Despite my earlier pessimistic prediction, the evaluation process to find out of Clara qualifies for EI services has continued. It seems to be a windy road with many hoops and hurdles and even the destination is foggy. Today a "service coordinator" is coming out to fill out twenty-five minutes worth of paperwork. After which she will refer us to another evaluator who will come out to the house and run a bunch of tests out our girl. If she qualifies after that evaluation she will be referred to a physical therapist.
I refuse to get worked up about this process. She'll either qualify or she won't.
And besides, LOOK!
Clara has been taking steps independently for over six months now. One here. Eight there. But sometimes with weeks in between and no real progress. Her steps have been stiff and awkward and the neurologist even put on her prescription for therapy that she observed a "gait abnormality"
But in the last week, she has walked some every day. With increasing ease and excitement. And as you can see has made great strides in her gait. (Groan!) We are continuing down the road to EI because it has taken us so long just to get the referral, but I am very encouraged at the progress I am seeing.
What you cannot see in this video is the absolute disaster my children made of the room around them while I was attempting to write an introspective post on my blog last night. This weekend I spent some time rummaging through the archives of my blog and recalling, wistfully, the obsession that blogging was for me last year; When I wrote compulsively for the sake of writing, and not simply to record the minutiae of life in the Chaotic household.
Failing to find a balance for my new obsession I have instead gradually diluted it into a watered down version of what I wanted it to be. While I still pop on each week to post updates and pictures and the occasional anecdote it's been a long time since I have gone to bed with words and phrases swimming through my head. I miss it. The challenge of trying to become a better writer, of self-analysis and story-telling and attempting to recreate moments instead of just record them.
And yet, here I am again, with a quick Clara-update, because it's all I can manage except at naptime and bedtime and those hours are already allocated 3 times over. And I find the less I write the harder it is to return to it. But I know I will return, eventually. Or maybe for now just occasionally. Until my life takes another turn and time alone is not such a coveted rarity.
Oh and look what else I did this weekend:
My sweet friend Nikki took pity on my long scraggly locks and my 2 inch roots and gave me a free cut and color. Free - people! Seven inches and 3.5 hours later I am forever in her debt.