Alone again, naturally.

B.’s travel never ends. He left today for a month, the longest he will have been gone since the babies were born.

It sounds worse than it is. At this age the babies are pretty manageable by myself. The separation is nothing compared to what thousands of other military families must endure. That’s what I’m telling myself, anyway.

The time will go fast. It always does.

In other news, the oaf that inquired as to my due date on New Years? I saw him this weekend and he claims he has no memory whatsoever of our exchange. He was suitably horrified when I refreshed his memory, though. I’m not 100% sure I buy the blackout story, but if it is indeed true then a lack of tact is the least of his problems.

The eighteen month checkup went well. Little Boy and Little Girl did shockingly well with their shots, thankfully. The pediatrician agreed that we could move ahead with evaluating the twins’ speech (or lack thereof) if we wanted to, so the referral/paperwork/headache process has begun. I have started giving Little Boy and Little Girl an omega 3 supplement. There’s plenty of stories online about how such supplementation can enhance speech development. “Little Suzie had no words, but after only three days on Such-and-Such-Supplement she’s speaking in complete sentences!” Likely bunk, but also not likely to do them much harm, so we’re giving it a shot.

All quiet on the Bad Egg front.

Life marches on here at the House of Bad Egg. Little Boy and Little Girl are now eighteen months old. And nope, still not speaking. Little Girl says “dadda” with regularity and intent and “mamma” occasionally. When she sees a dog, she makes a bark that sounds like she’s clearing her throat. Little Boy will scream “dadda” if everyone else is, but doesn’t use the word with consistency.

They both know a few signs but don’t use them with any regularity or even always correctly. I think their receptive language is more or less okay, it’s the expressive element that’s sub-par.

Needless to say, their lack of speech will be the number one topic of concern at tomorrow’s pediatrician appointment. B. and I are going to push the start the process to get them evaluated. My gut? All over the place. One minute, oh, they’re just late talkers; the next, it’s autism, or apraxia, or hearing loss, or, or, or...

I had hoped that having them in preschool two mornings a week would jump start their speech. Nope. It has, however, jump started their ability to get sick, as predicted.

My infertility related idea from the last post? On the back burner, most likely permanently. I had come up with a slogan & tentative design for t-shirts that would identify the wearer as an infertility survivor. I thought I was being unique and clever, turns out I was not. After searching the internet, I found that others had beat me to the punch. I must say, though, that the design I was working towards was better than the others I’m seeing, but that still doesn’t give me the right to step on others’ toes. Oh well. I shouldn’t have sat on the idea for so long.