Development In Slow Motion

As parents, we celebrate all of our children's accomplishments.  In the beginning, with Jack, I was completely clueless.  He was such an early talker, and as a first time mom, I was oblivious to the fact that other kids weren't developing at the same rate- until I took him to playgroup, where he would want nothing to do with the other kids, but would talk "at" all of the adults in full sentences, at 18 months.  And the other moms would say things like, "excuse me while I go kill myself".  My little boy genius.  It took awhile for me to realize that he did not truly understand most of what he was saying.  To this day, scripting is a huge part of our lives, and people who don't know him too well say how brilliant he is.  Which he is.  But that's not why he is spouting those facts out rapid fire every day.  That is his comfort, his script.

Watching him learn how to read this past couple of years has been absolutely amazing.  I now have a different point of reference, Nate.  And watching Jack learn how to read is in many ways like watching him learn how to talk all over again.  I just have a whole different level of appreciation for my kids' accomplishments these days.

Nate's development, like many kids with moderate to severe autism, has been such a roller coaster.  Two steps forward, five steps back, another five steps back, four steps forward, and then freeze frame, repeat.  My level of fear far outweighs my need for hope at this point- to put it another way I am absolutely AFRAID to hope.

At some point though, you have to make a decision.  Are you going to live your life feeling this anxiety, or are you going to do everything you can to put that fear aside and allow yourself to enjoy these positive moments, however fleeting they may be?  Can you allow yourself to enjoy your child saying new words when you know they may never say them again, or they may disappear tomorrow?  Well, it's really really tough.  But you have to find a way.  Right?

I am trying really hard to do this.  When I first started this blog, I would jump on when Nate would start saying new words, and say things like "I hope this is it!"  Maybe you haven't noticed, but I have stopped doing this.  It's too scary.  It's never "it".  I don't think there is any such thing anymore.  I don't believe anyone who tells me Nate's speech is just going to "take off."  John and I sit and talk at night about how weird it would be to have Nate walk up to us and just start talking.  It would be freaky at this point (don't get me wrong, I would get over it)

He IS developing though.  He really is.  It's just in slow motion.  The accomplishments are things that with Jack, I never even noticed.  But they are there, and now I have to admit it.  It is absolutely fascinating.  For instance, Nate is obsessed with peek a boo right now.  And it's not the object permanence thing, it is the interaction piece.  He LOVES to see your reaction, to be surprised, to do it again and again.  This may seem like a small thing, but it is not.  It is Nate realizing his actions can have an impact, that he can affect his environment.  Yesterday he hid behind my bedroom door when it was time to go downstairs in the morning.  I found him laughing hysterically, hiding.  He knew he was going to surprise me and was anticipating it.  Now, he is super interested in doors- he stood in his bedroom this morning opening the door, looking behind it, closing it, getting down on his knees and looking under it.  It's like it's the first time he has ever realized the impact of a door, even though he has been opening and closing them for a long time.

Watching Nate finally notice his environment like this-  it's just crazy.  When Nate hits a milestone like this, my joy almost happens in reverse.  It's like- wait, oh my gosh, I never even realized he wasn't noticing this before.  I can't believe he wasn't noticing this before!  But wait, he is noticing it now!  And for now, that is enough.  

The Measles Outbreak: A Reality Check

     

Disclosure:  I have two children with autism, they are both fully vaccinated.  I believe that vaccination is hugely important and my children WILL be vaccinated.  I don’t want them to die of a disease that could be prevented.

Guess who is not fully vaccinated in this family?  Or at least is more likely to be an issue.   ME.  And my husband.  In your family, it’s likely YOU.  Why? 

http://www.usnews.com/news/blogs/data-mine/2015/01/26/whats-really-behind-the-measles-outbreak

Two doses of vaccine were not recommended until 1989 – meaning that anyone over the age of 26 today may not have received a booster. Orenstein says the CDC for this reason advises adults traveling outside the U.S. get an MMR vaccine.

According to an article in the Journal of Infectious Diseases, people who were not in the targeted age group went unvaccinated, leaving a gap of people in older age groups who were not protected. "The major problem with measles in highly vaccinated populations occurred among middle school, junior high school, senior high school, and college students," the article read. "The quickest way to eliminate that problem would be a mass revaccination campaign of all such students. This was considered too expensive and logistically difficult to carry out."

Orenstein says the reason public health measures focus on vaccinating younger children is because they suffer the most severe consequences of measles. This approach, however, means some adults could have been missed during that time period. "What I wonder about are these people who fell through the cracks," Orenstein says

Here, directly from the CDC website:

http://www.cdc.gov/vaccines/schedules/downloads/adult/adult-schedule.pdf

Measles, mumps, rubella (MMR) vaccination

• Adults born before 1957 are generally considered immune to measles and

mumps. All adults born in 1957 or later should have documentation of 1 or

more doses of MMR vaccine unless they have a medical contraindication

to the vaccine or laboratory evidence of immunity to each of the three

diseases. Documentation of provider-diagnosed disease is not considered

acceptable evidence of immunity for measles, mumps, or rubella.

Measles component:

• A routine second dose of MMR vaccine, administered a minimum of 28

days after the first dose, is recommended for adults who:

—— are students in postsecondary educational institutions;

—— work in a health care facility; or

—— plan to travel internationally.

• Persons who received inactivated (killed) measles vaccine or measles

vaccine of unknown type during 1963–1967 should be revaccinated with

2 doses of MMR vaccine.

Mumps component:

• A routine second dose of MMR vaccine, administered a minimum of 28

days after the first dose, is recommended for adults who:

—— are students in a postsecondary educational institution;

—— work in a health care facility; or

—— plan to travel internationally.

• Persons vaccinated before 1979 with either killed mumps vaccine

or mumps vaccine of unknown type who are at high risk for mumps

infection (e.g., persons who are working in a health care facility) should

be considered for revaccination with 2 doses of MMR vaccine.

Rubella component:

• For women of childbearing age, regardless of birth year, rubella immunity

should be determined. If there is no evidence of immunity, women who

are not pregnant should be vaccinated. Pregnant women who do not have

evidence of immunity should receive MMR vaccine upon completion or

termination of pregnancy and before discharge from the health care facility.

Health care personnel born before 1957:

• For unvaccinated health care personnel born before 1957 who lack

laboratory evidence of measles, mumps, and/or rubella immunity or

laboratory confirmation of disease, health care facilities should consider

vaccinating personnel with 2 doses of MMR vaccine at the appropriate

interval for measles and mumps or 1 dose of MMR vaccine for rubella.

Now, tell me, have you all followed this guideline?  I am a nurse right?  I worked in a hospital for the first 8 years of my career.   I had to get my hepatits B vaccination as part of being employed; I had to get TB tests annually.  I was expected to get the flu shot.  No one checked my titers for measles, mumps or rubella.  And for people in my age range, we should be checked.

“Anti-vaxers” are to blame right?  Did it occur to you that you may be a big part of the problem too??  I think there needs to be more education about this issue. 

On “anti-vaxer” parents:  I disagree with not vaccinating your child.  I do.  I have done a ton of research as a mom, and even more as the mom of two boys with autism.  The benefits do outweigh the risks.  If you are worried about your child having a reaction, there are measures you can take to help “shore up” your child’s immune system, to protect them the best you can.  And you can spread out vaccines (although not the MMR which is no longer available in separate doses-  http://www.askdrsears.com/topics/health-concerns/vaccines/separate-measles-mumps-rubella-vaccines-longer-available-can-parents) .  Which I believe is fine- as long as you take the time to follow through.  I have a good amount of medical knowledge, both professionally and of course personally.  Even with all of that information, my education, and my experiences, I have found myself questioning the norm.  And I have had numerous medical professionals tell me the norm is wrong, I have had professionals tell me that my son is vaccine injured.  Literally told me that.  Once again, I am well educated and have a very hard time swallowing all of the conflicting information.  Imagine how those who have less information and are hearing these statements must feel. 

What pisses me off is the holier than thou people out there that slam anyone who questions the status quo.  And I mean- Pisses.  Me.  Off.  Most of these parents do not have children with autism or other health issues, in my experience. It’s easy to judge when your toddler is running around you saying WORDS and going to regular preschool.  When you haven’t had a professional tell you that vaccines have affected your child negatively.   I have come so close to defriending some people who are otherwise dear to me lately because I can’t stand the snide posts that are constantly in my news stream.  I have chosen to block their posts instead, we all have our opinions, and I can love you and not agree with you.

I have kept my mouth shut to this point because I feel like I will be attacked no matter what I say.  But screw it, I started a blog to express myself, and this is how I feel.  Before you go attacking parents for not vaccinating, look at the facts above, we, as parents, are being infected MORE than our children.  We are more responsible for this outbreak spreading than any unvaccinated children.  Get your titers checked people.  We are just as much to blame for this situation, if not more so.  So yes, kids need to be vaccinated, but so do we.  It’s much easier to blame the problem on others, to single out one group, especially when you disagree with them to begin with.  If only it were that simple.  

Autism Parenting and Chronic Stress

Lately I find myself on the verge of my own meltdown fairly regularly.  I have so much on my mind that I have very little capacity to handle the unexpected, and unfortunately, the unexpected happens pretty much daily.  I am chronically tired and constantly planning my day in 5 minute increments, it gets old. 

I think this is the case for most moms out there; we all have to cope with constant change.  That being said, I still believe that my life as a mom is quite intense.  My job is intense, and never lets up, not for inclement weather, or holidays, or illness, nothing.  Working from home- people always tell me how lucky I am- and it’s true in many circumstances.  However, the past 6 weeks have been HELL.  The boys’ childcare closed for a week and a half over Christmas, then has been closing for any and all inclement weather.  The end result has been me, at home, with two children with autism who literally do not understand the idea of “being quiet” (yes, I know moms are going to say no child does, but I PROMISE you, this is different), a 30 phone call daily requirement with all calls being recorded, and constant fear that I will lose my job if Jack chooses to come in and start talking about his latest obsession during one of the calls that will be listened to.  It has involved me locking myself in my office at various intervals to make important calls with two small children pounding on the door and crying.  It has involved me running all over the house with my computer, hiding, just to get something done.  It has involved me allowing my kids to constantly watch TV when I am totally against it.  And while I have gotten some offers from people to sit for the boys during the bad weather (which it has to be said, has never been bad enough for anything to actually be closed), I am already paying for the closed childcare and cannot afford to pay for more.  It’s an awful situation, and I think that people forget on both ends just what we as parents are trying to juggle.   I find myself feeling like a bad parent (see above TV statement) and a poor employee (seriously, try to get the 30 calls in each day, with kids at home, school tours daily like last week and an IEP meeting to boot- try).  My house is a mess, laundry is everywhere, there are potato chip crumbs all over the floor from me shoving food at the boys to try and keep them quiet while I am on the phone.  My parents live just far enough away that when the weather is even a little bit rough I feel bad asking them to come help, John’s new job takes him an hour away each day, and he has no vacation or sick time because it is a new job- so I am on my own.

End result- I am slowly losing my mind.   I also decided to do a 60 day “insanity” diet and exercise challenge starting in January. HA!!!!!  After 2 weeks, and only 2 pounds lost, I found myself so lightheaded while visiting my sister and trying on bridesmaids dresses that I ended up outside a Panera tossing my cookies.  Yep, good times. 

This constant “fight or flight” crap is mentally exhausting.  If I could get one day of “just work”, well, honestly I don’t know what I would do.  I see some dancing though, definitely dancing. 

The cherry on top is the whole autism parent-advocate role.  This spring is extremely intense, trying to decide Nate’s next step- he is going through a series of assessments over the next 60 days, I am touring his different school options, and then comes the big meeting with the current school staff, the “transition team” , his outside teachers and therapists, and mom and dad in March.  We also became aware recently that our health insurance with John’s new job covers ABA, which is amazingly, fantastically wonderful.  However, it has involved a ton of paperwork on my end, not to mention the assessments that are coming up connected with that, etc.   I will say that I am ecstatic about finally having the opportunity to provide my son with ABA- it’s one of the few “proven” therapies for autism and it has killed me that I haven’t been able to do this for him (it’s you know, thousands of dollars each month).  This development is a huge mark in the win column for our family.  Nate also recently started some new medical treatment, which involves weekly trips to the pediatrician.  Oh, and grant applications for state funding were also due this month. 

What chronic stress?  I’m all good over here.  But if you hear a primal scream emanating from our general vicinity, well, it could possibly be me.

Kindergarten Planning In Our Alternate Universe

It doesn’t matter how long you have been preparing yourself, how many times you have told yourself that it will be fine and you are prepared for what is to come, that you are doing what is best for your child.  When the time comes to confront your child’s challenges yet again, it HURTS. 

I remember Jack’s kindergarten transition, how nervous I was, how concerned I was that he didn’t have the services he needed (he didn’t) and that he would struggle a lot because of it (he did).  And now I know that relatively speaking, it was child’s play.  That experience was merely the training wheels for now.  The training wheels are off, and I find myself having a very difficult time coping.

Bottom line- I want my son to go to kindergarten.  I know that he can’t go- not to traditional kindergarten.  But right now, I am mourning this loss.  Even though I thought I had prepared myself.  I am angry, and I am devastated.  I am disappointed in myself, and all of the interventions and therapies that we have employed to help Nate.  We couldn’t get him there.  And God knows we tried.  I feel like a buzzer is going off “buzz!  Time’s up!”  Early intervention time is over, time to move on.  You had your chance and you blew it.

That’s not “what it is”, but right now, that’s what it feels like.   It’s hard to accept that these years of early intervention, these years that I was assured would be effective and I “wouldn’t even recognize my child in a year”, were unable to get him where he needed to be.  My kid is obviously not the only one, and we are super lucky to have the options that we do, but honestly, that doesn’t make it hurt any less.  I hurt for him, for what he doesn’t even know he’s missing.  I hurt for my husband, who would love to be able to coach a team for him and likely never will.  And yes, I feel sorry for myself.

I avoid moms who have kids Nate’s age, even friends who had babies at the same time I had Nate, especially when their kids are with them.  It is so incredibly painful- even if their child just interrupts a conversation “mommy, can I have this..?”  I can’t take it anymore.  It’s so incredibly, beautifully normal.  These kiddos are going to go to kindergarten and my beautiful perfect son will not.  They will be getting on a bus of their peers for the first time; my son has been taking a bus every single day since he was 3.  I ran into someone in the grocery store last week, her older son was in Jack’s preschool class when he was 3.  She has a daughter Nate’s age.  She was talking about the preschool, where her son continued to go, that her daughter is about to “graduate” from.  This weird feeling came over me.   It’s like I forgot it existed.  I forgot that world kept going when we had to bow out.  Nate never got to go to preschool.  I guess those other kids did- why this didn’t occur to me is beyond my comprehension.  We are living in an alternate universe over here.

We will be fine, I will be fine.  We will find a good program for Nate.  None of those things are in question at this point.  I just need to go through the process of letting this happen.  Of reacquainting myself yet again with what will be our “normal”.  I know that I would never want to subject Nate to typical kindergarten; it would be absolute torture for him at this point in his life.  But letting go of that dream, it’s just really hard.  No one will ever know what it’s like until they experience it.  See, there I go, trying to try to wrap a nice little bow around this post and end on a positive note.  You know what?  I’m not gonna do it.  THIS SUCKS.  

We Made It Through Christmas

We survived Christmas.  At home.  That is basically the best I can say.  This is the first time we have had Christmas at home in 3 yrs, since the year the boys were diagnosed.   We have been leaving and going to the Outer Banks- it was a good way to just change the setting, reduce stimulation for all of us, and escape the bad memories.  We decided we might be ready to stay home this year, see our family, try to create new memories.

Here is a flashback to two years ago:

Tonight John and I went to our marriage counseling session.  It's a very touchy time of year for many people, and we are certainly no exception.  As much as I am looking forward to Christmas, my mind is still somewhat stuck on where we were as a family last year- there is only one word that fits- reeling.  There was not one aspect of life that was stable.  We were still working on accepting the boys' diagnoses.  We were changing diets, initiating many new therapies.  Experiencing major financial strain related to the boys' medical needs.  And of course going through marital strife.  The thought of even celebrating Christmas last year was overwhelming- I know I just wanted to crawl under a rock and stay there.  

Alas, last year John and I were not nearly as wise as we are now.  We tried to make a nice holiday "for the kids".  I have come to realize that that phrase means nothing if mom and dad can't survive the experience.  The boys can not enjoy their holiday without us- they need us even more than most kids need their parents.  But rewind- we hadn't realized this yet.  And so we tried to keep up appearances, aka do everything the way we always had, including a long-winded dinner at a restaurant on Christmas Eve, church, and then hosting a big Christmas dinner at our house the next day.  Bad, bad, bad.  I preordered the boys' dinner at the restaurant to ensure it was gluten and dairy free, and the food was brought out basically right away when we got there- noone in the family ordered for an hour after that.  Result- meltdowns from both kids, picture Jack falling out of his chair multiple times, hands over ears, crying/yelling about all of the noises, Nathan banging his head on the table.  I carried him into the next room and put him down thinking maybe if he could walk around....he proceeded to lie down on the floor and bang his head some more.  We tried, we really really did.  The pressure was just too overwhelming- we left before dinner was served, we skipped church.  We went home and we both cried.  For our family, for the fact that we could no longer have a dinner out, for the feeling that no one in our families really understood what we were going through.

You would think that after this we would cry uncle for Christmas day.  But no, we pushed on.  We had a lovely Christmas morning, even had fun doing some of the cooking.  I will not even attempt to describe the rest of the day, so I will just say that it was one of the worst days I can remember- and a definite low point for our family.  I didn't feel like we could carry on at all after that point.

Yet here we are- stronger than ever.  We definitely learn something from every experience in our lives.  Well here is what I took from this- sometimes pretending is not ok, it's not the right thing to do.  There is no way to "protect" our extended families from our "new normal".  We can't do the same things anymore.  And to say that we were doing it for the kids is crap.  They certainly weren't enjoying the restaurant, they didn't give a hoot about a standing rib roast.  They would be happy with grilled cheese and chips.  Our marriage counselor described last year so concisely this evening.  He said that last year, we were like the violin players on the Titanic, who continued to play as the ship sank to give the other passengers a sense of comfort/normalcy.  It was torture for us, and did it help our families?  Not at all.  I am sure the violin playing did nothing for the passengers as they fell to their deaths either.  Did those violin players die?  Umm, pretty sure, yes.  So it didn't really work out for them either.  Sometimes, you just have to jump ship.  Circumstances change- accepting this is often the hardest thing to do.  

Accept it we have.  We are shaking things up this year big time.  We are having a Christmas that our family will enjoy- most importantly, one that will be good for the kids.  We are focusing on the progress and growth in our family- and we are acknowledging that what was good for us a few years ago is no longer ok.  We are being "us". 

Long story short, we weren’t ready to stay home.  Or at least, my husband and I weren’t.  It’s amazing how being in a setting where trauma has occurred can affect you.  Nothing bad happened, but I had extreme anxiety and depression throughout December.  It was almost immobilizing. 

I guess the positive is that nothing happened.  We made it through the day with no adverse events.  Other than the typical autism meltdowns, which would have happened no matter where we were.  I was in tears for quite a bit of the morning and just very shaky, went upstairs to try to calm down, and John followed me up the stairs and handed me a mimosa.  I am NOT a drinker.  But there are certain times in life--- well, let’s just say it helped.  It made the day more tolerable.   And I love him for knowing what I needed at that moment. 

We cooked a low key dinner, both sets of grandparents visited briefly, we played with new toys, and generally just spent quality time together.  I am not ready to entertain again- I am not sure I ever will be.  And I am not sure that we will try to stay home again next year.  I had no idea that I/we would feel this badly.  BUT we made it.  The boys had a good day- we had a delicious meal, and I know that all the grandparents were very happy to see the kids on Christmas day.  We still kept boundaries intact to protect our little bubble, but we didn’t have to shut everyone out to do it.  I guess we call that progress. 

Overload!

Hi my name is Jenny, and it's been over a month since my last blog (cue:  "hi Jenny")  I have no idea how to get you all caught up especially because the reason I am so very far behind is that we have been so super busy.  So, I am going to use some pictures and videos to do the job for me.  Here are the highlights:
Thanksgiving- all the cousins on my side of the family together at my parent's house, Baby Cole (my amazing godson) had his first Thanksgiving

Aunt Sarah got to meet baby Cole and none of us ever saw him again lol

Jack and cousin Graeme had a blast playing!

Then this happened:  our 10 yr anniversary hip hip hooray

along with these beautiful flowers from my awesome hubby

This, however, did not happen, because Nathan got his first fever in nearly a year the day before we were supposed to leave:

http://innatwhiteoak.com/index.php

But it WILL happen, oh it will!  Our sanity depends on it!

Then this did happen, Nate's 5th birthday

baby Nate

we love Mickey this year!

We all looked at the same time!

And by far, most importantly, this happened!!!!

Today this happened- Nate's school holiday party

He did the motions with the rest of the class during a book his teacher read.  His mommy cried like a baby while the aide surreptitiously forked over the tissues.  Then he stole Chick Fil A nuggets with gluten in them from the food tray after mommy spent approximately $25 buying gluten free cupcakes for the class (since parents are no longer allowed to bake).  The end!

Why Moms Cry At IEP Meetings

I am going to try to approach this as delicately as I can.  Whatever never mind.  So today was Nate’s IEP meeting.  You know, the one before the BIG one in March (kindergarten placement)  Tensions are high- well for me anyway.  I cried at least 3 times during today’s meeting.  I cried in the parking lot before and after.  I cried this afternoon.  And once again, nothing has changed- I mean he’s continuing to very slowly progress.  He’s showing some “positive signs” of progress.  Blah, blah, blah.   We are moving “away from academics”, to the more practical, social and communication skills- which is what he needs, but it’s sad, and it’s hard.  His goals these days sound very similar to his goals when he was 2- he does a better job of actually achieving them, but it’s still just tough to swallow.   I was speaking with his teacher, who I adore, at the entrance of the school after the meeting for a while and started crying AGAIN.  And she asked “why the tears? He is doing great!”  But I just couldn’t get on board today.  So I just said, I just love him so much, and I’m scared.  She said she loves him too.  And I know that she does.  But in that moment I just wanted to scream, you don’t understand!

It’s much easier to view the little progresses on a day to day basis, and focus on those and not the long term picture when you go home at night.  There, I said it.  We are surrounded by lots of supportive people, who try to empathize with our situation.  But they can’t- not truly.  Because they get to go home.  If someone asks, who is responsible for this child, the answer is me (and my hubby).  At the end of the day, if Nate can’t communicate effectively or function independently, it is my responsibility.  Both John and I have already been mentally preparing ourselves to be lifetime caregivers, to have a trust set up, to have extremely detailed plans in case we both pass away.  Here’s a story to make you cry- one day I was talking to my younger sister about this- she has a new baby, he’s 4 months old.  She said to me “I want them”.  I didn’t ask, didn’t broach the subject, she asked for them.  OK, sorry, that just popped into my head and makes me sob every stinking time I think about it.  What an amazing woman.

Anyway, so while I work my very hardest to focus on the little things- like Nate’s trick or treating success last week, or the fact that he is showing some interest in some toys FINALLY, there are days, like IEP day, when I just can’t do it.  On those days, I find myself thinking about 5 years from now, 10 years from now, and even further into the future.  And I can’t revel in the little things.  Well, I take that back, I can, for a moment, but my focus doesn’t stay there.  I think about the IEP meetings of the past, and the ones to come, the positive changes, and the areas where there is a real lack of progress.  And it scares the crap out of me every single time. 

Add in another IEP, another set of interventions, another set of special educators just casually emailing or sending new suggestions, apps, tools, progress reports, etc, etc, etc, and some days--- well it just flat out sucks.  Today is a sucky day for me emotionally.  And we haven’t even done Jack’s math homework yet J. 

Do I have some words of wisdom to wrap up my whiny day?  Well kind of.  Grab your other autism families, grab them and hold on- you need them, and they need you.  Appreciate all the love that the family members, teachers and therapists have for your kids, even if it is slightly jaded by the fact that they only deal with behaviors for short periods of time and then they move on with their lives.  You need them to love your kids, you need them to be able to go home at night and recharge- because then they will continue to fight alongside you for your kiddos.  The trick--- and it is a trick- is to recognize that you will never get to do this yourself.   But that just like them, you too need to find opportunities for respite (although you clearly won’t get them as frequently haha).  This is something my husband and I are working on- dating again, even if it’s dinner in an hour after an appointment, or an autism conference, or finally, finally going away for fun for the first time since we became parents for our 10 year anniversary.   The burn out rate is high among special educators and therapists.  What does that say for OUR burn out rate??  It says, we damned well better take every single break we can get- that’s what it says.  It's not being selfish, it's refueling.  So we can come back swinging. 

But for tonight- we’re skipping baths, and I am writing Jack’s math answers instead of making him practice his fine motor skills.  And somewhere tomorrow, his teacher will see this and maybe think that I was being lazy.  Nope, not lazy- just prioritizing my sanity today, that’s all.