There's a Toddler in the House!

We knew going into our adoption that most likely M would be behind developmentally - physically, emotionally, etc. It's common when your child has lived in an institution. Because of M's blood disorder, we wondered if she would either be left alone a lot or babied a bit. It seems there was probably some of both. At M's adoption, we assessed her at about 18 months developmentally, even though she was 2 1/2 years old. We were taught by our social worker, our agency, and our book reading that M would have to progress through every "normal" developmental stage to finally "catch up" to where she should be.

I'm excited - not really - to share that there is now a TODDLER IN THE HOUSE. :-) Unfortunately, she decided to move in two days before our trip to Florida. Sigh. Most of the time she's still wonderfully sweet and a pleasure to be around, but we've also had some lovely little screaming fits. My personal favorite, a true "rip your hair out as a parent" moment, occurred on our way to FL. M decided she needed to use the restroom just as the plane was landing. Everyone had already stood up and was standing in the aisles. There was no way of getting her to the front of the plane. No way of pushing through. No one had compassion on a just-trained toddler. They cared about their connecting flights. I tried desperately to assure her that we would get to a bathroom soon.

Her preschool teachers use the word "potty" (yuck). She begins shouting and crying, "M Potty! M Potty!" Time moves SLOWLY. We finally get off the plane only to have to wait for the stupid stroller to be brought plane side. Yes, she's still crying only it sounds like we've told this child she must suffer for the rest of her life! We finally get the stroller, strap her in, load on two large carry-on bags (I'm not paying $15/bag!), count each other, and make a mad dash to the nearest family bathroom. We struggle through the door (with all the bags hanging on the stroller arms, of course)....have I mentioned M's still crying, "M Potty!"??? I unstrap her (the stroller goes flying backwards), get her all set to go, and she shakes her head no. Her cry changes to "No Potty!" AHHHHHHHHHHH! The boys shake their heads. I want to pull out my hair.

Welcome to toddler land.

I am actually told that this is a good thing (really?!). Apparently, it shows that she is beginning to trust that we will love her unconditionally and she's wanting to make sure. That seems to be true because this week she has told me that she loves me - unprompted. She's always told us that she loves us if we say it first. But this week, she's initiating. That is, when she's not being 2!

Insurance

As I reordered M's prescription for chelation medicine today I was struck by two feelings: thankfulness and frustration! We are so very thankful to have a great prescription plan! Since our bio boys have seizure disorders, we've always appreciated our insurance coverage, but M's condition reminds us all the more. Without insurance, M's MONTHLY pharmaceutical bill would be $1,400. That's right. That is not her hospital bills, just her chelation medicine. I'm sitting here looking at the tiny tablet she takes daily that is working to keep her alive. It's smaller than a dime!

The frustrating part is how ridiculously the insurance system is set up, of course. For example, today I needed to call in a higher dose for M. I learned that our copay will be twice as much for a pill the same size. I was informed, however, that if we simply order three pills of a smaller dose for each day (equalling the same amount as one higher-dosed pill), our copay will remain the same as before. Does that make ANY sense? So the company has to produce MORE pills and people have to take MORE time to count our MORE pills for the same purpose in the end. Why do people make these rules????? Needless to say, M will now be taking three small pills dissolved each morning instead of one!