A lot has happened in the last couple weeks and I’ve just been out of touch with blogging about it.  I have many draft posts in my dashboard and I just can’t seem to find the creativity to finish them and hit publish.  I have a post about the first conference of the year, the annual IEP, My get away weekend (bliss), the roller skating birthday party, and I even started the obligatory “thanks for everything” post on Thanksgiving.  Now too much time has gone by and other things are happening and I’ve decided to combine them into a catch-up post.  I’ll try to keep it brief…

The Conference:

I went to the first conference of this important Kindergarten year a couple weeks ago.  I woke up early on that morning with a bit of a pit in my stomach.  Most likely I will be forever anxious about this child.  Is he learning?  I know he can memorize, but are things clicking?  Comprehension?  Is he coping?  Is he making friends?  During open house a couple months ago I was relieved to hear that he was adjusting to school and had been doing well.  I knew I would get more detail about his day and how he was doing academically at this conference.  And just like at the open house, I was relieved to hear that he is adjusting both socially and academically.  He is learning to regulate his behavior and use his words when upset or frustrated instead of lashing out.  In fact, his aggressive behaviors are almost nonexistent!  He is starting to interact more with his peers, though the adults have to help him initiate conversation.  He is following directions and is listening.  He is answering questions.  What amazed me more was that academically right now he is in the middle of the pack.  Last year when he had his four old year school psychology evaluation I was devastated when she showed me where she placed him on the bell curve and explained his IQ scores to me.  I held out hope that she was wrong, and that as his language increased he would show everyone just how smart he is, and am so glad I did.  I know that he is behind many of his peers in many areas, but I was pleased to hear that he is actually above some in certain areas!  That was something I didn’t expect and while I try my hardest not to compare (and fail most of the time) it was nice to hear that he was good at something.

Weekend Escape:

The break was lovely.  Christa and I had a wonderfully relaxing weekend during which we got massages, shopped the outlets (and I only looked at stuff for me), ate lots of good food, watched 3 chick flicks (and realized just how predictable they are after watching so many!), chatted and generally relaxed.  It was wonderful and I had much more patience to deal during the Thanksgiving marathon week when the Roc was home from school.  We will definitely repeat the experience.

The Party:

While I was away on my mini-break GC took the Roc to a birthday party at a roller skating rink.  Hello sensory overload!  According to GC (who is always a little short on details for me) the party went fine.  The Roc tried rollerskating but it was more like him hanging from GC’s arms while GC slowly pulled and pushed him around the rink.  The end of skating came quickly after the Roc got his leg tangled in GC’s and they both tumbled down.  He shed a few tears and wanted to watch from the sidelines after that.  The birthday boy came over a few times and sat with the Roc, which was very nice of him.  Apparently this little boy figured out that the Roc likes to be tickled so he kept coming over to tickle him.  I wish I could have witnessed those interactions.  The rink was loud and busy with no less than 6 birthday parties going on at once so lots of people, movement, noise, and flashing lights.  Basically a sensory nightmare for someone with some sensory issues.  The Roc coped and GC said he did seem to shut down toward the end, but he held himself together long enough to get his cupcake.  I’m so glad he went, and that GC took him despite his reservations, and that the Roc tried rollerskating!

Annual IEP:

We had the Roc’s annual IEP meeting last week and it went well.  His teacher had given me a list of goals she wanted to add to his IEP during the conference and I thought they were written well and was pleased to see some academic goals being added.  He has met, or almost met most of the goals written while in preschool and his current teacher kept many and just altered them to reflect the next phase of development for him.  Following one step directions was expanded to following two step directions, working on a non preferred task was expanded to working on task for 5 minutes, responding to verbal cues to interact with peers was expanded to sustaining conversations for 5-6 turns, etc.  Overall it was a good meeting.  Only at the end when we briefly touched on getting together again in the spring for a placement meeting to decide which setting will be appropriate for next year, and that short conversation started my anxiety about whether to have the Roc repeat a grade.  I mentioned that I was told that he could do this more supported Kindergarten this year and do a regular inclusion Kindergarten next year.  The special ed administrator firmly stated that if the Roc is still doing so well academically at the end of the year there won’t be a valid reason to hold him back…I’m going to try to shelve my fears about this for a little while and see how he progresses by spring time.  Maybe he will be ready for 1st grade by then.  Last year I certainly didn’t think he would be ready for Kindergarten at 5 and he’s doing well, he may surprise me again.

Thanksgiving:

I started a Thanksgiving post that morning and planned on taking pictures throughout the day to emphasize what I was thankful for.  I photographed the pie I baked that morning, our annual “Harvest Pie” (apples, pears, & cranberries –  sooo yummy!), but I just didn’t continue taking them throughout the day and I abandoned that idea.  We did have a nice day and we have a lot to be thankful for.  In the interest of length I won’t list them all, it’s the standard stuff anyway.  Instead of just the three of us we had one other person attend our Thanksgiving meal, GC’s friend Greg who started medical school in Washington D.C. back in August.  The Roc had lots of fun playing basketball with Greg and he commented on how much the Roc has changed since the last time he saw him during the summer.  It was nice to have company during a holiday.

Odds & Ends:

The puppy comes home in two weeks!  They are getting their 6 weeks shots today and GC and I are going to see them on Friday morning after getting the Roc on the bus.  I’m so excited.  What the heck are we getting ourselves into?!

We have decided to rip up our carpet on the first floor and put down laminate wood.  The “wood” is scattered about he house now and I’m supposed to be unloading the entertainment center and getting stuff out of the way today.  Instead I’ve been talking on the phone, reading blogs, and writing this one.  I’d better get to work.  The carpet is coming up tomorrow night!  Yikes.

Did you read this whole thing?

Yes?

Well, you must have lots of time on your hands or you’re my mother (or both!)

I’m getting away this weekend!  In about four hours my very good autism mommy friend and I will be skipping town for two whole days!  We are getting massages tomorrow and plan on watching chick flicks, painting our nails, eating, sleeping in, window shopping, chatting and chilling out (without our kids!!!).  I’m very excited and have been looking forward to getting away for quite awhile.  The Roc will be off of school ALLLLLL next week and this will give me a good chance to recharge before I’m “ON” every day for seven days straight.

There is one, little, tiny detail that I’m sorry to miss this weekend.

The Roc got invited to a birthday party!  At his conference last week I asked his teacher if the whole class was invited and she said “No, only five boys from the class were invited.”  I sat there stunned.  Which sounds bad to many people, to be stunned that my son was invited to a birthday party.  But really, he rarely gets invited to parties and I just didn’t expect it.  Apparently this little boy really likes the Roc and so he is one of five boys invited.  When I found this out I told my husband (who originally said he didn’t want to take him) that he just had to take him.  To be one of five invited is a big deal! (to me anyway!)  If he wasn’t going to take him I would consider canceling my weekend so I could take him.  After two seconds GC changed his mind and agreed to take him tomorrow afternoon.

I’m a little nervous for both of them.  The party is at a roller skating rink…  The Roc has never roller skated and from what I can remember of our local roller skating rink when I was a kid – it could be a sensory nightmare for the Roc.  He is very excited to attend this party though (mostly because he will get a GFCF cupcake) and I really want to give him the chance to experience this.  I am nervous for GC because he has never taken him to a party before.  These type of things usually fall to me.  If there is a playdate, party, or event I’m the one who takes him.  I hope GC can stay calm and positive and that no meltdowns occur (for either of them, and for both of their sakes!)  I have a lot of confidence in GC, he shines when under the gun without me, and the Roc usually behaves differently for his father than for me (many times better, go figure!)

I am sincerely hoping it will be a good experience for both of them.

And I’m not going to worry…or I’ll try not to worry…

Really, I’m going to try hard!

I’m taking two days off!  (and this is the 3rd & 4th day that I’ve had “off” since the Roc was born.  I do believe I’ve earned it.)

For a long time we wondered if the Roc understood what we were saying.  Two years ago he did not have a lot of original, spontaneous speech.  At three years old he could not answer simple questions, let alone ask them.  We knew he was hearing just fine as he could repeat whole scenes from books and cartoons verbatim, using the speakers tone of voice and inflection.  He spoke in a singsong voice and almost everything he said sounded like a question.  We were told he has an expressive language disorder, possibly mixed receptive-expressive language disorder.  No one could tell me if he was understanding what we were saying and whether or not he would someday develop the necessary language skills to be able to hold a conversation.  I was told it was a part of the autism package.

I wanted to call up the Post Office or FedEx or whoever thought to send me this package and say “take it back, I didn’t order it, and I never signed for this package!  I want to hear my baby talk, really talk!”  For so long I have been craving to hear him.  To hear his voice.  Not my voice or a Little Einstein character’s voice or a commercial, but the Roc’s voice.  I’ve been waiting to hear his voice lilt at the correct time in a sentence, to hear him express his joy and sorrow through his tone (outrage he has been able to project for a few years), to hear him imply something to the listener by inflection.  Simply to hear him express himself with his own voice.  Not only that, but I have been waiting to know if he was understanding, not just memorizing, if thing were clicking together behind though beautiful baby blues.  And they are.  And he is.

I have been astounded at the little conversations I’ve been having with the Roc lately.  He has exploded with things I didn’t know where there.  Making connections, expressing just how much he has been paying attention all this time.

The other morning we had this exchange when I was getting his breakfast ready:

Me:  “Oh dang, I stepped in cat barf.  Gross.”

Roc:  “Mommy, do you have to take a bath now?”

Me:  “No, I just need to change my sock and clean up the barf.” (I’m thinking:  OMG!  He just asked me a question about ME!)

Roc:  “Mommy, help me!  The egg burrito is falling apart!”

Me:  “Okay, I just have to wash my hands first baby.  I just cleaned up cat barf.  I don’t want to touch your food until I wash my hands”

Roc:  “And I don’t want to bite cat barf.” (Yup, that about sums it up.)

***

We had this little conversation while I was making dinner a few days later (and yes, we have lots of burritos in this house):

Roc:  “Mommy, are you going to have a burrito too?”

Me:  “No, I’m actually not feeling very well at the moment.”

Roc:  “Does your tummy hurt?”

Me:  “Yes, I feel nauseous.”

Roc:  “Are you anxious?”

Me:  “No, just an upset tummy.”

Roc:  “You should eat Mommy.” (I looked around for GC before I remembered he wasn’t home yet.  I wanted to lock eyes with him in disbelief and mouth “did you hear that?” to him.  We’ve been doing a lot of that lately.)

***

The Roc and GC had this little conversation while we were eating dinner on Thursday night:

GC:  “Hey Roc, how was your field trip today?”

Roc:  “We didn’t go on a field trip today.”

GC:  “You didn’t?  Why not?”

Roc:  “It was raining Daddy.  There was mud everywhere.” (This was said with a “Duh!” attitude and Roc looked up at GC like he was a moron!  I snorted and said “Did you hear the way he said that to you?!  It was raining D-a-d-d-y!” causing the Roc to repeat that line over and over.)

***

Today while I was getting the Roc’s lunch ready he was bouncing around me excitedly:

Roc:  “I’m going to have turkey-lurkey for lunch!  Yay!  I like turkey-lurkey”

Me:  “Okay, I’m opening up a new package of turkey just for you.  It’s your lucky day.”

Roc:  “And I’m not supposed to put it on the table.  That table is dirty.” (He has been removing food from his plate and setting it right next to the plate on the table–we had been confused about that–until today.)

Me:  “Yes, your food should stay on your plate.”

Roc:  “But I don’t like the plate to get wet.  I’m weird like that.”

Me:  “Okay…(thinking in my head did he just say “I’m weird like that?” and that explains why he keeps putting the food on the table instead of just eating off his plate!)  “How about if I put a paper towel down on your plate and put the turkey on top of it?”

Roc:  “Yes!  Okay!”

***

After lunch we did one of the Roc’s favorite things – baked brownies.  I was greasing the brownie pan and he was sitting at the table eating his turkey-lurkey (on a paper towel, on a plate) when he started the following conversation:

Roc:  “Mommy, do we go places?”

Me:  “Yes, we go lots of places.”

Roc:  “I like to go somewhere.”

Me:  “I know.  You really like to travel to far away places to.”

Roc: “Mommy, why do we get married?”

Me: …(shocked into silence, mouth hanging open, GFCF butter poised over the brownie pan, did he just ask me a why question?)  “What?  Why did we get married?  Mommy and Daddy?”

Roc:  “Mommy and Daddy.”

Me:  “Well, we really like each other, we love each other, and wanted to always be together.” (wondering if that was the best way to explain marriage having never thought about it.)

Roc:  “We like each other.”

Me:  “Yes.  Roc, do you think you would like to get married someday?”

Roc:  “Yes.”

Me:  “When you are older you could get married like Mommy and Daddy got married.  Who do you think you want to marry?”

Roc:  “Mommy and Daddy.”

Me:  “Mommy and Daddy are already married to each other.  You can only marry one person.  You could marry a girl you really like to be around.  Are there any girls you really like to be around?”

Roc:  “I don’t know.”

Me:  “How about Miss P (special ed teacher in his kindergarten room) or Mrs. L?” (he cut me off as soon as he heard Miss P’s name)

Roc:  “Miss P.  I will marry Miss P.”

***

I feel like a broken record saying again that he is amazing me, that I didn’t know if he would get here, and yet – here he is.  I am beyond thrilled.

He is thinking.  He is understanding.  He is asking questions.  He is finding his own voice and expressing himself.  We are conversing.

We. Are. Conversing.

I will never tire of talking to this child.  That much I know.

]]> http://therocchronicles.wordpress.com/2009/11/16/from-the-mouth-of-babes/feed/ 11 therocchronicles http://therocchronicles.wordpress.com/2009/11/15/love-the-beach/ http://therocchronicles.wordpress.com/2009/11/15/love-the-beach/#comments Mon, 16 Nov 2009 04:38:21 +0000 therocchronicles http://therocchronicles.wordpress.com/?p=1522 ]]>

Yes, we went again today.

No, I won’t bore you with tons of pictures (I took 88 in 3 hours).

What?

You really want to see some since I haven’t updated my blog with anything since we went to the beach last weekend?

Okay…

I have 5 draft posts in my dashboard.  I promise I’ll get to posting at least one of them this week and stop boring you with pictures of the beach!

I’m an outdoor girl.  I grew up hiking, canoeing, and camping in Minnesota.  I would rather be outside than in, I hate feeling cooped up, and struggle to get through the winter every year.  I always hoped that I would have an outdoor child so I could pass on my love of the outdoors to them and see their delight at the things I experienced as a child.  When the Roc was a baby I took him outside whenever I could, even pushing him in the stroller when it was sunny and 38 degrees in January because I just couldn’t be stuck inside any longer.  He went on at least two walks a day when he was a baby.  I think all of my walking did him good because to my utter joy I have produced an outdoor boy.  He loves to be outside just as much as his mama.

Like most weekends, we didn’t have any plans and after the Roc had been fed on Saturday morning I wondered out loud if we should drive down to the beach.  The Roc was beyond excited and started in on us.  “Can we build a sandcastle?”  “I don’t like the waves!”  “We will take our clothes off!”  “Let’s go to the beach!!”  Those sentences were repeated over and over and over.  We had to remind him that it wasn’t summer and we were going to walk, not roll around in the sand, because it would be cool at the beach.  We drove down to Cape Henlopen State Park and the Roc really enjoyed walking on the beach,

picking up shells,

and he even got to build a sandcastle

while we stood by with our hands jammed in our pockets, that wind was cold and the blood had quickly drained out of my fingers.  We drove over to the nature center and tried to go for a hike on the nature trail but found it too muddy so we drove down to “the point” and walked a bit more, bribing the Roc with a lollipop.

I took a picture that I would have used for my Christmas card, if only he had been looking at the camera!!

(Which prompted me again to start lusting after a new SLR camera.)

We drove back down to the beach parking lot and loaded the Roc into his wagon so we could walk along the paved hiking/biking path.  As soon as the Roc saw all the pine needles he had to have  some and GC filled up the wagon giving him his very own “hay ride” which he thoroughly enjoyed.

We walked along the trail and stopped to climb up and enjoy the view.

On the way back to the car the Roc got to go for a ride down a big hill.  I could hear him laughing the whole way down.

We were worn out by the end of the day!

On Sunday we drove up to Brandywine Creek State Park and went for a walk in the woods.

GC picked up a big stick and then Roc had to have one of his own.  Like father, like son.  Or maybe it’s just a thing with boys and sticks?

Not long after the Roc decided that I needed to have a walking stick too.

Whatever makes him happy right?

He is most happy near water and insisted we stop to sit by the creek.

GC was happy he got to wear his Vibram shoes.

There was only a minimal amount of whining: “My legs don’t work” and “I’m hungry” and GC gave him a shoulder ride once, but all it did was reinforce my childhood memories.  I remember whining a little when I was his age, and apparently it never failed that I would ask “Is this a circle trail?” but the fresh air, the sounds of the forest, and the peace I felt while outdoors as a child still exists for me today.  I hope the Roc will look back on his childhood and have happy memories of the outdoors.

We spent the weekend outside.  What could be better than that?

It’s a given, no parent likes to see their child struggle, really struggle with something.  That is one of the hardest things to swallow about autism.  So many things are a tremendous struggle for the Roc.  Little things, simple things that other parents take for granted.  Opening baggies, zipping zippers, screwing and unscrewing caps, getting shoes and socks on, brushing teeth, cutting with a scissors, and writing are just some of the things the Roc struggles with in regards to fine motor skills.  In the past many of these things would immediately frustrate him and he would SCREAM and throw a raging fit.  As he has grown, so has his patience, (a teeny tiny amount, but I have to acknowledge it) and his verbal skills.  Now, while many of these things still frustrate him, he tries just a little bit longer (sometimes we even get “No, I wanna do it!”) or he asks for help (many times in a screech, but I’ll take it!)

As his mother it has been so hard to watch him struggle.  So hard not to compare him to my friend’s children who do almost everything with ease.  So hard not to want to change things somehow for him.  Help.  Fix it.  Do something.

Why does everything have to be so hard for my baby?

But that is what makes the little things that much sweeter.

I remember when I first gave the Roc a marker and a sheet of paper.  He concentrated hard, fisted that marker, and proceeded to fill the whole page with compact little squiggles.  I bought a couple sketch books and he alternated between filling the pages with dots, lines, the letter H, (for some reason only known to him) or those original scribbles.  I found it fascinating that he had the focus to continue page after page.  For awhile I saved that first paper, proud of the perseverance it took to evenly space out those squiggles.  Then the word autism pushed it’s way into our house, parked itself on my chest, and I saw those repetitive squiggles differently.  Repetition and perseveration.  Hallmark signs.  Desperately I tried to get the Roc to draw something different in his sketch book and to reverse his grip on that marker.  I pushed too hard and pushed him away from wanting to write or draw with me.  I had to take a step back.

He started preschool and at home I let him return to filling up his sketch books with squiggles, dots, lines, and the letter H.  I wondered when he would draw something, anything other than those repetitive images.  My mother (the former teacher) sent me a list of fine motor activities and the school OT sent home some suggestions as well.  I worked on them with him when he would allow, trying not to push him too far into frustration.

Over time I saw the slips coming home from the preschool OT start to change and rejoiced for the progress.

March 4, 2008

March 30, 2009

Eventually he started to reverse his grip at home and stopped fisting the marker.  Now in full day kindergarten he is required to do much more writing and has “homework” each week, one day of which is writing the sight words they are learning.  He still likes to scribble all over a page if you let him so I usually print the words lightly in pencil and give him a marker to trace over them with.

Earlier this week we were working on his “homework” and I asked him if he wanted to draw when he was done.  He was really enjoying the little marker his OT sent home (a crayola pip-squeak, perfect for those kids who want to hold the writing utensil at the top – can’t do that with a tiny marker!) and I asked him if he could draw a house.  I fully expected him to scribble all over the page but instead he looked at me, looked down at the page, and then drew this:

Holy smokes!!  I didn’t know he could do that!  He went on to draw two more but the first one is the one I saved and slapped up on the refrigerator.

Even if no one else really grasps the amount of time, repetition, and literally hours of work this kid has put in to be able to draw that little house, I know.  I get it.  And man am I proud of that little wonky house and the kid who drew it!

Last Thursday I felt quite recovered from my Mommy Meltdown that I wrote about it while the Roc was at school.  He had been home from school for a week and I was soooo very ready for him to go back and was relishing the quiet house, only the sloshing washer and cat growls could be heard as I sat at my desk writing about my Monday implosion.  It was to be my last bit of peace for at least 24 hours.

Earlier that morning the Roc’s breathing was a little tight, which didn’t surprise me because he had been fighting a cough and had needed help over the weekend to get his breathing under control, so I gave him a breathing treatment and sent him on his way eager to be alone.  I got a lot done that day, though I don’t remember what, (besides that blog post) and was slightly dismayed when the school nurse called me late in the afternoon.  She was only calling to inform me that the Roc had been coughing a lot in class so he was sent to her for another breathing treatment.  No big deal I thought.  He arrived home not long after and my heart dropped a bit to hear him wheezing.  I gave him another breathing treatment and when that did not alleviate his discomfort we headed over to Urgent Care.

Because we had been to Urgent Care the week before and the Roc had been put on steroids and breathing treatments the doctor took some x-rays of his chest (so not fun trying to get him to stand still for an x-ray!) which came back with clear lungs.  They did another breathing treatment but his oxygen level was still in the low 90s and she said she wasn’t comfortable with just giving him more steroids and sending us on our way.  She said we should head up to the Emergency Room at the Children’s Hospital.  A knot formed in my stomach as I loaded the Roc in the car.

We met GC at home and drove up to the hospital with the Roc talking and coughing the whole way.  He just LOVES to drive places in the dark and see all the lights and he wouldn’t stop talking!  The ER was crowded with people wearing masks and parents jiggling their crying children as I rushed up to the desk.  The one and only good thing about breathing issues is that no one messes around.  We were brought back to triage immediately and from there we had to wait less than 10 minutes (which felt like a lifetime) for them to find a bed for the Roc.  He was going downhill fast and was coughing and begging for help while we waited for them to find a place for him.  I stood at the desk holding the Roc and practically bored holes in the intake nurses head while he cried and pleaded “I need help” and then he threw up all over me and cried even harder.  Ack!

After we were ushered into a bay the Roc was put on oxygen and his eyes immediately rolled back in his head and he fell asleep.  His oxygen level was 88% when they first hooked him up but quickly went up to 95% on the O2.  We stayed there for a few hours while they gave him more oxygen and did back to back breathing treatments with another medicine.  He wasn’t able to maintain a good oxygen level and his breathing was so labored that he was admitted and moved to the second floor to start continuous albuterol treatment through the night.

By now it was around midnight and he was amped up on all those medications.  When the receiving team on the second floor got him into his bed he was just a wild thing.  He wouldn’t stop laughing and trying to get out of the bed to run around.  I had to climb in bed and hold him while they did their examination and hooked him up to the breathing apparatus.  I tried to settle him and eventually succeeded only for the doctor to wake him up!  GC left to get us some food and I got the Roc to fall back asleep.  We ate and then GC drove home and I spent the rest of the night at the foot of the Roc’s little hospital bed putting his mask back on and re-hooking the monitor to his thumb every 3-14 minutes (you bet I timed it, I couldn’t believe that I would literally close my eyes and then immediately have to open them to fight with him about the mask or monitor!)  Eventually around 5 am he slept for longer periods and I got about 45 minutes of sleep.

On Friday morning they were able to wean him off the continuous treatment and we worked toward getting him to go 4 hours without a treatment so we could take him home.  He was able to participate in the hospital trick-or-treating that morning and they even brought a little batman costume for him to wear, which he didn’t!  He was sleep deprived and easily overwhelmed so we only went to a few stations to gather Halloween trinkets before he said he was ready to go back to his room.  He took a little nap in the afternoon (so you know he was sleep deprived) and eventually he was released to go home around 5 pm.

It was a totally exhausting 24 hours.  For me and for the Roc (and GC too, but he wasn’t at the hospital overnight so our experiences there are a little different!)  One good thing that came out of it was that we didn’t have any trouble getting the Roc to take his medicine at home.  All we had to do was remind him that if he didn’t take it his breathing might get bad again and he would have to go back to the hospital.  Enough said.  He downed it like a champ each time.

***

Saturday was warm and rainy and we took it easy during the day, going out to buy some supplies for the puppy we will be bringing home in December.  We drove around a bit trying to kill time before the night’s festivities.  The Roc was bouncing off the walls excited to go trick-or-treating with his two friends down the street, it’s almost all he talked about that day.  He could hardly get through dinner fast enough.  When the first trick-or-treaters arrived while we were eating he was done and wanted to get out there.  Our neighbors appeared with their kids just as we got the Roc into costume.  Look at that grin!

We headed out the door and the Roc was jacked up like we’d already fed him a bunch of candy.  He kept running down the sidewalk and repeating phrases his friend said over and over again like “I’m going to ring THAT doorbell!!”  He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and didn’t seem to grasp the whole point of trick-or-treating.  I was starting to regret asking our neighbor if we could all go together because I knew that this could happen.  The Roc and Luke tend to really get each other going and they get really silly.  Luke has the ability to switch gears pretty quickly and calm down where the Roc does not.  I had to slow him down and make him walk with me and eventually he got himself under control and did a very nice job trick-or-treating after that.  At the end of the evening as we were nearing our house I nudged GC, pointed to the Roc, and said “Two years ago babe.”  He just shook his head and said “I know.”

There are many times that I watch the Roc and marvel at how he is doing the very things I worried that he might not be able to do.  Walking up the sidewalk toward a stranger, saying “trick-or-treat,” only taking one piece of candy, and saying “thank-you” before spinning around and coming back to us seemed an impossible feat two years ago.  But here he is surprising us and doing it, and most importantly enjoying it.  As soon as his friends were done, he was done and wanted to go inside.  The sky was starting to spit rain and we wanted to get back in to hand out some candy of our own before all the trick-or-treaters went home.  The Roc got to have his Halloween cupcake in exchange for his candy (wonder how long until he figures out that he’s not really getting a fair trade there?!) and he was happy.

Then he had one last surprise for us before the night was over.  He wanted to hand out candy to trick-or-treaters!!  That was a totally new request but we were happy to oblige him.

It didn’t last long – he was done after Harry Potter pictured above.

I am just hoping this week is quiet….it has been so far! (knocks on wood)

It has taken me a few days to be able to write about what happened on Monday.  I had a Mommy Meltdown.  I haven’t had one in awhile.  Four days later (and a child who finally went to school after a week of being home sick) has given me time to get back to normal, whatever that is.

The Roc has had a cough for a couple weeks and that morphed into breathing issues last week.  I started administering breathing treatments of Albuterol through his nebulizer and ended up laying awake in his bed on Thursday night wondering whether I should pack him up and head out to the ER, or to wait for medical aid to open in a few hours.  I opted not to expose him to the piggy sickies at the ER and we were the first patients at medical aid. (He coughed so hard on the way over he barfed all over himself.  Thank goodness I put him in a zip up hoodie and track pants as it was easy to clean him off before entering the building, the car seat was another story.  Ick.)  They gave him Prednisolone, another breathing treatment, and prescribed an antibiotic to try to help with junk that has been plugging him up.

Over the weekend he rested and took all these medications along with more breathing treatments to keep his breathing under control.  I don’t know if it was the Prednisolone, the antibiotic, the Albuterol, or all of these combined on top of being sick and not being able to breath, but his behavior spiraled out of control.  Even after his breathing got much better, he just went down hill behavior wise.  I chalked it up to all of the above and really tried to be understanding while he threw tantrum after tantrum, screamed at the littlest injustice, (water on his sock, oh no!) and fought me over everything.  Everything.

On Monday I was looking forward to sending him off to school and was dismayed to see his red, crusty eyes when he woke up.  Pink Eye.  I had to keep him home again and make another trip to the doctor.  I made an appointment with the regular family practice and tried to entertain the wild beast of my son until we could leave.  I was really starting to loose my footing in sanity land and chatted online with GC that he had to relieve me when he got home, I was going bonkers.  I was packing my bags to Crazytown, and unless he wanted me to move there permanently, he needed to take over when he got home.  The Roc was uber defiant in a way he hasn’t been in a long while.  He was hyper.  He did everything I told him not to.  He wouldn’t leave the door handles alone, and was repeatedly jiggling them and opening and slamming them closed.  He was screaming at our poor cats and scaring them into the basement.  He was following me around, poking me in the back and slobbering all over my hands.  He kept grabbing the phone, pushing lots of buttons and running away from me.  And more and more and more.  I could go on and on but am feeling a little sick at reliving what I have written so far.  The worst part of all of this was that he did all these things with a huge, devilish smirk on his face.  He was delighting in torturing me.  I eventually broke down crying and he laughed at me.  He.Laughed.At.Me.

He hadn’t done that in a long time.  I’ll never forget that one time after learning that the Roc had autism I completely lost it, slid down the wall, slumped over on my kitchen floor, and sobbed my heart out.  All the while the Roc danced around me laughing.  My being beside myself and crying did not affect him like it should.  He laughed and I cried harder in understanding for the first time the wide gulf that separated him from other children his age.  He should have been crying to see me cry so hard.  It should have affected him and it didn’t.  Over the last two years the Roc learned a lot about emotions and has come to a point where he doesn’t like to see me upset.  Not long ago he told me to “put your happy face on mommy” while we were stuck in a traffic jam and I was sighing loudly in the driver’s seat.  To have him laugh at my crying cut me just as deeply as it did the first time it happened.  It felt like he was regressing before my eyes.  I lost it.

I went into my bedroom, closed and locked the door, and screamed (causing cats to fly off my bed and cower in fear) my lungs out.  I laid on the floor, pounded my fists and kicked my legs like a 2-year old.  I cried like I hadn’t cried in a long time.  I was worn out from the weekend of worrying about him being able to breath and fear of him dying to literally wanting to run away and never come back.  I didn’t want to leave my room but the Roc was out of control on the other side of the door screaming his brains out and throwing whatever he could grab.  I wiped my face, tried to gather some semblance of clarity, and grabbed my purse.  We had to leave soon for the doctor’s office.  I calmly got the Roc’s shoes and coat on, helped him pick out a few books to read in the waiting room and we headed out the door.

This is when my Monday got even worse.  The Roc was a L.U.N.A.T.I.C at the doctors office.  Lunatic.  He tugged on me, on my purse and my hand while tried to sign him in.  He screamed at a women sitting where he wanted to sit.  He bounced around in his seat and wouldn’t concentrate on the book I tried to read to him.  Luckily we were called back very quickly and from there he picked up speed on his downhill slide.  He jumped up and down on the scale so she couldn’t get an accurate weight on him and then he took off running down the hall, barely missing an elderly woman with a cane.  When we got in the exam room he wouldn’t let the nurse near him and he wouldn’t stop barking at her.  My eyes had been pricking with tears in the waiting room and once the barking started I started crying and couldn’t stop.  I spluttered “I’m so sorry, he has autism” to the nurse and she said “It’s okay” without any emotion and immediately left the room.  I was gulping down sobs and trying to pull myself together when the doctor came in.  Again I apologized “I’m so sorry, I was crying LAST time I brought him to see you and here I am crying again.”  (Last time I brought him to this doctor was Dec 08 and he was a loon during that visit as well.  And I cried then too.  Sigh.  I don’t know if she actually remembered that visit, but I do!)  I bear hugged the wiggling Roc while she examined him and then prescribed some eye drops for the pink eye.  I did the ugly cry (You know, when your face contorts, your lips do that weird stretchy thing, you turn all blotchy red, your nose runs, and you can hardly talk? The ugly cry.  Definitely not pretty.) while telling her it was like watching him regress right before my very eyes and how terribly horrifying it was.  Really.Horrifying.  She was very sweet and asked me if I had a good support system, if I had anyone to take over for me and give me a break, and reassured me that what I was dealing with was HARD.  She also said that the steroid Prednisolone was a very powerful and much of his behavior was probably stemming from the medications and after they left his system he would right himself.  I tearfully thanked her and I dragged the Roc to the car.

Once in the car I called GC on my cell phone, laid across the steering wheel and sobbed out the whole experience to him.  (How fun for him right?)  His first question was “You’re not driving right now are you?”  God no.  By the time I got off the phone and picked my head up the cars parked on either side of me had driven away.  Makes me wonder what they thought seeing a woman sobbing over her steering wheel and a silent kid strapped into the back.  It did make me thankful for the amount of hair I have that I was able to hide behind.  I did pull myself together after that and the Roc and I muddled through the rest of the day.  He tantrumed and screamed and I counted the minutes until GC walked through the door.

I took a hot bath when he got home and used the Roc’s bubble bath titled “Overtired and Cranky” as I thought that was fitting.  I didn’t flinch once at the Roc’s screams as it was no longer my problem and it was then that I decided I was no longer going to feel guilty about being home all day while the Roc is in school.  I have EARNED this time.  I have definitely earned some time to breath.

What I did feel guilty about was the tantrum I threw in the Roc’s presence and how I had really fallen apart that day.  I wasn’t a good mom that day and I really felt bad about that.  It wasn’t until 2 days later, while talking to my mother-in-law, when she reminded me of an important fact that made me feel a bit better.  I was relaying this terrible day to her and how I felt about completely losing my cool and packing my bags to Crazytown when she said “Kim, you are only human.”

Oh yeah.

She’s right.

No one’s perfect.

Breath in.  Breath out.  Repeat.

Warning:  This is another post about poo.  If you are offended by this subject, don’t read any further.  You were warned!

Potty training the Roc has been an experience and definitely a test in one’s patience.  He has not been the easiest child to train, and definitely not the hardest, but he still is a lot of work in this department.  He peed in the potty for a few chocolate chips but it took much more to entice him to poo in the toilet.  We learned early on not to force the issue otherwise we (I) would have to deal with the consequence (pooy undies).  We tried bribing him with sweets, toys, an outing to his favorite Mexican restaurant, and none of those could entice him to “go.”  Last spring I was jolted with the realization that I could use the pool as his reinforcement for pooing in the toilet, and it worked! He has been successful ever since, but for some reason it is still a battle.  He will hold it, I swear as a form of control, and you cannot make another person “go.”  So what does an autism mommy do?  I schedule it.  It is now part of his nightly routine.  First eat veggies, then eat dinner, then eat fruit, then poo, then get dessert (if behavior during the day has warranted a treat), then take a bath (the ultimate reward).  Even though this nightly routine does not waver we still have the following conversation every.single.night.

Me:  “You’ve got to poo to get your dessert.”

Roc:  “I don’t wanna poo!”

Me:  “Roc, it’s what you do every night.  Do you want your cookie or should I eat it?”

Roc:  “No!  I want it!  Don’t eat it!”

This exchange may go on for an excruciating amount of time or he may fold early and head to the hall bathroom (because that is the only bathroom for poo, of course!).  Then the following takes place:

Roc:  “Mommy I poo’d!”

Me:  “Okay, I’ll come in and check.  Oh buddy, that’s not enough.  You need to push more out.”

Roc:  “AAAHHHRRRGGGHHHHHAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!!!  No!  it’s enough!  I’m DONE”  I want a cookie now!”

Me:  “No, it’s not enough.  Sit down and go more.”

Roc:  “No!”  He runs out into the kitchen with his pants around his ankles.  (Of course our shades are open and someone either drives or walks by the house.)

Me:  “Roc get BACK in that bathroom, sit on that toilet, and poo!”

Roc:  “AHHRRGGGGHHH!”  He forcefully pulls the door shut and bangs his fists on the wall.

One grunt and 15 seconds later:

Roc:  “Mommy I poo’d!  It is a was a huge one!  That’s the biggest poo I’ve ever seen!  Mommy, can you come and check please.”

Me:  “Yup, good job dude.”

Roc:  “I want a cookie now.”

Every. Single. Night…

I’m hoping there will come a day we don’t have to put poo on the schedule, a day that we don’t have a nightly fight about poo, a day where he will just go when he has to go.

(Oh, and wipe himself too, but I’m not going into that right now!)

The weather was nice this past week and I was feeling both useless and restless, as I have been lately.  The Roc has settled into his routine and I’m trying to figure out what to do with myself while he is at school.  I don’t feel that I’m contributing as much to the family now that my “work” leaves the building for 6 hours a day and have just been itching for…something.

Anyway, last Monday I was pacing around the house and decided that I just had to get outside and enjoy the weather, but I didn’t want to do it alone.  I had the urge to walk a dog.  It was a beautiful fall day and I just wanted to enjoy it with someone (and none of my 4 cats would enjoy a walk on a leash).  So I called my friend down the street who has 3 children age 4 and under and also possesses a big brindle pit bull mix who I’ve never, in the 5 years we’ve lived near each other, seen walked.  I asked her and she said I could walk Tigger anytime.  Now, Tigger is a sweet dog, but he really doesn’t walk well on a lease.  He pulled and yanked me around, and when he saw a squirrel?  Forget about it.  It wasn’t the relaxing walk I was hoping for but at least I did something nice for my friend and for Tigger.

On Wednesday my other neighbor called me from work asking if I would mind going into her house and taking her little 4-month dachshund puppy outside.  He didn’t do his business before she left for work and she was worried that he would soil his crate and/or be uncomfortable all day.  I jumped at the chance to walk another dog on another gorgeous fall day.  I was pretty sure a little 4-month wiener dog wasn’t going to be pulling me around!  He was very excited to see me and donned his collar and leash with ease, until we got outside.  I wasn’t having too much luck getting him to walk on the leash so I carried him down the street to another neighbors house who has two chihuahuas who love to go for walks.  The puppy quickly got the hang of walking after seeing the two chihuahuas on their leashes.  He had a great time after that I fully enjoyed myself.

GC happened to be working from home that day so I bought the little puppy in the house under the pretense of “seeing what the cats would do” (they puffed themselves up like raccoons).  After 30 minutes had passed GC came out on the landing again and saw me sitting in the foyer with the puppy sleeping in my lap.  He groaned, shook his head and said: “You want a dog now, don’t you?!”  I sheepishly smiled and shrugged my shoulders.  He groaned again and walked back into his office.  30 seconds later he came back out and said: “We used to talk about getting a Boston Terrier when we lived in New Jersey.  I wonder how the cats would feel about a dog in the house?  I wonder if the Roc would like a dog?”

My mouth dropped open!  I didn’t think he would even consider getting a dog!

That night we had the following conversation with the Roc.

Me:  “Roc, would you like to get a dog?” (totally thinking he would say no because he has in the past)

Roc:  “Yes, we could have cats and a dog.”

Me:  “Should we get a big dog or a little dog?”

Roc:  “A little one.”

Me:  “What color dog should we get?”

Roc:  “A black one.”

Me:  “Would it be okay if it was black with a little bit of white like Sasha?”  (one of our tuxedo cats)

Roc:  “Yes, black with a little bit of white.”

Not really sure if he understood what “getting a dog” meant we went on to show him some pictures of Boston Terriers and talked about what it would mean to have a dog in the house.  He still said he wanted a dog!

On Friday GC sent me an email with a link to Boston Terrier breeders with pictures of puppies and I replied:  “OMG!  You’re killing me!  I think we’ve found our Christmas present to each other….”  That night we talked about it more and started looking for nearby breeders.  On Saturday went to Borders and got a book on the breed and did some more research that night.

On Sunday morning GC called a breeder in Pennsylvania and she told him she had a brand new litter, only 5 days old, and we could come and see them that day if we wanted.  We drove up after lunch.  After talking to the breeder and her husband and meeting the parents we put a deposit down on one of the male puppies!

The Roc did really well while we were there and we were shocked to see the time when we drove away.  He had stood with us for just over and hour while we looked at the dogs and talked to the breeder.  He did repeatedly put his hand up my shirt, but we were worried he would have a tantrum or at least scream while we were there, so I didn’t worry to much about it.  He was a little confused by the fact that we didn’t bring home a dog that day and we tried to explain that our puppy won’t be ready to come home for 7 – 8 more weeks.

When we were leaving GC shook his head and said:  “I can’t believe that just happened.”  To which I replied:  “What did you think?  We would go look at puppies and I wouldn’t want one?!”  I had known that I would have to act fast when he started talking about a dog.  I didn’t want to give him too much time to change his mind!

He glanced at me and said:  “Merry Christmas.”

I think it will be!

(Oh, and the Roc said we should name the puppy Buggles)