Friday, October 24, 2014

"I'm sorry."

Sometimes, a story just needs told.

The first day that we had Ivan in our physical custody was crazy and emotional and draining for everyone involved. We had a long ride in the car, a changing of clothes in a public bathroom because I misjudged the absorbency of Bulgarian diapers, a very public very dramatic very scary meltdown of truly epic proportions, a scrambled mess of dinner, a screaming shower, and hours of screaming, rocking and thrashing at bedtime.

It was a magical, awesome, horrific day.

That night, amid the hours of screaming, rocking, and thrashing, I held Ivan. I held him facing me, chest pressed to mine, and wrapped my arms around him and rocked with him and cried with him. We were all exhausted. We were all emotional and, to be brutally honest, we were all scared.

I remember talking to him. Mostly, it was just me saying anything to try and comfort him. I used the three Bulgarian words I knew and mixed them with every English word I know trying to calm us both. I can't remember anything I said that night except one thought:

I'm sorry. 
I'm sorry it took us so long to come and get you and I'm sorry we needed to come at all.

Even now, months later, I can't think of a better way to sum up how I feel about Ivan's time spent as an orphan. 
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry he spent nearly 5 years as an orphan in an orphanage. I'm sorry he was 3 before we found him. I'm sorry he was almost 5 before we could get him home. I hate it that we were so slow getting to him.
And I'm sorry we even needed to come. I'm sorry he was left to be raised at the orphanage. I'm sorry the doctor's misdiagnosed him. That may have tipped the decision to abandon him. It definitely influenced his treatment in the orphanage.  I'm sorry his birth family couldn't raise him in his own culture and I'll never know why they made that choice.

All those things that are completely out of my control. 

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

A Field Trip to a Farm

Eight months home. Two months in school.
Ivan's school had a field trip today to a local farm. The farm is set up to be a field trip destination for school groups so everything about it is perfectly catered to children. The grounds are clean and mostly flat and well manicured. The play equipment is sensory heaven. And it's all outside, there are animals on the premises, and it somehow doesn't smell like poop.
I wanted to attend just to have the experience of playing at the farm with Ivan for his first trip outside the school grounds. I wanted to see him with his school friends and teachers and aides. I wanted to watch him with the people he knows that I don't know. And honestly, I'm just greedy like that and wanted to be able to watch him enjoy the event. I like seeing my kid smile, what can I say?

Since Ivan's been home, I've been fairly strict about providing for his needs myself. I make sure I give him food. I make sure I hug him and love on him when he's needing it. I make sure I'm helping him up the steps or down the ladder or putting his shoes on. It's me. I do it. So when Ivan started school, I had to let go of an awful lot of control over where his needs were being met, and how, and by whom. But it was a removed lack of control. He was away from home, I obviously couldn't meet his needs, the teachers and aides could and let me tell you- out of sight; out of mind.

But today at the event, I was able to watch Ivan interact with his peer group. His honest peer group. Children he attends school with and feels comfortable with and who move at his pace.

I watched him jump amid a crowd of children, laughing, reaching out and touching them as they hopped past him just because he was so happy he wanted to share the moment even for just a second through physical contact. I watched a little boy bounce near him and when Ivan sat down, the boy sat beside him, and IVAN LOOKED OVER AT HIM AND MADE EYE CONTACT and then the boy reached out and touched Ivan's leg and Ivan STAYED STILL AND LET HIM.

It was precious and such a tiny moment but monumental at the same time.

I watched as one of the aides helped him up onto the bouncy thing (it was a bounce pillow?). She held him at first, climbing to the peak height of it, then bounced with him in her arms. He laughed with his entire body. When he laughs, it's joyful:  his knees pull up to his chest, his elbows tuck down to his hips and his back twists into violent S's as laughter erupts from his every pore.

She set him onto his feet and held his hands, bouncing with him, and he laughed.  He caught the perfect bounce off another person just once, tossing himself nearly his entire height into the air and I gasped as the aide with him doubled over in laughter. "You were flying!" she said and he started to fall to his bottom and bounce back to his feet.

Ivan will take off running, just to feel himself run. Just because he can. Just because he's got legs. He doesn't care where he's going or who is with him or how loudly I'm yelling his name, once he's going, he's gone.
I just let him run today. The place was packed with students from at least 3 different schools but there were open fields and it was all fenced in and the sun was shining and the breeze was blowing and I would stroll along behind him as he shot in whatever direction took his fancy. He wound up about 50 yards ahead of me at one point and I wasn't even concerned.

He went down this slide that was like 30 yards long. He had to climb three flights of stairs to get to the top. Once up there, I asked him, "Are you sure you want to slide down this?" and he plopped himself down and tossed his feet into the slide. I asked one of the teens in line with us if she minded sliding down with him ( the slide was a tunnel and I don't do enclosed spaces) so he slid and came out laughing, full bodied, twisty laughs and it was great.

I watched another aide put his shoes on after he was done jumping, once. I watched a teen help him onto the tire swing with a few other kids and gently push them.

I did an awful lot of standing back and watching.

And it was nice.

This evening, I was telling a friend about the trip and I told her:

I felt safe.

And it was something I hadn't realized until the moment I said it aloud. But I had. I had felt safe watching Ivan interact with his peers, teachers, and aides. I had felt safe letting other people do things for him that just two months ago I would have demanded of myself to do myself.

It sounds so small but I've been wiping away tears since it hit me.

I had gotten so used to constantly crisis parenting, always being afraid, setting such high expectations of myself that I'd forgotten that it isn't normal to feel that way or to live that way.

It's normal to feel safe.
It's normal to feel safe within your relationship with your child.
It's normal to feel safe watching your child interact with trusted adults.
It's normal to feel safe while letting your child play.

It is
feel safe.

It's amazing the things you learn on a field trip to a farm.

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

The Big Announcement!

We meant to wait a while, until we were further along into the process, but we got eager and excited to share with our friends and family.

We're expecting a child to enter our family next summer!! That's right!
We've started the adoption process again!

We have placed a specific child on hold. A young girl. She is ten and has lived her life in an orphanage.

We have made this choice with careful consideration.

We are as informed as we can be at this point in the process.

We will not be sharing her photos or any information on facebook or on this blog until the adoption is complete. We maintained this respect for privacy during Ivan's adoption and I feel we should do this again. If you'd like to message us directly, we will gladly share our joy with you!

We are thankful for your continued support.

Off we go!

Sunday, October 5, 2014

Time Flies

You know that old saying?
"Time flies when you're having fun!"
Well, Time flies, no matter what.

It's been months since I've updated here and I feel sad about it. So many things have happened that I don't have documented.

At 12 weeks home, we had an emergency placement join our household, and let me tell you that shook us all up. Ivan didn't know what to think about this little guy who was needier than him! Sharing Momma? OH NO! And Little Guy definitely needed attention. Just as the kids were starting to get settled having him around, it was time for him to move on to his forever family. He was in our home for 8 weeks.

See, having Little Guy come along when he did thew us for a royal loop. We were still in survival mode with Ivan, Magda had just started pre-k (in a miraculous moment of pure luck), and Mordecai was struggling with losing his sister for a large chunk of every day. Little Guy came in with more severe needs than Ivan. More severe behaviour than Ivan. More emotional trauma than Ivan. He demanded time, attention, care, love.  All of us learned a very necessary lesson in compassion, patience, and perseverance. 

I also was forced to take a step back and reassess my own expectations and stresses with Ivan. Watching Little Guy struggle as hard as he was broke my heart but it also reminded me that Ivan wasn't struggling in that way any longer. We had gotten past the hour long screaming fits. We had gotten past a lot of the really nonsensical behavior and I hadn't even realized it. I was pushing so hard to get him to be "Normal" that I'd forgotten that he WAS being normal. Absolutely normal for what was happening in his life at that moment. 

Once Little Guy moved on, we dealt with some real fears that cropped up in Ivan that we didn't not expect. Ivan was aware of what was going on when Little Guy was leaving and he became afraid that we were going to make him leave, too! It broke my heart. I tried explaining to him, but with his comprehension, I never know how much he takes in from what I say. But I know he knew what was happening that day and he was afraid that he would be forced to leave too.

After Little Guy left, Charlie and I had a serious discussion about services for Ivan. We had delayed starting services for one reason or another through the summer and as the beginning of school approached, we had to consider enrolling him. We had him evaluated by the child development department and he qualified to attend the Specialized Education School in our area. It's an amazing opportunity. We decided to enroll him.

I had so many fears that he might be afraid because of the institutional setting. I was afraid he would think I was leaving him at another orphanage. I was afraid he would be scared or angry and I wouldn't be there for him. 

He handled it better than I did, to be perfectly honest. If Mordecai hadn't have been with me the morning I drove Ivan to school to start class, I would have cried in the parking lot. 

Ivan has been home for 8 months now. He's been in school for a month.
He has started wanting to feed himself with a spoon or fork. He has started preferring to drink from a cup and is getting better at managing a straw. He has just recently starting actually using the potty when I set him on it. (!!!!) He is still using a limited number of signs for expression. He has randomly said actual words, appropriately and in context, just when the whim hits him.
"All done."

He is more aware and present lately. He has started playing with toys. He is more adventurous when playing outside. He can maneuver the playground completely on his own. Swinging. Climbing, Jumping on the trampoline. Running through the grass. Pushing himself down the slide. 

He laughs. He makes eye contact now much more frequently and in a more relaxed way. He is just starting to try and interact with his siblings. Mordecai is really blossoming in building a relationship with Ivan and Ivan is beginning to respond to him and play back, in his own way.

I was afraid. I was so afraid during the adoption process.  "What are we doing to our family? What are we doing to Magda and Mordecai? Am I ruining everything? What if Ivan hates us? What if we can't handle him? Oh, God, What if he NEVER learns any new skills?"
I was afraid after we met him. "What if he doesn't bond? What if he never learns English?"
I was afraid when we first brought him home. "What if we don't survive this? What have I done? What if he never heals from this huge upheaval? What if our family never finds a new normal? Oh, no! What if this horror is our new normal?

Now, I'm not so afraid. 
Now, I think we're finding a new normal that is feeling more comfortable. More relaxed. More happy. 

They tell you, in adoption, eventually your family won't be in survival mode. Eventually, you won't be crisis parenting. When you first get home, you don't believe these things.

But it's true. Eventually, things feel good. Eventually, you don't even think about the fact that the child is adopted. Eventually, you don't worry if a behaviour is orphanage related. Eventually, it's just your kid. Eventually, it's just your family.

Eventually, it's okay.

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Eleven weeks

"Do you feel bonded to him? On a scale of one to ten. One being not at all and ten being like a birth child." The lady at the clinic asks and I'm stuck for a moment because I'm unsure of the correct definition of the word 'bonded'. Then I'm mentally checking little boxes off a list, things we've done, ways we've grown close, and I'm wondering if there are more marked off the list than are left on it. Checking the recesses of my heart, what do I feel toward this child that I've known less than half a year?
I end up saying, Yes, I feel bonded. Possibly at nine, maybe even ten. I end up saying, I definitely feel committed to him. I say, I feel like we have a nice foundation to begin building a real relationship on.

In just this last week, Ivan has began relaxing into our relationship. He has started showing trust in ways he had not before. He's allowing me to rock him to sleep on occasion, which is a huge step in trusting for him, as he is very reliant and controlling of his bed time stimming ritual. With him allowing me to rock him, it also allows for much more snugly, fulfilling, loving time.  He will relax into my arms, resting his head against my chest or on my shoulder. This is an amazing difference from the needy, empty wallering for outside stimulation kind of 'loving' that was all that he offered when we first met him and is still more often prone to do.

He will now offer to the sign "all done" every time I ask him to, unless, of course, he is NOT finished with an activity. (Which is awesome!) He's figuring out that the Signs carry meaning and weight. He's learning to use the sign as a communication tool. I've began to add back in a few more signs. Eat. More. Swing. Change. These are all signs that I puppet him through before we do each activity. He has to tell me the sign before these things happen. He now will offer his hands to me and willingly allow me to puppet him through the sign where before he would fight away.

He has even been given a choice between signing "All Done" and "More" and made the choice himself which sign to use. THIS is the groundwork for communication.  This is him learning that I care about what he wants and I want to teach him how to express it.

I've started using every sign I know when I speak with him. I've also started speaking a little louder. When we had his hearing tested, they said he may actually have some slight hearing loss. My speaking quietly and calmly to him may have been all a wasted effort.

Ivan has started being very aware and very present in the world around him.  Where before he seemed utterly uninterested in whatever may be going on around him, now he has begun to react to his surroundings. He is interested  and exploring and discovering and becoming a part of the world around himself and he is beginning to show proper emotional responses to these experiences.
He laughs when he is swinging.
He watches when his siblings swing along side him and he will track them forward and back behind him even as he is swinging and he will smile.
He startles when the swing moves in an unexpected way.
When Mordecai pulled the wagon over the concrete, Ivan ran to me, crawling up into my lap, looking for safety.

I'll repeat that line.

When Ivan got scared, he ran to me looking for safety.
The moment he did that, I knew he had become completely tuned in to the world that he is living in and that he is aware that Mommy=Safe. We immediately looked up the sign for "safe". (If you're interested, it looks a lot like when the umpire at a baseball game calls the runner 'safe' at the plate.)

Because Ivan doesn't have his own words, I need to give them to him. This means that I might sound really strange because I've started telling him social stories from his point of view when something happens to him.
When Mordecai pulled the wagon and Ivan ran to me, I dove into a social story:
"Mordecai was pulling that wagon. It was loud and I felt scared. I came to Mommy where I feel safe."
Today at church I was able to watch him slide out of a swing before he was ready for it to happen. He fell right to his little bottom then got up and ran to me. I scooped him up saying, "I fell out of my swing. I felt scared and hurt. I came to Mommy where I feel safe."
So if you overhear me talking to Ivan and I don't make sense, well, it might be a situation like this. (Or it might just be me talking, there's really no telling.)

We are building trust. We are building a relationship. We are growing love.
I know I'm not doing everything right. I know.
This is all hard and there are days where I'm not doing any of it at all correctly but we're trying.
I can't wait till we get him therapy.

Friday, April 18, 2014

Rose ain't my tint.

I feel like my last post was a touch too...rose tinted.

So here's some of the ugly underbelly of our daily lives 9 weeks home.
As I learn Ivan and his little quirks, I've been slowly addressing them. This means that the little tricks that he used in the orphanage to be able to do whatever he wanted are being taken from him in ways that leave him utterly pissed off.  Momma has high expectations and Momma has nothing else to do with her day but make sure you try and meet them. *shrugs* SO when he pulls his trick of "I can't hear you/ I'm weird and just don't respond to commands or my name sometimes because of selective hearing loss and there's half a chance you'll just leave me here to keep doing whatever I want instead of coming to get me so It's worth the try." and I know he hears me and understands me and I demand that he respond to me and follow the directions I'm giving him without me coming to get him. Well. That just leaves him a tantruming mess sometimes.
He's been home long enough that, even though we use safety gates to keep him out of certain rooms, he is very aware that even if the gate is accidentally left open- He's not supposed to be in that room. SO when I get him down from the table and he sees the gate to my bedroom is open and he hightails it to that room and I verbally remind him "Don't go in that room!" and he still makes a run for the open door and I use the harshest voice I have in my arsenal to stop him dead in his tracks saying "I know you understand me! Do NOT go in that room!" and he wanders out like I just kicked his new puppy and Charlie is giving me this look and asking "What's your problem?" and I snap back to him "My problem is that he knows he isn't supposed to go in there but he plays dumb to keep from having anyone expect him to follow the rules! Well, I expect him to follow them!"
I've caught on to his little trick of squirreling food into his cheeks so that he can get out of eating anything else of the meal by "waiting out" the staff and then he is released from the table and wanders around then lets the food packed into his cheeks just fall out somewhere. Hence not eating a sticking bite of the meal. Which doesn't fly here. I've started not letting him cheek food and when he does, I won't let him down from the table until he chews it and swallows it. I told him once, "This isn't the orphanage, sweet cheeks. There's no time limit here. You can sit at that table for the next four hours. I got nothing to do today but watch you chew!"
He doesn't like it.
He still will pick up trash and random crap from the floor/ ground and put THAT in his mouth and chew THAT and swallow THAT without issue and quite gleefully even. *hard glare* Funny how he just can't manage to work his tongue to spit CHEWED UP ACORN out of his mouth but he can cheek roast beef for an hour and somehow I find it on the living room floor like ..... So now I have started expecting him to spit that trash back out instead of me scooping it out of his mouth. He REALLY hates that. I've also started being VERY on top of watching his hands while he has the freedom to get around. If he even LOOKS like he is picking up and object and thinking about eating it I'll remind him, "NOT IN YOUR MOUTH." and he gives me this hard side eye where I imagine he is cussing me nine ways from Sunday.
We are also working on this totally awesome habit that Ivan has of stuffing his hands into his diaper and, oh, you know, playing with whatever he might find in there.
That's why we've started putting him almost exclusively in onsies with pants or jumper outfits. I'm seriously considering bike shorts or tight leggings to go on under onsies during the summer because it gets too hot here for that child to be in pants all the time. (I've also seriously considered gymnastic leotards, the tight ankle-to-wrist full bodied kind. Yes. I have.)
We also have good days and bad days. There are days that Ivan is super present and in the moment and those days are wonderful. There are other days where Ivan tries to pull every trick he has to seem like he's living on another planet so that he can get out of doing what he is supposed to be doing. There are days that we go out to the play ground and he is all over the ladder and slide and swings and trampoline. There are days where we go out and all he does is stare at a tree and stim for an hour. It's really a toss up sometimes.

But I can't fight every battle. I can't. If I fought every single battle that comes up with this kid, we'd have zero time for anything else and there would be absolutely NO opportunity for bonding. We would have no positive experiences. So I try to side step some of the battles. I choose the ones that are just inescapable and MUST be fought and the others... Well.

Sometimes we spend three hours outside with him staring at a tree and stimming.

I get overwhelmed. There are times through out our day that I have to put Ivan in the play pen, where he is safe and there are toys to entertain him, and I have to just walk away. I have to go into a different room and I have to take very deep breaths. For a long time. I have to remind myself that this is not a war. I have to remind myself that I don't have to fight against his past. I have to remind myself that HE has no idea and that suddenly having someone have standards and expectations for him is WILD for him. I have to take a deep breath and remind myself that we have the rest of his life. He won't be 30 and eating acorns still. (Or, you know, if he is still eating acorns by that point... they've a source of protein, right?)

All my coping mechanisms that I used to get myself through the adoption process? I can't really use them now because I don't have time to sit down and watch an episode of some crap TV show every time I feel overwhelmed or frustrated. I would need a port installed and have it mainlined into my system 24 hours a day. I don't have the ability to pay attention to a book enough to find relief there. And there's absolutely no way I can write. I can't concentrate long enough to do anything really refreshing.

I just do the best I can. I'm going on almost 3 months solid that I've spent 24 hours a day, 7 days a week at this with only about 4 hours spent away from Ivan. I take my breaks where I can get them, five minutes at a time scattered through out the day, and If I use that five minutes to laugh about some stupid TV show, well, at least I'm laughing.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

9 Weeks

We are nearing 9 weeks home and the changes that are coming over our family still are staggering.

Ivan continues to surprise us daily. He is still reluctant to hold items that are too big to fit into his mouth and feed himself bites from them BUT he does it anyway, on occasion. Every single time I witness it, I punch the air and silently yell "YES!"
He is beginning to do things that are adorable and the building blocks for shared communication. A week or so ago, he started blowing kisses (with minimal prompting and assistance). Then he began randomly giving kisses. Sometimes it is a big slobbery open mouthed kiss that is similar to one given by an 8 month old baby. Sometimes it is a sweet little kiss where he manages to pucker his little lips together and press them flat against mine. Sometimes he just licks my face. *shrugs* Sometimes, although rarely, he will make the "mmmmmmwah" sound during the kiss. It is precious and I cherish those even more. I praise him and thank him for the kisses every single time.
He randomly offers hugs as well. He's beginning to offer hugs that feel real. They do not feel like empty interaction and it is glorious.
He is making eye contact, unprompted, more and more frequently. It is playful and fleeting but it is happening.
He has become SO confident which, in turn, has shown us how very curious he is. He is confident to wander the house and explore now. He is comfortable being in a different room than the room I am in.  He will wander into the bedrooms to play while I stay in the living room. This doesn't sound like much but it is a huge difference from the child we first brought home who needed to be right by my side every moment of the day (if he wasn't strapped to my chest, that is). It shows how comfortable and confident he has become in our home environment.
Yesterday, I was cleaning the kid's rooms and I was moving from room to room, stepping around Ivan as I moved toys from one room to the other, and he never once followed me around the house. He was able to maintain playing with the bowl he was tapping without being distracted by my activity around him. He was able to play without focusing on "Where's Mom?" It was really a big deal.
He has started trying to do the sign for "All done" when I demand it (which is at the end of every single activity we do through out the day, I'm such a fuddy duddy and so insistant) and he is beginning to do it with less and less prompting and assistance. Where I spent weeks puppeting his hands through the motions, now I can say to him "Say 'all done'!" and he will offer his arms to me. I hold his elbows to steady his arms and he does the movement with his hands himself. He is fully capable of doing the sign completely on his own, just as he is capable of blowing kisses all on his own but he INSISTS on having me hold his elbow before he will do it.
I don't get it but I'll do it. Maybe 3 weeks from now, He won't even need that.

He is generally a happy child. He runs through the house jumping, laughing, and making various sounds. He climbs onto the couch and bounces, rocks, sways. He laughs, randomly, to himself. He discovered the air vents in the floor one day and spent a considerable amount of time with his face pressed against one, peering down through the slats and feeling the air blow against his face and laughing.
He plays on his own in a way that actually resembles "play" now instead of being solid stimming. It is still stim-like in that there is stim-like movements of bouncing, rocking, swaying, jumping, flapping, swatting, flailing but he does these movements in a way that interacts with his environment. He will sit in Charlie's recliner and sway and rock and flail to cause the chair to rock back and forward.
I've caught him trying tasks on his own as well. Sitting and trying to slide his feet into his shoes on his own. Trying to climb into the stroller on his own. Trying to PUSH the stroller on his own. Picking up the clothes hamper and trying to put it over his head on his own.  (It's a game we play, don't judge.)
I've caught him trying to interact with Magda and Mork, unprompted and unassisted. I've seen him approach them, showing interest in a toy they are holding and reach out and touch the toy. I've seen him pet Magda's hair. I've seen him sit on Mork's back while Mordecai was laying on the couch and they stayed that way, happily, for a long while.
I've caught Ivan and Mork in games of mimic and back and forth, especially if it's bedtime and they're neither one ready to sleep.
He is interested in toys and how they work, what they do, sounds they make, how they feel, how they taste. He is actually playing with toys the way they are made to be played with. Of course, they are toys made for 6-18 months but I figure that's about where he's functioning.
I firmly believe Ivan understands the majority of what we say to him. If he isn't understanding English, the child is much more clever than anyone has thought because, without understanding spoken word, he is able to read body language and situational cues to figure out what we want him to do.
(I'm an adult that knows English and sometimes I can't pick up on body language or situational cues enough to figure out what's going on, let's be real, y'all.)

Last week, in a surprise turn of events, Magda started Pre-K and the change in schedule has really thrown us all for a loop. However, the change up of Mork only having Ivan to play with in the Mornings has made for some uncharacteristically quiet mornings here. Mork, when left to play on his own, is generally quiet.
We've found that Ivan is much quieter, as well. With less excitement, and as he settles in more, there is less creaking (from grinding his teeth) and less chirping (a stim vocalization he picked up once home) and more baby like babbling.
Pre-K is challenging Magda gently but it is forcing her to be away from home in an environment that she isn't familiar with. She seems to be settling in well, though. She is a little more clingy at bedtime.
Mork has been more clingy during the morning while Magda is away at school. He misses her but he is learning to play on his own and he is also learning how to play with Ivan. It is cute watching them learn each other.
I am still exhausted at the end of the day. We've cut down on nap time to the point that Ivan doesn't nap at all most days. However, he's started sleeping MUCH better at night, sometimes up to 11 or 12 hours. I've found a herbal sleep aid that I've been giving him for about a week now. We went from almost 3 hours of stimming fighting sleep until he finally fell into an exhausted sleep to about fifteen mins of quiet restful chatter before he falls into silence without any stimming.
It is beautiful and makes our evenings and bedtimes much less stressful for everyone.

We are looking forward to our appointment with the International Adoption Clinic in the city. It's a few weeks away still but we are hoping to learn exactly where Ivan is developmentally as well as hopefully having an official diagnosis and maybe even the beginnings of therapy. (Please?!)

Also, We received  Ivan's Certificate of Citizenship in the mail yesterday. Now we get his SSN and then we can have him assessed by the school system for therapies, as well.
I'm excited.