Benjamin turned two yesterday. The nerve of that boy.

Our little baby is now a toddler (as DH likes to remind me whenever I call him "baby"), and he's just so incredibly cute and yummy and funny that I can almost overlook how much I miss just rocking him peacefully by the light of the TV. I don't miss that enough to have more kids, because, yikes, but that child is just so BUSY. The closest I get is holding him late at night when he wakes and begs for me. He knows to ask for a hug, and that I won't take him out of his room. He just wants the music back on and his kitty and his pacifier and his mommy for a hug. I rock him in my arms and sing a little with Curious George for maybe one song. Then he can go back to sleep. It's darling, though not great for my sleep.

On the oh-my-am-I-overwhelmed front, we seem to have gotten really lucky on the nanny situation. I hired the second person I interviewed -- a nursing student I found on Sittercity who's in the area until February on break from school. She's everything I was skeptical of having on hand -- cute, blond, young, fit and perky. But the girl likes to CLEAN!!!!! She was here on Friday, had both Benjamin and Jacob (who was home sick), and still managed to organize all of their toys and craft stuff as well as scrub the kitchen.

And then she told me that (a) Jacob was the easiest kid she's ever taken care of, and (b) Benjamin has the cutest nose she's ever seen. How could I not love that? I did ask her if she really felt she needed college and wasn't it a little overrated? But I think she's going back to school anyway.

Meanwhile, Alberta is convalescing at a hospital she says is even worse than Cook County, which is a terrifying prospect. I spoke with her this morning and she sounds much better, which is cool. The hip replacement worked out really well for her -- she's already been up on crutches and isn't in pain from it -- but the opposite knee is giving her trouble so they think she injured it in the original fall. So she still doesn't know when she'll be out of the hospital; and even when they do release her, it will likely be to an inpatient rehab center.  

Back at the ranch, DH and I are meeting with Danny's Intervention Team at school tomorrow afternoon. I'm totally loaded for bear. The first meeting was us with eight other people -- three teachers, a social worker, a psychologist, a speech therapist, the district special ed coordinator, the principal, and the janitor (just kidding on that last). The principal begged off to have another meeting, and the district OT never showed up.

By now, Danny should not only have had a full evaluation done by the OT, but should be on an in-school treatment plan... and to date, she's barely even met my kid. Not only are they out of compliance with state law, but they've pissed. Me. Off. Our private OT finally got a call from the DOT, and said the DOT didn't have Danny's file with her and knew nothing about him. The POT was distinctly unimpressed.

I wrote a letter to the principal and outlined my dismay; basically said that all of these great people at the school are working so hard to help my kid, but the primary need for special services has just been ignored. I told him I was so grateful for their care but perhaps their jobs would be easier if the fucking OT actually showed up to work with my son. Oh, and could she do us a favor and show the fuck up for our meeting tomorrow?

The principal wrote me back pretty quickly and gave me the "I'm on it" nod, so we'll see what happens tomorrow. Our private OT told me that I basically have to let go of my desire to be Nice Mom, and give in to my Bitch Mom persona. I hate to do it... but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.