My Janelle

This morning Janelle was eating her breakfast. Peach yogurt. She was painting with it instead of eating it. Finally I scooped my vanilla into her mouth, yummy, she ate it! When the vanilla was gone I tried to scoop the peach into her hungry body. She turned her head and pointed to mine. Finally I realized, Janelle does not like peach yogurt.

Janelle cannot talk. She has trouble expressing herself. She knows exactly what she wants but can't tell me. Janelle is almost 2 and a half but she has the speech abilities of a 15 month old. I have had Janelle evaluated 2 times and am hoping that tomorrow her 3 time will be the charm. Speech therapy is very expensive, but in many cases the county will pay. So far they have refused. My entire family and even Janelle's doctor is baffled. Her problems may be quite serious, the doctor is concerned. She is at risk for many behavioral problems. I hope tomorrow will be a new beginning for us all.

Until you have dealt with a child who struggles to speak you will never understand. Janelle is otherwise a very bright young toddler. She uses her own form of sign language to get what she wants but unfortunately and in most situations she just goes without. I try my best and yet I did not know Janelle did not like peach yogurt. If we go out to eat and the menu does not have pictures we have no idea what to order her. She usually gets whatever Jordan is having. In many ways we don't even know our little girl.

This is frustrating for everyone involved. Most of her speech comes out in a barrage of uh's and um's. When she does not know the answer to a question she will simply replies, "mommy daddy" ? There is confusion and longing in her eyes. How awful to have the words stuck inside and have no way of know how to get them out. Some days I get so exhausted. I am constantly trying to figure out what she wants and to decipher her grunts. By 3 in the afternoon I am mentally worn out.

Last year she could clearly say flower. Wow! I was so proud. Flower is no longer a word she can say. She is not stubborn or manipulative, something I was told in the past. My child cannot speak. Speech difficulties are a mystery to doctors. They are agony for parents.

I only want my little girl to be happy, to play with other kids without them getting mad at her because she replies "NO" when that is not the appropriate word. I know that someday, hopefully soon, she will get the help she needs and will soon be able to express herself, but until then each day is a battle.

Until you are faced with a child who is struggling to tell you something you will never understand what a day in my life is like. I see her trying to process her thoughts, and then I see the wall go up. The words don't come. Janelle is sad and so am I.

Janelle is much more then this problem, I am lucky because I know one day she will rise above this struggle and be all she can be. She will light up the world with words and no one will be happier to hear her then me. We will finally know what kind of ice cream she likes, her favorite TV show and whether it will be chicken or burgers for dinner.

Peace, True Self, It All Begins At Home

Did you ever feel like you were living the wrong life. How did I get here and who are these people? This thought is a constant in my mind.

How did my house become an embarrassment?

I am a candidate for one of those clean house shows.

I need a complete overhaul and instead of trying to fix it I can't seem to get out of the clutter, dirt, just plain grossness of it all. When I watch the show Wife Swap I always feel kinda bad because I am the white trash, messy mom, who the other perfect suburban mom is grossed out by. My problem is I don't have the kitchy weird hobby or lifestyle to pull off my home. I am not a Renaissance tattoo artist hippy mama. Just a normal girl with a strange messy house. This weekend I decided to embrace the white trashiness of it all but I am still working on the terms of this agreement with the home that lives in my mind.

I have been caught in a cleaning coma and I am one of the worst victims. I can't clean because I can't move, I literally can't get to the cleaning supplies. No really, I mean getting the garbage out into the garage is a impossibility most days. I can't make it through the laundry room/mudroom/ closet, to get to the garage! I would have to move to many laundry baskets, shoes, toys to get to the door. Talk about a fire hazard!

So I pile the garbage on my kitchen counter and hope a fairy will come before my husband gets home. I am not opposed to cleaning, I actually don't mind it, (lie, lie, lie) but when you are in a war with clutter, a small house and 2 small children the battle may really belong to the Lord because no earthy being could stand up against the dirt in my home. I need a Godly intervention, but I'm pretty sure God cares more about my soul then the presence of clutter.

OK and after writing this next statement I may have no more friends but seriously what is up with the people who say their house is a mess and then when you get there it is perfect? Where are the people whose houses look like mine? I have yet to meet anyone in recent years who has a normal home. Where am I living and how do I find people like myself.

Wait, it is possible that I am the bottom of the barrel? In Clifton Park I most likely am. In recent years I have longed to pick up my clutter and move out of town. We have looked for homes in Colonie and Watervliet but never found anything quite right. I feel like I am a child living amongst grown up's. Such perfection, really, your homes are beautiful, but what's up! Maybe I'm not in the wrong life, just the wrong zip code. Really I have only one friend who can come to my home unannounced or otherwise. Becky you can feel proud or and honored or maybe just grossed out! I don't know but you are always welcome! Becky actually helped me get out of a cleaning coma once and I will forever be grateful!


I hate apologizing for my home, but I really do feel bad inviting other mom's and their precious children over to my pit. I always feel so bad when they inevitably step in dog poop, or when those precious children scoop up a dust bunny and mistake it for a wad of cotton candy.

One thing I have noticed is that people do feel comfortable in my home. I am a pretty good hostess, the food may be served on chipped dishes, or most likely paper plates, but the food is good and I will fill your belly.

OK, so friends, no advice that you have been here, because I can tell when I visit your homes you have never reached these depths of messiness that I call home. Maybe I just don't have the knack for cleaning and organizing that others possess. Maybe my true purpose is to make others feel better about themselves, because when I envisioned my life I always had a maid, I was never THE MAID!

I am not seeking decorating advice or cleaning advice, I'm just trying to find my place, find my real life and find some peace. It all begins at home. You find yourself at home but if you have no peace with your home then where do you go?