{{Jon}} I am so sorry for your loss. Peace and love to you and your family.

Beej, glad the date went well, but not glad you're feeling ookie today.

{{Cindy}} I'm sorry you're having a difficult day.

I'm having a kinda difficult day, myself. I had the most vivid dream last night that my dad died. He's not well, and frankly, if he makes it through this year I'll be surprised, but this was too much. There was one part that was a montage of him laying in bed and I saw him as the healthy, vital man he was before his strokes and then he morphed into what he looks like now and then into what, I imagine, his corpse would look like.

I woke up sobbing and haven't been able to shake it.

I did call him a few minutes ago and he's fine, but still. shivers

Debet, they look dandy!

{{ChiKat}} What an awful dream. I'm sorry. I'm glad you spoke to him and hope the shivers go away soon.

Oh, ChiKat. What a horrible dream. The ways our brains torture us.

Thanks to you, and to Gud, Amy, and everyone for the anti-anxiety hugs.

Cindy, I'm glad the attack passed. Do you know what brought it on? I hope they're getting fewer and farther apart.

I really don't. Julia was whingey this morning, and Ben was worried because he has three tests today, but it must have been close to an hour after they left for school. It was out of the blue. I hadn't eaten though, and woke up really early, so maybe that was just enough of a one-two punch (plus I might have had more coffee than ususal on account of being up early--I am not sure). At least I still recognized it for what it was, right away. I grabbed a yogurt, took to the couch, and ate what I could. My mother came downstairs a little later, and just sat and talked with me. That helped, too.

{{{ChiKat}}} {{{Cindy}}}

{{Cindy}} Gah. Those things suck so much.

Beej, my husband is now my husband at least in part because I was injured (knee injury the day before, actually, but not walk-on-able when he arrived) on our first date and he took care of me. It is indeed a very weird feeling having someone else to care for you when you're not used to it.

Aidan was evaluated by the school district psychologist, 2 special ed teachers, an advocate of some sort, an occupational therapist, speech therapist and vision teacher this morning. They were hugely impressed with his fine motor skills, ability to concentrate, his gentleness, his politeness, and his general loveability. It's kind of nice to go through these things, however much they're stressful beforehand because it gives me new perspective. "He kicks and screams and hits me when he gets frustrated. He throws his plate when he's done with his food. He likes to pinch me." "Oh, sounds like a lively 3 year old." Huh.

They agree that he's developmentally delayed and that he's got vision problems, but they saw no sign of autism and think that his coping mechanisms are brilliant. He can do some things that the average normal kid can't do. It was stressful, but good. I posted about preparing for it in my LJ, and I just have to say that I love you guys. The comfort was much appreciated.

I'm achy today, so I'll probably just x-post that into my LJ, now that I think about it.

Yeah, Deena and Aidan.

Stabby stabby.

Oh, that is WONDERFUL, Deena.

And I quite seriously, give some of the credit for that to your parenting skills. You've been on top of Aidan's problems while applauding and reinforcing his strengths. And you have *never* shown any sign of blaming Aidan for his shortfalls.

I KNEW that boy was brilliant!