The artist

Unfortunately, we missed Nikko's playgroup this morning because the babysitter got a flat tire driving over some potholes. This did not completely deter her from coming over, however, as she was able to take the Metra around lunchtime. This benefitted me so I could go see the chiropractor without kids in tow. This was the first time she was going to take care of all 3 kids. I know she's skittish about caring for Audrey while she's awake, but that can't always be helped. Audrey can't always be sleeping. She's also a little skittish about handling Nikko if/when he gets into a tantrum about something, like when he's at the park and he doesn't want to leave. I've had to just show her some tactics to use to remove him from the situation i.e. physically picking him up and carrying him away and/or coaxing him out of the park with promises of snack time at home. That worked for me the last time, and I came through accordingly. No empty threats there; that wouldn't foster trust.

I came back from the chiro and packed everyone into the Pilot and headed to OT at the clinic. Shelly made an obstable course for Nikko and encouraged him to peek-a-boo games. He was all fired up and crashing at the beginning of the session. By mid-session he was becoming mellow by crawling through some tunnels halfway. At the end of the session Shelly had him painting the mirror with shaving cream. As he sat and waved the paintbrush back and forth I heard him mimic Shelly's conversational tone. That's the first time I ever heard him do that. Nikko really enjoyed painting and making strokes on the mirror with the goopy shaving cream; Shelly called him a Picasso. Overall I'd say he had a good session with Shelly. It was hard to remove all the paintbrushes and foam from him, but I was able to show him his juice, which he promptly drank while seated in the stroller. We had to take the sitter home after therapy so the kids got some nap time in, at least 30 minutes. Later in the evening I had a visit from my good friend Tracy. Nikko didn't show much attention toward her, though he did look at her when she came and sat at the table. He didn't leave his seat either, content to watch us chatter, and perked up even more when she hauled out the french fries. Later in the basement he was eager to bound back and forth between foof chairs, but perhaps he was content because he had wolfed down the rest of the fries when he came back upstairs while I gave Tracy a tour of the basement.

I'm hoping to finish that book tonight or tomorrow because I really want to start applying some of the techniques I read about.