerland Day”

[And we continue the travel diary I kept in the summer of 1999 as I traveled through Europe. Let’s find out if I finally escaped from France. — Present-day Carrie]

Wow, this is a nifty hotel! And a nifty little town!* How come we’re only staying here for one day?!

But I must finish yesterday’s story.

We pulled into that no food place at a little after 2:30. We didn’t leave until 6:00 p.m. By a simple thing as blowing out a tire, we lost 6 hours, what a mess. See, when we pulled into that new place, they retreaded the spare tire & eventually got it on. Then the bus wouldn’t start!

It needed a new starter engine or something so we had to wait on that.

Somewhere along the line my nose started bothering me so Steven gave me some Benadryl, & wham I was out for the count. Felt good to sleep though.

Finally the bus started** (I remember everyone cheering in my zombie state) & went on to Switzerland. Got to the hotel around 11 or 11:30ish, & we were supposed to be there at 6:30. Really nice hotel. Big rooms, spiffy-looking, cute, comfortable beds. But I’m gonna go search out breakfast now, & then we’re going on a 2 hour walking tour.

*Lucerne, Switzerland

**I truly don’t recall since I was drugged up, but I think one of the chaperones from one of the other groups (The Gangstas?) actually fixed the bus. Ken, help me out here.

7/16/99 Day 8 “10 hour Bus Ride Day”

[We are still continuing with my travel diary from the summer of 1999 when I had the opportunity to experience Europe. I liked France until I went there. — Present-day Carrie]

Yes, folks, you heard (read) me right. We’re just gearing up for a 10 our bus ride through France to Switzerland. About to leave the French hotel and Paris.

Let’s see, what’d we do yesterday . . .

Oh yeah. Went to Musee d’Orsay, which is where there’s a lot of Impressionist paintings. Saw Cathy’s favorite Degas paintings, & I saw some Monets & some Renoirs. Wonderful. Then we went to lunch & walked around a whole lot, then we made our way toward the Louvre.

On the way Steven & I got on this gigantic Ferris wheel & saw a wonderful, tres formidable view of Paris. Got some good pictures.

We didn’t walk around in the Louvre much. Our feet were killing us. Saw the Mona Lisa. Very brown. So much stuff in there; magnificent. Saw Venus do Milo 8 winged victory & some stuff that I’ve seen before but can’t think of the name.

Then we went & ate, then got on a ferry boat & sailed down the Siene. Now that was fantastic. All the famous buildings are right along it, almost in a line, one after the other. Hopefully those pictures come out as well. Saw the tunnel that Princess Diana had that fatal wreck in.

That’s about it for yesterday. Today’s events are still a mystery, since it’s only 8:19 in the morning.

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We’re on a bus. I’m freezing. And we’re not moving. On the side of the French equivalent of an interstate. About 10 minutes ago we blew a tire — one of the inside ones & therefore complicated to fix, so we’re gonna be here a while it seems. [Steven’s handwriting] Hi, I’m bored. Its steven, by the way. [/Steven’s handwriting]

Wish we could’ve at least stopped where there was some good scenery, but noooo, we’re in some sort of forest and powerlines.

[two games of tic-tac-toe and a game that I can’t remember the name but it’s a bunch of squares with our initial letters]

[sketch of the view outside the bus window, with note, “You know I gotta be bored when I start drawing the boring view outside my window.]

[sketch of bee and three stick figures that look like were sketched by Steven. I drew the bee.]

Oh, God, we’re being attacked by huge mutant French bees! There’s 2 of ’em in the bus, very near me. Lord! They’re trying to kill them but they’re only making it madder.

Yay, they got it. But there’s another one. Steven’s after it. [Steven’s handwriting] I missed. Pooh!! [/Steven’s handwriting]

Oh well.

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Okay, we’re finally on the move. It’s 2:31 now, & we blew the tire around 12:10. The problem was . . . the French police. They are so inefficient. Right now we have a French police escort cause they still think the new tire is unsafe. Save, our tour director, cussed them out*. Course, he’s British, too, so he doesn’t like French. I can see why.

Now the police are making us pull in this place (w/ no food) to get a new tire. Lord.

Musee d’Orsay (bigger)

Such Great Heights (bigger)

More Great Heights (bigger)

Louie Louvre (bigger)

A rare finished painting by da Vinci (bigger)

Naked statues (bigger)

Paris by boat (bigger)

More Paris by boat (bigger)

Musee d’Orsay by boat (bigger)

Sunset by boat (bigger)

*Dave cussed out the French cop when the cop tried to get on the bus. That I remember clearly. He did it in French, and it was pure poetry.

7/15/99 Day 7 “Aujourd-hui, Paris”

[This is a continuation of the travel diary I kept during the summer of 1999 when I had the pleasure of touring Europe for two weeks. This entry explains some of why I always remember why July 14th is Bastille Day. That and my odd love of history. Quick, what happened in 1215?? — Present-day Carrie]

It’s still the morning so I don’t know what happened w/ this day yet. I’ll do that later. Last night the French people celebrated Bastille Day. Steven, me, Ken, Paul, Mrs. Byram, & Mac went to the top of the Arc de Triomphe to see the fireworks. Wow, it was a spectacular view! You could see the whole layout of Paris. The Eiffel Tower was magnificent-looking b/c of the lights they shine on it. And the fireworks were wonderful, too, even though we got kicked off the Arc (not literally) because it closed.*

The Frenchmen like to light their own fireworks themselves. The loud big bang kind. And they get a kick out of throwing them in places where they would echo quite well, & near crowds. One landed very near us when we were going down to the metro, & scared us so very very bad; we decided to go straight to the hotel. We were all nervous; I know the poop was scared out of me.**

Think I got to bed around 1, which is better than the 3:30 from the night before.

And now it’s morning. I’m watching Teletubbies in French. Scary. Au revoir Tinky Winky! Au revoir! Au revoir Dipsy! Au revoir! & so forth and so on.

Oww, that sneeze hurt.

*Seriously, halfway through the most spectacular fireworks display of the year, the Parisian stewards of the Arc come up and say the monument is closed, everybody off, go go go, down down down, now now now. No fireworks for you!

**Our whole group was so shaken up by the crazy Parisians and their cherry bomb antics that we made jokes with each other to try to lighten the mood. It’s how we all dealt with stress. Except Mac. He was pissed and he wanted everyone to know it. We all eventually came to words in the Metro and it was one of the few times I have ever seen Steven yell.

7/14/99 Day 6 “Bastille Day”

[A continuation of my travel diary from when I went to Europe in 1999. Whenever it happens to be July 14th, I comment to those around me, “Hey, it’s Bastille Day,” and they look at me like I’m nuts. No one around here knows what that is. Thanks to the Parisians, I bloody well know. — Present-day Carrie]

And here I am, riding down the streets of Paris. We’re heading back to the hotel (which is oodles better than the one in London, but not so good of a location) for a while, then back into the city for the festivities. Bastille Day is France’s equivalent to our July 4th. Earlier today we saw Notre Dame. When I get home I’m gonna watch the Hunchback of Notre Dame again cause they drew the church really well. I recognized some of the stained glass windows & such; it was weird. We also went all over Paris w/ this tour guide (*unintelligible* pointing out stuff, but I was dead asleep most of the time. Saw the Arc de Triomphe real quick, & we got out to take pictures of the Tour d Eiffel (Eiffel Tower). Hope the picture came out.

Then we got to walk around a bit. Went to some cafe shop thing, & that was the best cafe au lait I have ever had.

Steven and I also shared a rich chocolately ice cream thing. The food here is better than London, but London is so much easier to walk around in. I could be a Londoner. These French people are a little (ha!) bit ruder.

The Sacre Coeur (bigger)

Inside Notre Dame (bigger)

A bit more Notre Dame (bigger)

Proof I was there (bigger)

Dancing street musicians (bigger)

Metro Map (bigger)