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.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Thursday, February 14, 2008
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.
"Yeah?"
"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.
"Pretzel!"
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.
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.
"Yeah?"
"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.
"Pretzel!"
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.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Graceful equations
Once upon a time, it seems a long time ago, I was a highly intellegent youth. Or so I was told. I took my SAT's while in middle school and had colleges calling to recruit me before I ever stepped in to highschool. Yes I was quite full of myself and my brainpower. Now that I am a little older and have children that have just entered or about to enter highschool it seems to me that either I or the educational system back then was highly deluded.
The flu has picked on our household member by member starting with my husband last Friday. Connor and I are finally fever free but now my Gracie is ill and worse than that, she has been incredibly bored just hanging out in bed watching T.V. Strange as she would be perfectly happy to sit and watch T.V. if she were well. Being so bored, she ventured out into the dining room during dinner to sit with the rest of the family although she had no appetite.
She brought along paper, pencil and calculator, sat with us, and did equations. It is something I can imagine Connor doing at nauseum when he discovers what you can do with numbers. She does this for something to do often. I think she she does it for fun. I watch her amazed and proud, as well a tad ashamed that my brain is dimmer now and for the life of me could not tell you what all the numbers and signs mean.
Her older sister looks over taking a gander at what she is up to and exclaims "Oh let me see it for a sec!" She takes the paper and pencil, pausing only a few seconds to go over it all scribbles a bit more down then hands the paper back to her younger sister.
"What did you do?" Gracie asks lazily.
"I found the slope." She answers proudly.
Looking at her sister as if she was a lower life form she replies, "OMG we learned that last year!"
My mom voice had escaped me "Grace Ellen!"
"What?!" her and her father ask at the same.
"What did she do?" He asks as he wasn't listen to the first part of the conversation.
"She's a being a math snob! Gracie honey, sometimes it's not what you say but how you say it."
"I know, I know. Sorry." She offers to her sister who now has her feelings hurt.
"But Mom she's an English snob!"
Funny how they can always salvage an argument out of every conversation.
The flu has picked on our household member by member starting with my husband last Friday. Connor and I are finally fever free but now my Gracie is ill and worse than that, she has been incredibly bored just hanging out in bed watching T.V. Strange as she would be perfectly happy to sit and watch T.V. if she were well. Being so bored, she ventured out into the dining room during dinner to sit with the rest of the family although she had no appetite.
She brought along paper, pencil and calculator, sat with us, and did equations. It is something I can imagine Connor doing at nauseum when he discovers what you can do with numbers. She does this for something to do often. I think she she does it for fun. I watch her amazed and proud, as well a tad ashamed that my brain is dimmer now and for the life of me could not tell you what all the numbers and signs mean.
Her older sister looks over taking a gander at what she is up to and exclaims "Oh let me see it for a sec!" She takes the paper and pencil, pausing only a few seconds to go over it all scribbles a bit more down then hands the paper back to her younger sister.
"What did you do?" Gracie asks lazily.
"I found the slope." She answers proudly.
Looking at her sister as if she was a lower life form she replies, "OMG we learned that last year!"
My mom voice had escaped me "Grace Ellen!"
"What?!" her and her father ask at the same.
"What did she do?" He asks as he wasn't listen to the first part of the conversation.
"She's a being a math snob! Gracie honey, sometimes it's not what you say but how you say it."
"I know, I know. Sorry." She offers to her sister who now has her feelings hurt.
"But Mom she's an English snob!"
Funny how they can always salvage an argument out of every conversation.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Primative man and the mullet
Like many, my son is protective over parts of his body. Mainly his head. He can stand for hands to touch it and even being massaged with finger tips, for a limited amount of time. The problems occur with the presence of tools. Same with his hands or fingers, again touching is fine if not in a restrictive or forceful manner, until the appearance of tools.
I do manage to keep his nails trim and clean for the most part, because I get one maybe two a night before bed when he is calm and attempts of escape are not as effective. His hair however is a different story. With both of these problems I have been told "Do it in his sleep." The problem with this is I always hit the spot on the floor that squeaks and causes him to arouse from a deep sleep. If I miss the spot and reach him it is only momentary. The feel of touch during sleep causing him to slightly open his eyes to check out his surroundings to make sure all is well. I am sure I could not find many people to say they would be fine with dozing back off to dreamland after awakening to find your mother towering over you, scissors in hand.
Assuming I do get in and get a snip in here or there and beside the fact I am wary of having scissors near my sons head at the wee hours of night, if I start at the top/front do I just pray mullets temporarily come back in style? We are in Kentucky it may play off. If I can start in the back does that make things much better? A tellum? Then there is always the Victor/Victoria option, where I am able to only get half of his head. Also what about the hair that does get cut off. How to keep it from him and his bed so the rest of the night isn't followed by tears and meltdown due to itching.
I have seen a few boys with long hair that look just fine, but then again being able to brush or comb the hair does help to keep that grizzly appearance at bay. No it seems the answer may be to slowly desensitize (it that a word? if it is, is it possible?).
The OT suggests that I continue touching his head as often as possible to get him to realise all is well. Letting him hold the clippers while on and covered to protect. Going to a barber shop and explain the we need to visit a few times to watch and then make an attempt. Make sure that he is given a thorough bath after to make sure no hair is on him and make it a pleasant experience.
Those OT folks make things sound so obvious and simple don't they? Wish us luck!
I do manage to keep his nails trim and clean for the most part, because I get one maybe two a night before bed when he is calm and attempts of escape are not as effective. His hair however is a different story. With both of these problems I have been told "Do it in his sleep." The problem with this is I always hit the spot on the floor that squeaks and causes him to arouse from a deep sleep. If I miss the spot and reach him it is only momentary. The feel of touch during sleep causing him to slightly open his eyes to check out his surroundings to make sure all is well. I am sure I could not find many people to say they would be fine with dozing back off to dreamland after awakening to find your mother towering over you, scissors in hand.
Assuming I do get in and get a snip in here or there and beside the fact I am wary of having scissors near my sons head at the wee hours of night, if I start at the top/front do I just pray mullets temporarily come back in style? We are in Kentucky it may play off. If I can start in the back does that make things much better? A tellum? Then there is always the Victor/Victoria option, where I am able to only get half of his head. Also what about the hair that does get cut off. How to keep it from him and his bed so the rest of the night isn't followed by tears and meltdown due to itching.
I have seen a few boys with long hair that look just fine, but then again being able to brush or comb the hair does help to keep that grizzly appearance at bay. No it seems the answer may be to slowly desensitize (it that a word? if it is, is it possible?).
The OT suggests that I continue touching his head as often as possible to get him to realise all is well. Letting him hold the clippers while on and covered to protect. Going to a barber shop and explain the we need to visit a few times to watch and then make an attempt. Make sure that he is given a thorough bath after to make sure no hair is on him and make it a pleasant experience.
Those OT folks make things sound so obvious and simple don't they? Wish us luck!
Friday, January 11, 2008
Speech therapy and cows
Whoopie! We have a new speech therapist!
Connor had been missing his speech therapist that moved back to her hometown. His OT is in the same building so everytime we would visit the OT he would try to go to his speech therapist's old room and then meltdowns would follow.
We were told about the new therapist on Wedsnesday and had an appointment the following day at 1 right after school. When she comes out to the waiting room and starts talking to him he warms up to her immediatly.
"Hi, Connor!" she is very soft with him but shows she is very happy to see him.
He looks at her and takes her hand and I ask him "Can you say hello to Ms. B?"
He looks at her again, a huge smile on his face, and leans in to give her a kiss.
We brought his book along to show her the song that Ms. H had taught him before she left. Alot of Ms. H's old clients have been taught this song and Ms. B was glad to finally get the full scope of what it was about. We went over the old goals and I was surprised about how much Connor has improved since they were wrote up.
Transitioning is still a major goal as is attending to nonperferred activities, but labeling is in the past as he does this as well as ask for things that he doesn't see. She decided we should skip ahead a little to start the use of 2 -3 word sentences even though he was telling us "I got triangle.", "It's a letter T." as we were talking. As the use of these sentences are VERY new I consented to this being the starting point.
He had me baffled however that since the moment we arrived on the premises he started asking for a cow. I tried singing "Old MacDonald" and that do the trick for a little while, but as the session ended and we were leaving he says "Want Cow!" and it was a job to get him up and out to the car. Once out in the car he decides to abandon his request and instead ask for "Hamburger?".
Surely he doesn't know what hamburgers are made of! He never really wants a hamburger when he asks for them anyway he always wants fries and chicken nuggets. He just knows that the places you get such quality food always have pictures of hamburgers. I talked about this situation with his older sister when she was out of school. The child actually looked at me with pity in her eyes, her poor old mother just doesn't have a clue about what's going on, how do I make through the day alone she must wonder.
"No he doesn't want a hamburger." She sighs.
"Well what then?"
"While you were at the therapist's he wanted the farm animal puzzle the OT has down the hall! When you got out to the car he was hungry and wanted nuggets and fries." She explains.
I wonder if they will let her answer her cell phone at school in case I have any other questions for her?
Connor had been missing his speech therapist that moved back to her hometown. His OT is in the same building so everytime we would visit the OT he would try to go to his speech therapist's old room and then meltdowns would follow.
We were told about the new therapist on Wedsnesday and had an appointment the following day at 1 right after school. When she comes out to the waiting room and starts talking to him he warms up to her immediatly.
"Hi, Connor!" she is very soft with him but shows she is very happy to see him.
He looks at her and takes her hand and I ask him "Can you say hello to Ms. B?"
He looks at her again, a huge smile on his face, and leans in to give her a kiss.
We brought his book along to show her the song that Ms. H had taught him before she left. Alot of Ms. H's old clients have been taught this song and Ms. B was glad to finally get the full scope of what it was about. We went over the old goals and I was surprised about how much Connor has improved since they were wrote up.
Transitioning is still a major goal as is attending to nonperferred activities, but labeling is in the past as he does this as well as ask for things that he doesn't see. She decided we should skip ahead a little to start the use of 2 -3 word sentences even though he was telling us "I got triangle.", "It's a letter T." as we were talking. As the use of these sentences are VERY new I consented to this being the starting point.
He had me baffled however that since the moment we arrived on the premises he started asking for a cow. I tried singing "Old MacDonald" and that do the trick for a little while, but as the session ended and we were leaving he says "Want Cow!" and it was a job to get him up and out to the car. Once out in the car he decides to abandon his request and instead ask for "Hamburger?".
Surely he doesn't know what hamburgers are made of! He never really wants a hamburger when he asks for them anyway he always wants fries and chicken nuggets. He just knows that the places you get such quality food always have pictures of hamburgers. I talked about this situation with his older sister when she was out of school. The child actually looked at me with pity in her eyes, her poor old mother just doesn't have a clue about what's going on, how do I make through the day alone she must wonder.
"No he doesn't want a hamburger." She sighs.
"Well what then?"
"While you were at the therapist's he wanted the farm animal puzzle the OT has down the hall! When you got out to the car he was hungry and wanted nuggets and fries." She explains.
I wonder if they will let her answer her cell phone at school in case I have any other questions for her?
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Playtime over!
The holidays are over and children back in school. I drop each off then recline in my desk chair taking a deep breath; "ah" followed by another. I love the holidays and loved having my children home with me during the days, but there is always too much of a good thing.
Holidays meant that the only therapy Connor was getting was occupational and there were 3 appointments in 2 months that were cancelled due to days off. Connor was in a right state, music therapy being halted because of ear infections, brushing halted due to aversion after an accidental scratch. When we arrived for therapy last Friday I think the OT didn't know which one to she should put to work, him or me.
He is obviously missing his speech therapist that moved back to her hometown and we are patiently waiting for the next one appointed. He sings the song she taught him constantly "Apple, Apple, ah ah ah. Baby, baby, ba ba ba...." So the girls and I printed up all the pictures that go with the song and made him his own book.
Today the happiness on his face as we passed the water tower on the way to school showed on his faced as it dawned on him where we were heading. I am actually excited to see the planned curriculum for the week although some will be old hat for him some is new stuff and some is more involved ideas than he cares for.
Learning about: Happy Birthday!
He knows all about Happy Birthday! It is the proper greeting at all times!
Letter: H
"Happy! Happy! HA HA HA" will be sung at no end.
Number: 1
He counts forward and backwards all the time.
Things they will talk about: Birth dates, month and day. First Middle and last names. He will probably memorize these no problem if he is interested. "Talk about the New Year and resolutions", this is where I am interested to see if he has interest in participating. Not being academics, involving numbers, letters, colors or shapes I just don't see why he would take an interest. They are ideas. Not saying that he doesn't have ideas, he is intelligent and imaginative, but there are many factors (audio reception among them) that make it likely he will tune them out, like a man tuning out a gaggle of women talking about their feelings.
Then again he is always making a liar out of me and making steady progress. I hope that trend continues.
Holidays meant that the only therapy Connor was getting was occupational and there were 3 appointments in 2 months that were cancelled due to days off. Connor was in a right state, music therapy being halted because of ear infections, brushing halted due to aversion after an accidental scratch. When we arrived for therapy last Friday I think the OT didn't know which one to she should put to work, him or me.
He is obviously missing his speech therapist that moved back to her hometown and we are patiently waiting for the next one appointed. He sings the song she taught him constantly "Apple, Apple, ah ah ah. Baby, baby, ba ba ba...." So the girls and I printed up all the pictures that go with the song and made him his own book.
Today the happiness on his face as we passed the water tower on the way to school showed on his faced as it dawned on him where we were heading. I am actually excited to see the planned curriculum for the week although some will be old hat for him some is new stuff and some is more involved ideas than he cares for.
Learning about: Happy Birthday!
He knows all about Happy Birthday! It is the proper greeting at all times!
Letter: H
"Happy! Happy! HA HA HA" will be sung at no end.
Number: 1
He counts forward and backwards all the time.
Things they will talk about: Birth dates, month and day. First Middle and last names. He will probably memorize these no problem if he is interested. "Talk about the New Year and resolutions", this is where I am interested to see if he has interest in participating. Not being academics, involving numbers, letters, colors or shapes I just don't see why he would take an interest. They are ideas. Not saying that he doesn't have ideas, he is intelligent and imaginative, but there are many factors (audio reception among them) that make it likely he will tune them out, like a man tuning out a gaggle of women talking about their feelings.
Then again he is always making a liar out of me and making steady progress. I hope that trend continues.
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