Monday, February 25, 2008

Bad, bad Mama!

There had been so many things within the last week I had wanted to share and had not found the time to do so. Looking back all I can say is I have not been on my A game. I believe it had all started shortly after I made my last post on the 14th.

I answer the phone to hear...
"Mom, I've done something really stupid."
"What did you do honey?" I was really afraid to ask.
"I had a safety pin in my mouth while I was talking and swallowed it."
"How the fuck did you manage that?!" <----Bad Mama!
" I didn't mean to."
"I know sweety, I'm sorry. Was it open or closed?"

Thank goodness it was closed and after a few calls I found out we would have to wait for it to make it's grand reappearance. I did go pick her up early however because I could tell she was on the verge of tears from embarrassment.

A few days later, after I had taken the girls to school, I discover Connor has a low grade fever and can't go to school. He is tired not feeling well and will barely move from his bed when hubby answers the phone. My sister was calling to make sure we know that Melody's school is on lock down. I turn on the news to find out a girl reported seeing a male talking to two other young males in the cafeteria and he made a gesture that suggested he may have a gun.

Full panic! I want to go retrieve my daughter right now before some lunatic goes on a shooting spree! My hubby has to explain to me that lock down means I can get nowhere near the school much less get to her, even though I know this, I feel an exception should be made. I want to call her but she has very little units left on her cell. <--Bad Mama! So I decide to text her instead. I get no response. I find out later that this is the day she forgets her cell at home.

I do get information while I wait from my cousin who is a senior at the same school. He calls another of my cousins, who then calls my sister, who then calls me. They are all in their classrooms with the doors locked, lights out, and on the floor in the far corner of the room. I can only imagine how scared my baby must be and I break into fresh tears, again.

I let guilt get the best of me as I see swarms of parents wait outside the police barriers. I can't go. Hubby has went to work, Connor is sick and shouldn't be out in the cold like that. Even if he wasn't sick he is 3 1/2 and autistic, he isn't going to just stand there and behave. No there would be much running, kicking, screaming, scratching, and lying about on the ground. A police barrier isn't the place for a young child anyway. It also occurs to me that after the scene we would cause I may find myself questioned by police and the new subject of a social worker investigation.

They finally give the all clear and Hubby picks Melody up at the normal time, because some 250 parents were in front of him in line. The male seen that morning was from another school and did have a gun but had left shortly after being spotted. He was picked up by police later that day in a stolen car.

The next day I take Connor to the doctor. The trip there is a post in itself. He has a double ear infection. As we are leaving at around 10:10 Melody calls and asks "Mom, are you ready to pick me up?"
"Why do I need to pick you up right now?" I begin to feel nervous that they are having a repeat of the day before.
"They released school early because an ice storm is coming."
"I'm just leaving the Dr's office I'll be there as fast as I can."

Grace's school was nice enough to send teacher's out to the parking lot with walkie talkies to announce the name of the student when the parent showed up. Saving the kids from freezing their rears off. Melody's school however, the same one that protected her so diligently the day before, tossed the students out in to the ice and snow. I picked up one very pink, cold, annoyed teenager. Well at least she was only flash frozen.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Doctor, Doctor!

Give me the news....

I've got a bad case of lovin' you!!!

Happy Valentine's Day!

Monday, February 11, 2008

Coping with Progression

"Hey Melody!"
We had just got home from school. She was making herself a snack, when her little brother decided he was going to be social. It was a shock, she stood there slack jawed and brow furrowed until I prompted her to respond. She had suddenly become socially challenged.
"Whatcha doing?"
"Ah, making a soft pretzel. You want a bite?"
He looks down at the plate she has in her hand, reaches out and takes off with the whole thing. Stopping a few feet from her he looks at the pretzel in his hand and asks "What is it?"
"It's a pretzel." She explains.

We are bewildered and ecstatic over this sudden development, but we also know there may be hell to pay. Every time there is progression in any form with him, there is also an adjustment period when sleep isn't great, extreme pressure is needed, more Mom-mom time is required, and a general urge to run amuck slamming and pushing on everything. This is a far sight better however than the meltdown fest that use to occur right before a major spurt of progression. For this we are grateful. However the amount of discontent usually coincides with the amount of progression. The bigger the achievement the more out of sorts.

I had thought that would be it for a little while, he made good eye contact and asked questions just to be social along with using the name of the person he was addressing. It was conversation, words spoken not to ask for something (even though he stole the pretzel). Not script or description of cars, dinosaurs, numbers, letters, or movies. This just a few days after spelling his name aloud for his aide. This was major!

However the next day he let us know he was not done. He and his sisters were playing in the basement when the urge to socialize hit again.
"Gracie. Melody. Mom-mom. I running!" He informs us as he darts here and there across the room. The girls pretend to be mimes, making it appear they are going down stairs behind the sofa. He thinks it's funny but has to ask "Where are you, Melody?" When it gets closer to bedtime and I inform him he has so many minutes before we have to go upstairs, he turns from me, starts climbing the stairs, waves his hand behind him saying "Bye bye Melody, see you later."

I have to prompt her again to respond so as to make it worth his effort. I can tell from the look on her face that while she is delighted she is wondering, as am I, how much more he can handle doing before he turns his head 360 degrees, projectile vomits pea soup, and starts speaking in tongues like the girl from The Exorcist.