What luck! My sitter woke up vomitting yesterday morning!
Oh, I'm really not that cruel. I'm not happy that our beloved L was sick yesterday. But I had an unexpected day off, just me and my youngest. It was fun.
L didn't call to tell me she was sick until 8 am. We were already dressed and ready to go, and I had a staff meeting at work, so I brought Thomas in with me and asked our student workers to watch him (I knew they wouldn't mind). He was a good boy, and of course I like to show him off to my co-workers.
Then we went to the library. I always feel guilty about comparing, but it was really refreshing to go to the library with Tommy. I usually go with his "bubba", and we have a pretty strict routine we follow: only visit certain areas of the library and in a certain order. If I try to introduce a book from outside the usual subjects, it's met with disgust, at least 8 times out of 10.
Tommy, on the other hand, would just pull a random book off the shelf and ask me to read it! What fun! The books are coded with stickers to indicate holiday subject matter (an orange witch for Halloween), so we picked out quite a few cute Halloween books.
Then we went to lunch at a restaurant! A casual family sandwich place, but a step up from McDonald's. More fun! Tommy had dino-bites (chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs) and fries, I had a tuna salad sandwich and fries. I was trying to eavesdrop on the table behind us, and I think Tommy could tell, because he said "what those people is talking about?" He's so smart.
All went well until we took a potty break. Then another potty break. Then a third potty break. I realized that perhaps he was finished eating and was becoming enamored of the walk to the bathroom and the whole routine of flushing, washing hands, etc. It all goes painfully slowly because he wants to DO IT ALL HIMSELF.
On the way home he fell asleep, and I was able to lounge on the couch and watch CNN. Still more fun!
Henry was really surprised to have us meet him when he got off the bus. He said "I got back on the bus, and when I got home, you and Tommy were there!!" (When he got off the bus Thomas yelled "surprise!")
I realized that I make an effort to do things with just Henry sometimes, but almost never worry about one-on-one time with Tommy. I will have to do that more often- it was really special.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Monday, August 28, 2006
Sorry about that last post- I was truly feeling sorry for myself, and doubting myself because I had done something stupid. When I'm feeling that way, every little stupid thing like taking out the trash seems to weigh on me. Anyway, thanks for the pity party.
Oh, and my boss gave me a Starbucks gift card on Friday for "staff appreciation week"- perfect timing, eh? I'll not be without my non-fat latte for the next few weeks, at least.
We had a nice weekend. Bill's office had their company "picnic" at a bowling alley this year. We tried to prepare for the worst, hope for the best. And we were pleasantly surprised with a fun afternoon. When we first got there we were initially waylaid by the video arcade, and I was concerned that one of us would have to stand in there with Henry while the others bowled. But I had a hunch that Henry would enjoy watching the bowling, if we could get him away from the video games, and I turned out to be right. He did his excited, running-in-place, hand-flapping, humming happy dance and cheered for each person as they bowled.
Tommy was totally into it, and would grab his 7-lb bowling ball and walk right up to the lane when it was his turn! We had bumpers and a ramp to assist the kids with actually getting the ball down the lane. (I've been noticing something lately: as Tommy's development and physical growth catch up to Henry, it's as if they are closer in age than they really are. It's pretty cool, and gives me hope that they will continue to grow into playmates. But it makes me wonder also, how long until Thomas passes Henry by?)
After bowling, we were invited back to a co-worker's house. This, also, went surprisingly well. There were 2 other first-graders there, and I had a couple of those moments when you're punched in the gut by how "un-typical" your child is. But they weren't really like punches in the gut this time, more like a tap on the shoulder. I would notice it and then shrug and move on.
The mutual interest in Star Wars was enough to give the kids a little common ground. Henry stayed in the house and looked at the resident boy's books, calendars and movies. He then requested to watch The Return of the Jedi.
I also think my frame of mind helped make the evening comfortable. I used to feel uncomfortable that my kid wanted to stay in and watch a movie, while all the other kids were playing ball outside. But as we have grown accustomed to having a child with an ASD, and as our family, friends and co-workers become accustomed to the idea, it now just feels easy to say "Hey, is it all right if Henry looks through your movies? That's something he enjoys doing." And no one seems to bat an eye.
I don't want to let autism be an excuse that allows Henry to be held to different standards, but it just feels nice to not have to try to cover it up either.
I should add that this is the first time we've gotten together with these friends in over a year. We really don't socialize very much. So that's why I am so happy about how it went. And it probably went so well precisely because we don't do it very often. If we tried to make Henry hang out at someone else's house until way past his bedtime every Saturday night, it would not go so smoothly.
One aspect of the evening did make me a little uneasy (aside from the fact that I drank too much wine): I talked quite a bit with a woman who has an 18-month-old son. (They didn't bring the boy with them.) She asked me a lot of questions about Tommy's development, and Henry's, and lots of questions about autism. It became clear that she is concerned about her son's development. But all I really sifted out of the discussion was that he doesn't speak in sentences (but does have some speech) and they feel he is inordinately preoccupied with watching Sesame Street.
Have any of you ever been in that situation? Where a parent is asking you for advice about their child? I am more than comfortable telling people about Henry and my own situation, but felt very unsure what to tell this woman. I found myself saying "lots of children his age are preoccupied with Sesame Street, I don't think that's unusual." Lots of people said things like that to me when Henry was small, and that was not at all what I needed to hear. Without even seeing this child, I am hesitant to recommend that she have him evaluated. But I also don't want to put off her concerns, because we all know that the mommy instinct is a good one.
I'd be interested to know what some of you would tell this woman. Her husband works with Bill, so I'll be able to ask him to pass some information along to her if appropriate.
Oh, and my boss gave me a Starbucks gift card on Friday for "staff appreciation week"- perfect timing, eh? I'll not be without my non-fat latte for the next few weeks, at least.
We had a nice weekend. Bill's office had their company "picnic" at a bowling alley this year. We tried to prepare for the worst, hope for the best. And we were pleasantly surprised with a fun afternoon. When we first got there we were initially waylaid by the video arcade, and I was concerned that one of us would have to stand in there with Henry while the others bowled. But I had a hunch that Henry would enjoy watching the bowling, if we could get him away from the video games, and I turned out to be right. He did his excited, running-in-place, hand-flapping, humming happy dance and cheered for each person as they bowled.
Tommy was totally into it, and would grab his 7-lb bowling ball and walk right up to the lane when it was his turn! We had bumpers and a ramp to assist the kids with actually getting the ball down the lane. (I've been noticing something lately: as Tommy's development and physical growth catch up to Henry, it's as if they are closer in age than they really are. It's pretty cool, and gives me hope that they will continue to grow into playmates. But it makes me wonder also, how long until Thomas passes Henry by?)
After bowling, we were invited back to a co-worker's house. This, also, went surprisingly well. There were 2 other first-graders there, and I had a couple of those moments when you're punched in the gut by how "un-typical" your child is. But they weren't really like punches in the gut this time, more like a tap on the shoulder. I would notice it and then shrug and move on.
The mutual interest in Star Wars was enough to give the kids a little common ground. Henry stayed in the house and looked at the resident boy's books, calendars and movies. He then requested to watch The Return of the Jedi.
I also think my frame of mind helped make the evening comfortable. I used to feel uncomfortable that my kid wanted to stay in and watch a movie, while all the other kids were playing ball outside. But as we have grown accustomed to having a child with an ASD, and as our family, friends and co-workers become accustomed to the idea, it now just feels easy to say "Hey, is it all right if Henry looks through your movies? That's something he enjoys doing." And no one seems to bat an eye.
I don't want to let autism be an excuse that allows Henry to be held to different standards, but it just feels nice to not have to try to cover it up either.
I should add that this is the first time we've gotten together with these friends in over a year. We really don't socialize very much. So that's why I am so happy about how it went. And it probably went so well precisely because we don't do it very often. If we tried to make Henry hang out at someone else's house until way past his bedtime every Saturday night, it would not go so smoothly.
One aspect of the evening did make me a little uneasy (aside from the fact that I drank too much wine): I talked quite a bit with a woman who has an 18-month-old son. (They didn't bring the boy with them.) She asked me a lot of questions about Tommy's development, and Henry's, and lots of questions about autism. It became clear that she is concerned about her son's development. But all I really sifted out of the discussion was that he doesn't speak in sentences (but does have some speech) and they feel he is inordinately preoccupied with watching Sesame Street.
Have any of you ever been in that situation? Where a parent is asking you for advice about their child? I am more than comfortable telling people about Henry and my own situation, but felt very unsure what to tell this woman. I found myself saying "lots of children his age are preoccupied with Sesame Street, I don't think that's unusual." Lots of people said things like that to me when Henry was small, and that was not at all what I needed to hear. Without even seeing this child, I am hesitant to recommend that she have him evaluated. But I also don't want to put off her concerns, because we all know that the mommy instinct is a good one.
I'd be interested to know what some of you would tell this woman. Her husband works with Bill, so I'll be able to ask him to pass some information along to her if appropriate.
Friday, August 25, 2006
elements of an identity crisis (or at least a pity party)
My mom has this friend from college named Sandy. Sandy has 4 kids, mom has 3, and they are both always really busy. Sandy and mom have both always been dingbats - with a large love for life and lots of interests and activities, and still always finding time to talk on the phone for hours.
Once, several years ago, mom went to visit Sandy. I forget the circumstances exactly, but somehow mom and Sandy sat in Sandy's house talking ALL night, while Sandy's car was left running out in the driveway. I believe they were frightened by it when they finally noticed a running car out in front of the house late at night. Oh, we all loved that story! Those 2 kooky ladies- how could you do something like that? What a couple of dingbats!
Last night, after work, Thomas and I stopped at the grocery store. We meandered up and down the aisles, and ran into an old friend from my days working at the daycare (she just dropped her oldest son off to start college, and looked like she might cry when she saw Tommy holding a box of oatmeal creme pies and said "I left Alex with a box of oatmeal creme pies.")
My family called me no less than 4 times on the cell phone, to make grocery requests.
When I reached the cashier, I couldn't find my keys, to hand her my "advantage card". Uh oh, I thought, I must have left the keys in the car or, worse yet, lost them.
(You see where I'm going with this, don't you...)
As Thomas and I walked out to the parking lot, I caught sight of the minivan. When we got closer, I realized, to my horror, that IT WAS STILL RUNNING. What the hell?
Who's the dingbat now?
I wish I could say that was the worst event of the evening.
Thomas was delighted to discover a spray bottle of sunscreen in the backseat. "Mommy, tan I put on some sunscreen? Betause I-I-I will get a sunburn." I half-heartedly tried to talk him out of it: "it's getting to be nighttime. The sun isn't going to be out much longer, and I don't think you'll get sunburned."
"YES, I wiiill!"
OK, whatever. I was still reeling, trying to figure out how I had gotten me, my purse, and Thomas out of the car, grabbed a cart, and walked into the store, all without noticing that the van was still running.
So halfway home, Thomas (of course, why didn't I see this coming?) gets sunscreen in his eyes and starts screaming. By this point he had it ALL OVER his hands and face, and now was frantically rubbing his eyes- just making it all worse.
By the time I called Bill AGAIN, to tell him to be prepared for a screaming child who would need an immediate bath, I think he was ready to pack up the rest of the family and leave us two brainiacs to fend for ourselves for awhile.
No- actually he took pity on me, and when The Office came on at 8:30, he offered Kate $10 if she would get the boys ready for bed, so that we could watch one of our favorite shows together! (Kate would have done it for free, but since he offered the money, she wasn't going to turn it down.)
That was nice. But still, once I got in bed, my mind starting running... We were having a rough night, so the boys went to bed later than usual, and Tommy had eaten a tootsie pop for dinner, so wasn't sleepy (sugar buzz). "Great" I thought. "Now it will be hard to get them up in the morning, and our whole day will start off badly."
They actually got up ok. But if I think too much about the series of events that make up my morning, I get such a discouraged feeling:
Get up, go downstairs. House smells like trash. Tie up garbage bag and put out on back porch. Henry doesn't have any clean underwear: do a load of laundry. Spend too long typing in my blog- hurry up and hop in the shower. Boys wake up, get out their clothes and my clothes. Pack Henry's lunch, label miscellaneous school supplies, fill in missing phone number on emergency form. Get boys dressed, drive Kate to school, stopping at Starbucks on the way (for Kate and Henry- I had made coffee at home). Come back home, wait for the bus. Take bag of trash out to the trash cans. They are filled with rain water, so dump out yucky rain water first. The whole while Henry is shrieking "I don't want to go to school, I don't want to get on the bus." Bus arrives. Literally drag Henry to the bus, finally carrying him. He starts crying real tears and saying he doesn't want to go to school. Half of me feels sad for him, other half wants to say "tough. Every kid has to go to school. Get over it."
When I got to L's house to drop of Thomas, and told her about the past 14 hours, she said "well, where are the Timbits?" She always jokes that she can tell if I'm having a bad morning, because I show up at her house with Timbits for the kids.
But, you know, I'm on this goddamn diet.
Once, several years ago, mom went to visit Sandy. I forget the circumstances exactly, but somehow mom and Sandy sat in Sandy's house talking ALL night, while Sandy's car was left running out in the driveway. I believe they were frightened by it when they finally noticed a running car out in front of the house late at night. Oh, we all loved that story! Those 2 kooky ladies- how could you do something like that? What a couple of dingbats!
Last night, after work, Thomas and I stopped at the grocery store. We meandered up and down the aisles, and ran into an old friend from my days working at the daycare (she just dropped her oldest son off to start college, and looked like she might cry when she saw Tommy holding a box of oatmeal creme pies and said "I left Alex with a box of oatmeal creme pies.")
My family called me no less than 4 times on the cell phone, to make grocery requests.
When I reached the cashier, I couldn't find my keys, to hand her my "advantage card". Uh oh, I thought, I must have left the keys in the car or, worse yet, lost them.
(You see where I'm going with this, don't you...)
As Thomas and I walked out to the parking lot, I caught sight of the minivan. When we got closer, I realized, to my horror, that IT WAS STILL RUNNING. What the hell?
Who's the dingbat now?
I wish I could say that was the worst event of the evening.
Thomas was delighted to discover a spray bottle of sunscreen in the backseat. "Mommy, tan I put on some sunscreen? Betause I-I-I will get a sunburn." I half-heartedly tried to talk him out of it: "it's getting to be nighttime. The sun isn't going to be out much longer, and I don't think you'll get sunburned."
"YES, I wiiill!"
OK, whatever. I was still reeling, trying to figure out how I had gotten me, my purse, and Thomas out of the car, grabbed a cart, and walked into the store, all without noticing that the van was still running.
So halfway home, Thomas (of course, why didn't I see this coming?) gets sunscreen in his eyes and starts screaming. By this point he had it ALL OVER his hands and face, and now was frantically rubbing his eyes- just making it all worse.
By the time I called Bill AGAIN, to tell him to be prepared for a screaming child who would need an immediate bath, I think he was ready to pack up the rest of the family and leave us two brainiacs to fend for ourselves for awhile.
No- actually he took pity on me, and when The Office came on at 8:30, he offered Kate $10 if she would get the boys ready for bed, so that we could watch one of our favorite shows together! (Kate would have done it for free, but since he offered the money, she wasn't going to turn it down.)
That was nice. But still, once I got in bed, my mind starting running... We were having a rough night, so the boys went to bed later than usual, and Tommy had eaten a tootsie pop for dinner, so wasn't sleepy (sugar buzz). "Great" I thought. "Now it will be hard to get them up in the morning, and our whole day will start off badly."
They actually got up ok. But if I think too much about the series of events that make up my morning, I get such a discouraged feeling:
Get up, go downstairs. House smells like trash. Tie up garbage bag and put out on back porch. Henry doesn't have any clean underwear: do a load of laundry. Spend too long typing in my blog- hurry up and hop in the shower. Boys wake up, get out their clothes and my clothes. Pack Henry's lunch, label miscellaneous school supplies, fill in missing phone number on emergency form. Get boys dressed, drive Kate to school, stopping at Starbucks on the way (for Kate and Henry- I had made coffee at home). Come back home, wait for the bus. Take bag of trash out to the trash cans. They are filled with rain water, so dump out yucky rain water first. The whole while Henry is shrieking "I don't want to go to school, I don't want to get on the bus." Bus arrives. Literally drag Henry to the bus, finally carrying him. He starts crying real tears and saying he doesn't want to go to school. Half of me feels sad for him, other half wants to say "tough. Every kid has to go to school. Get over it."
When I got to L's house to drop of Thomas, and told her about the past 14 hours, she said "well, where are the Timbits?" She always jokes that she can tell if I'm having a bad morning, because I show up at her house with Timbits for the kids.
But, you know, I'm on this goddamn diet.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
first grade and the day before
(I am so, so sorry, but I don't have any pictures to illustrate this post. Trying to share my teenager's digital camera isn't working out so well, and I think I will need to put one on my birthday & Christmas lists this year. I did take pictures with the regular camera, of course, but will have to post those later.)
Yesterday I took the day off to spend with Henry and Kate before school started. Kate was up-and-at-'em for some reason, so we had dropped Tommy off and purchased school supplies at Target, all before 9:30 am. After that, I suggested Henry and I walk to the library. We haven't walked in awhile, and it was a completely perfect day.
Once in awhile I get these bursts of mommy energy, combined with mommy guilt. I feel like every other autism mom is constantly vigilant, constantly finding opportunities to teach her child, constantly stretching his boundaries and exploring new talents, while I'm just reading my kid the same old Disney stories and letting him play on the computer.
So, in those moments, I get these big ideas like "let's learn to ride your bike!"
We have this teeny tiny bike that is really more Tommy-sized than Henry-sized. I pushed him on it for about a block, encouraging him to "pedal, pedal, pedal!" And trying not to sound frustrated when, every 10 feet or so, he back pedaled- putting on the brakes while I was trying to push.
After the first block, we parked the bike, and walked the remaining 3 blocks. Henry spontaneously read road signs and seemed excited that he had "rided" his bike. Our time at the library was delightful. We even read a couple non-Disney books. On the way home, as we approached the waiting bike, he started proclaiming "I don't want to ride my bike I don't want to ride my bike!" At this point, I was willing to admit defeat, and just said "I don't care- don't ride it then. I'll just carry it."
He hopped right on. The little s--t.
We struggled home on the bike until I was sweaty and near the breaking point. We went inside and my savior Kate gave Henry some lunch while I took a shower.
The thing that discourages me so much is that he just doesn't get how to ride a bike. I realize that we all have to work on that skill. But most kids on a bike with training wheels can pick up the pedaling motion pretty quickly. It's just not intuitive for Henry. And most kids, once they get the motion, have the instinct to want to do it on their own, and to do it fast. Henry seems like he'd be perfectly happy to have me push him forever.
So it occurs to me to just give up and just never teach him to ride a bike.
But then I look at all the other things he's learned to do and I know that I can't give up. He can do it, and once he learns how, he will feel prouder than any other new bike rider has before him. But it's just so hard, and sometimes (lots of times) I just want things to be easy. For both of us.
_________
That afternoon, we visited Henry's teacher and classroom. She had sent him a letter over the weekend:
Dear Henry,
My name is Miss C, and I will be one of your teachers this year.
Tuesday is the first day of school for our class. Our school is Highland Elementary.* It is a fun school. Our room number is XXXX.
We have a great playground and library.** We will have a fun time and learn lots of new things.
Miss J and Miss B are also teachers in our room. They are very nice. You will do some things in our room and spend other time in a bigger 1st grade class.
I can't wait to meet you and start school!
Your teacher,
Miss C
*again, not the real name of his school.
**I mentioned on the phone that the library is one of his favorite spots.
So I was feeling positive. By the end of the visit I felt even better. Although they anticipate a couple more kids, right now there are only 3 students in his class. And one of the boys is a friend from his class last year! A really sweet, quiet boy, with a cute old-fashioned-type name like Henry's.
Henry found some (too easy for him) puzzles, and some Disney books on the shelf. After that, I think he felt right at home.
Even though our district is small enough that it doesn't have bus service, the special ed kids get picked up in a school bus (a regular-sized one, not a short bus). So that was an added excitement this morning. I didn't have time to get weepy- I needed to snap some pictures and make sure that Thomas didn't run out in the street. Henry took along an arsenal of his favorite things: the binder full of print-outs, the Lady and the Tramp DVD box, and the insert from the Lady and the Tramp CD we borrowed from the library.
From all accounts it sounds like he had a "super good" day today. I wonder if he will object to going tomorrow? I'll let you know.
And I think I will ask his teachers and therapists to work on riding a bike. I am not equipped with the knowledge or the stamina to do this stuff alone.
Yesterday I took the day off to spend with Henry and Kate before school started. Kate was up-and-at-'em for some reason, so we had dropped Tommy off and purchased school supplies at Target, all before 9:30 am. After that, I suggested Henry and I walk to the library. We haven't walked in awhile, and it was a completely perfect day.
Once in awhile I get these bursts of mommy energy, combined with mommy guilt. I feel like every other autism mom is constantly vigilant, constantly finding opportunities to teach her child, constantly stretching his boundaries and exploring new talents, while I'm just reading my kid the same old Disney stories and letting him play on the computer.
So, in those moments, I get these big ideas like "let's learn to ride your bike!"
We have this teeny tiny bike that is really more Tommy-sized than Henry-sized. I pushed him on it for about a block, encouraging him to "pedal, pedal, pedal!" And trying not to sound frustrated when, every 10 feet or so, he back pedaled- putting on the brakes while I was trying to push.
After the first block, we parked the bike, and walked the remaining 3 blocks. Henry spontaneously read road signs and seemed excited that he had "rided" his bike. Our time at the library was delightful. We even read a couple non-Disney books. On the way home, as we approached the waiting bike, he started proclaiming "I don't want to ride my bike I don't want to ride my bike!" At this point, I was willing to admit defeat, and just said "I don't care- don't ride it then. I'll just carry it."
He hopped right on. The little s--t.
We struggled home on the bike until I was sweaty and near the breaking point. We went inside and my savior Kate gave Henry some lunch while I took a shower.
The thing that discourages me so much is that he just doesn't get how to ride a bike. I realize that we all have to work on that skill. But most kids on a bike with training wheels can pick up the pedaling motion pretty quickly. It's just not intuitive for Henry. And most kids, once they get the motion, have the instinct to want to do it on their own, and to do it fast. Henry seems like he'd be perfectly happy to have me push him forever.
So it occurs to me to just give up and just never teach him to ride a bike.
But then I look at all the other things he's learned to do and I know that I can't give up. He can do it, and once he learns how, he will feel prouder than any other new bike rider has before him. But it's just so hard, and sometimes (lots of times) I just want things to be easy. For both of us.
_________
That afternoon, we visited Henry's teacher and classroom. She had sent him a letter over the weekend:
Dear Henry,
My name is Miss C, and I will be one of your teachers this year.
Tuesday is the first day of school for our class. Our school is Highland Elementary.* It is a fun school. Our room number is XXXX.
We have a great playground and library.** We will have a fun time and learn lots of new things.
Miss J and Miss B are also teachers in our room. They are very nice. You will do some things in our room and spend other time in a bigger 1st grade class.
I can't wait to meet you and start school!
Your teacher,
Miss C
*again, not the real name of his school.
**I mentioned on the phone that the library is one of his favorite spots.
So I was feeling positive. By the end of the visit I felt even better. Although they anticipate a couple more kids, right now there are only 3 students in his class. And one of the boys is a friend from his class last year! A really sweet, quiet boy, with a cute old-fashioned-type name like Henry's.
Henry found some (too easy for him) puzzles, and some Disney books on the shelf. After that, I think he felt right at home.
Even though our district is small enough that it doesn't have bus service, the special ed kids get picked up in a school bus (a regular-sized one, not a short bus). So that was an added excitement this morning. I didn't have time to get weepy- I needed to snap some pictures and make sure that Thomas didn't run out in the street. Henry took along an arsenal of his favorite things: the binder full of print-outs, the Lady and the Tramp DVD box, and the insert from the Lady and the Tramp CD we borrowed from the library.
From all accounts it sounds like he had a "super good" day today. I wonder if he will object to going tomorrow? I'll let you know.
And I think I will ask his teachers and therapists to work on riding a bike. I am not equipped with the knowledge or the stamina to do this stuff alone.
Friday, August 18, 2006
milestones
Henry's birthday is coming. His summer program is coming to an end. A new school year is ready to begin. All these moments to mark this place in time in my memory.
Tuesday Henry had his annual eye exam at 3. It was his class' day to swim in the Easter Seals indoor pool, from 1:15 to 2:15. I arrived around 2, shushing the teachers, so Henry wouldn't notice I was there, and watched him swim a little. Getting the kids dried off and back into their clothes seems to take up about half of the swim hour. I talked with Henry's teachers as they dried off each shivering skinny kid, and I had the opportunity to ask some of the kids their names. I noticed one boy hopping and flapping his hands excitedly in a Henry-esque way.
Henry was the last child out of the pool, and I thought back to 2 summers ago, when he would have been crying and holding on to a teacher for dear life, or just staying on the steps. Then I thought back to last summer, when he spent a good deal of time being separated from the other kids because aggression seemed to be the only form of communication he trusted.
All of a sudden, he is one of the big boys. One of the kids who gets to mess around with Mr. Chris, the cool swimming instructor, and stay in the pool longer than the rest. He has spent much of this summer being Ms. S's helper- making bulletin boards and getting lunches from the kitchen. Ms. S told me that she works at Home Depot on the weekends. They have kid projects from time to time, and she brought one in for the kids to work on: a pencil box. "Henry's been telling me that he made me a pencil box!" I said. But I didn't realize that he had made it using a hammer and nails!! I wouldn't have imagined that!
At the eye doctor, I was again astounded by, and so proud of, my sons. Each one sat in the chair, named the letters and pictures (Tommy doesn't know his letters yet), looked through the "machine that looks like a viewmaster", even let the doctor put the dilating drops in their eyes. They were perfect the entire time, except at the beginning of Thomas' exam: the doctor would say "Tommy, what am I pointing to?" and Henry would shout out the answer "a duck!"
I thought back to what a struggle last year's exam had been. Sigh. This is better. Things have improved. For all of us. The summer has flown by with hardly a behavioral blip. Henry actually made friends in the summer program. He and his brother are almost maybe starting to be friends. Thomas is using the potty almost all the time. Kate and I aren't yelling at each other all the time. Wow- it has been a pretty good year (knock on wood).
Today I approached my boss about altering my work hours. Henry will be picked up for school at 8:10. I am supposed to be at work at 8, and while I am consistently about 20 minutes late anyway, I think that being a whole hour late requires some discussion.
I looked into the before-care program at his school, but it is actually housed at a different elementary school. So I would have to drop Henry off at one location, to hang out with a group of kids for half an hour, then he would be transported on a bus to his school. This is unacceptable to me.
So I can't think of another option but to change my hours at work: either work 9-5:30 with a half hour for lunch instead of an hour, or officially change my work status to 90% time (which would of course incur a 10% pay cut.)
And I haven't forgotten the weird tag- I'm working on it. Have a great weekend everyone.
Tuesday Henry had his annual eye exam at 3. It was his class' day to swim in the Easter Seals indoor pool, from 1:15 to 2:15. I arrived around 2, shushing the teachers, so Henry wouldn't notice I was there, and watched him swim a little. Getting the kids dried off and back into their clothes seems to take up about half of the swim hour. I talked with Henry's teachers as they dried off each shivering skinny kid, and I had the opportunity to ask some of the kids their names. I noticed one boy hopping and flapping his hands excitedly in a Henry-esque way.
Henry was the last child out of the pool, and I thought back to 2 summers ago, when he would have been crying and holding on to a teacher for dear life, or just staying on the steps. Then I thought back to last summer, when he spent a good deal of time being separated from the other kids because aggression seemed to be the only form of communication he trusted.
All of a sudden, he is one of the big boys. One of the kids who gets to mess around with Mr. Chris, the cool swimming instructor, and stay in the pool longer than the rest. He has spent much of this summer being Ms. S's helper- making bulletin boards and getting lunches from the kitchen. Ms. S told me that she works at Home Depot on the weekends. They have kid projects from time to time, and she brought one in for the kids to work on: a pencil box. "Henry's been telling me that he made me a pencil box!" I said. But I didn't realize that he had made it using a hammer and nails!! I wouldn't have imagined that!
At the eye doctor, I was again astounded by, and so proud of, my sons. Each one sat in the chair, named the letters and pictures (Tommy doesn't know his letters yet), looked through the "machine that looks like a viewmaster", even let the doctor put the dilating drops in their eyes. They were perfect the entire time, except at the beginning of Thomas' exam: the doctor would say "Tommy, what am I pointing to?" and Henry would shout out the answer "a duck!"
I thought back to what a struggle last year's exam had been. Sigh. This is better. Things have improved. For all of us. The summer has flown by with hardly a behavioral blip. Henry actually made friends in the summer program. He and his brother are almost maybe starting to be friends. Thomas is using the potty almost all the time. Kate and I aren't yelling at each other all the time. Wow- it has been a pretty good year (knock on wood).
Today I approached my boss about altering my work hours. Henry will be picked up for school at 8:10. I am supposed to be at work at 8, and while I am consistently about 20 minutes late anyway, I think that being a whole hour late requires some discussion.
I looked into the before-care program at his school, but it is actually housed at a different elementary school. So I would have to drop Henry off at one location, to hang out with a group of kids for half an hour, then he would be transported on a bus to his school. This is unacceptable to me.
So I can't think of another option but to change my hours at work: either work 9-5:30 with a half hour for lunch instead of an hour, or officially change my work status to 90% time (which would of course incur a 10% pay cut.)
And I haven't forgotten the weird tag- I'm working on it. Have a great weekend everyone.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Yesterday I e-mailed the Director of Special Education in our district:
Hi XXXXXXX,
I'm not sure if you would know the answers to these questions, but I don't know who else to ask...
Do you know if the STACK classroom will be having an open house before school starts? It is only a few days away, and I've not heard anything from Henry's teacher. We received the letter from (county organization) giving us her name and confirming that Henry will be attending Highland*, etc.
But I've been expecting to get a letter from the teacher, letting us know what he'll need in the way of school supplies, and when we can come in to check out the room. That's important for any kid before school starts, but especially our autism spectrum kids!
Henry seems excited about first grade, and he is familiar with Highland's playground, but I don't think we've been inside the building since those initial speech and PT evaluations, years ago.
Thanks for your help, and let me know if I should be shooting these questions to someone in (The county organization).
-Gretchen
*Highland is not the real name of his school. That's actually the name of the elementary school I attended.
Well, whad'ya know, guess who called me last night? Henry's teacher. She was kind of loud and disorganized. Partway through the conversation she yelled "I'm on the phone!" to someone, presumably one of her kids. She explained that she just moved here, and will be getting a tour of the school today (Thursday). First she said that she would be sending me a letter today, about visiting the school on Monday (school starts on Tuesday). Later in the conversation she said that she would call me today about setting up a time to come in on Monday.
I am really trying hard to not jump to conclusions here, but I didn't get the warmest, fuzziest, most confident feeling about this new teacher. But I keep telling myself: There are all different kinds of personalities, and they can all be great teachers. Ms. H was not the only good teacher Henry will ever have. Also, there will be 2 aides in the classroom and I'm sure they will be wonderful.
I'm just uneasy, and will be for the next couple weeks until this is all a known, rather than an unknown.
I can tell that Henry is feeling uneasy also, and I need to make a conscious effort to spend more time with him. He has been talking in his sleep a lot, and I can't think of a more tactful way to say this, so I'll just say it- he has pooped in his pants several times over the past week. I can only imagine that he is
a.) responding somehow to Thomas' potty training (which is going great, by the way)
and/or
b.) this is how Henry is revealing his worry about the coming school year.
Last night I spent a little extra time reading and snuggling with him- that will, no doubt, be beneficial to both of us.
___________
One other thing on my mind today:
May JonBenet and her mommy finally rest in peace. I cannot read anymore of this story.
Hi XXXXXXX,
I'm not sure if you would know the answers to these questions, but I don't know who else to ask...
Do you know if the STACK classroom will be having an open house before school starts? It is only a few days away, and I've not heard anything from Henry's teacher. We received the letter from (county organization) giving us her name and confirming that Henry will be attending Highland*, etc.
But I've been expecting to get a letter from the teacher, letting us know what he'll need in the way of school supplies, and when we can come in to check out the room. That's important for any kid before school starts, but especially our autism spectrum kids!
Henry seems excited about first grade, and he is familiar with Highland's playground, but I don't think we've been inside the building since those initial speech and PT evaluations, years ago.
Thanks for your help, and let me know if I should be shooting these questions to someone in (The county organization).
-Gretchen
*Highland is not the real name of his school. That's actually the name of the elementary school I attended.
Well, whad'ya know, guess who called me last night? Henry's teacher. She was kind of loud and disorganized. Partway through the conversation she yelled "I'm on the phone!" to someone, presumably one of her kids. She explained that she just moved here, and will be getting a tour of the school today (Thursday). First she said that she would be sending me a letter today, about visiting the school on Monday (school starts on Tuesday). Later in the conversation she said that she would call me today about setting up a time to come in on Monday.
I am really trying hard to not jump to conclusions here, but I didn't get the warmest, fuzziest, most confident feeling about this new teacher. But I keep telling myself: There are all different kinds of personalities, and they can all be great teachers. Ms. H was not the only good teacher Henry will ever have. Also, there will be 2 aides in the classroom and I'm sure they will be wonderful.
I'm just uneasy, and will be for the next couple weeks until this is all a known, rather than an unknown.
I can tell that Henry is feeling uneasy also, and I need to make a conscious effort to spend more time with him. He has been talking in his sleep a lot, and I can't think of a more tactful way to say this, so I'll just say it- he has pooped in his pants several times over the past week. I can only imagine that he is
a.) responding somehow to Thomas' potty training (which is going great, by the way)
and/or
b.) this is how Henry is revealing his worry about the coming school year.
Last night I spent a little extra time reading and snuggling with him- that will, no doubt, be beneficial to both of us.
___________
One other thing on my mind today:
May JonBenet and her mommy finally rest in peace. I cannot read anymore of this story.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
the state fair
Henry: It's finally August 12th!
Thomas: We is doin' to the fair with dranpa and dranma and me and my big brudder and my mommy.
Henry and I have a special tradition of going to the fair every year. He has always loved farm animals, probably due to my unconscious training. I love farm animals too. My dad grew up on a farm, so I suppose that is why I have this soft spot for agricultural stuff. And I love to have my dad come along to the fair- he always teaches us something new. I hope this will be something my kids will always remember.
We had planned to go yesterday, because a cousin from a different part of the state was going to be receiving an award for her Severe Weather Poster design! And yesterday's weather cooperated to make it a perfect day.
When we finally got into the parking area (after sitting in quite a bit of traffic, but the boys were very patient), we caught a ride to the front gate on a wagon, pulled by a tractor. How cool was that? You can tell by the boys' faces:
And Henry, milking a cow:
A shift out of the usual routine came when we went across to the other side of the fair to see my cousin and her family. This upset Henry a bit, and he did a lot of loud disagreeing. It also required crossing the midway again, and Henry caught sight of some of the Disney-type prizes available as prizes for the games.
I really try to keep him in the dark about anything at the fair aside from the agricultural stuff. If we had to go and ride the rides and play the games and mill about with all the crowds eating funnel cakes, I wouldn't do it.
After some lunch and some strawberry ice cream, Henry's mood was back on track. We checked out the tent where newborn babies were on display- some lambs, chicks, ducklings, and a calf that was just trying to stand up! I think if we had arrived a few minutes earlier, we would have seen it being born!! While I might have found that interesting, it probably would have scarred my children for life, so just as well that we missed it.
While trying to duck out of the crowds, I led us into the building where a horse show was going on. As we walked around the perimeter, past the concession stands, Henry heard the organ music coming out of the arena, and requested to go in. OK, why not?
So we caught just the last set of the competition- (I don't know anything about horses, so don't know what to call this type of riding) individual horses, pulling small wooden wagons. The announcer would instruct them to run at different gaits, then stop, then go backwards! At the point when the riders had stopped, and all was quiet, Henry shouted out "they won the game!" Pretty funny. Then, when the horses were lined up at the end, Henry shrieked "the black horse won!"
He ended up being correct: the black horse did win first place. But there were only 2 horses in this competition, so he had a 50/50 chance of being correct.
It was comforting to see that we could add a new activity to the day with pleasant result. Of course, it was all Henry's idea. I'm sure if grandma, grandpa, or I (or God forbid, his brother) had suggested watching the horse show, Henry would have not gone so willingly.
When it was time to leave, of course Henry didn't want to. That's when Grandma pulled something out of her bag of tricks: "Henry, I have a new puzzle for you back at your house. A Cinderella movie poster puzzle." After hearing that, Henry couldn't get out of the fair fast enough!
I have to post this last picture, even though I try not to post anyone's picture without asking their permission:
My dad is such a good sport. On the way out of the fair, Henry was tired, and riding in Thomas' stroller. So dad carried Tommy on his shoulders. Then I had the bright idea of buying the boys frozen fruit bars to eat. Thomas carried his happily, but didn't eat any of it. Instead, he let it melt down onto Grandpa's head and shoulder. Before I grabbed it from him and threw it away, I made them pose for a picture so I would always remember.
Mom and dad even bought me a souvenir: a t-shirt from the John Deere licensed products booth that says "farmer's daughter" with the John Deere logo. When it comes to the fair, I guess I'll never grow up! (Here's the John Deere website, but the shirt I got isn't pictured there.)
Thomas: We is doin' to the fair with dranpa and dranma and me and my big brudder and my mommy.
Henry and I have a special tradition of going to the fair every year. He has always loved farm animals, probably due to my unconscious training. I love farm animals too. My dad grew up on a farm, so I suppose that is why I have this soft spot for agricultural stuff. And I love to have my dad come along to the fair- he always teaches us something new. I hope this will be something my kids will always remember.
We had planned to go yesterday, because a cousin from a different part of the state was going to be receiving an award for her Severe Weather Poster design! And yesterday's weather cooperated to make it a perfect day.
When we finally got into the parking area (after sitting in quite a bit of traffic, but the boys were very patient), we caught a ride to the front gate on a wagon, pulled by a tractor. How cool was that? You can tell by the boys' faces:
(Tommy is wearing Grandma's hat!)
When we got inside, we quickly veered off the midway, and headed for the animal barns. Here are grandpa and Thomas admiring some beautiful cows:
And Henry, milking a cow:
A shift out of the usual routine came when we went across to the other side of the fair to see my cousin and her family. This upset Henry a bit, and he did a lot of loud disagreeing. It also required crossing the midway again, and Henry caught sight of some of the Disney-type prizes available as prizes for the games. I really try to keep him in the dark about anything at the fair aside from the agricultural stuff. If we had to go and ride the rides and play the games and mill about with all the crowds eating funnel cakes, I wouldn't do it.
After some lunch and some strawberry ice cream, Henry's mood was back on track. We checked out the tent where newborn babies were on display- some lambs, chicks, ducklings, and a calf that was just trying to stand up! I think if we had arrived a few minutes earlier, we would have seen it being born!! While I might have found that interesting, it probably would have scarred my children for life, so just as well that we missed it.
While trying to duck out of the crowds, I led us into the building where a horse show was going on. As we walked around the perimeter, past the concession stands, Henry heard the organ music coming out of the arena, and requested to go in. OK, why not?
So we caught just the last set of the competition- (I don't know anything about horses, so don't know what to call this type of riding) individual horses, pulling small wooden wagons. The announcer would instruct them to run at different gaits, then stop, then go backwards! At the point when the riders had stopped, and all was quiet, Henry shouted out "they won the game!" Pretty funny. Then, when the horses were lined up at the end, Henry shrieked "the black horse won!"
He ended up being correct: the black horse did win first place. But there were only 2 horses in this competition, so he had a 50/50 chance of being correct.
It was comforting to see that we could add a new activity to the day with pleasant result. Of course, it was all Henry's idea. I'm sure if grandma, grandpa, or I (or God forbid, his brother) had suggested watching the horse show, Henry would have not gone so willingly.When it was time to leave, of course Henry didn't want to. That's when Grandma pulled something out of her bag of tricks: "Henry, I have a new puzzle for you back at your house. A Cinderella movie poster puzzle." After hearing that, Henry couldn't get out of the fair fast enough!
I have to post this last picture, even though I try not to post anyone's picture without asking their permission:
My dad is such a good sport. On the way out of the fair, Henry was tired, and riding in Thomas' stroller. So dad carried Tommy on his shoulders. Then I had the bright idea of buying the boys frozen fruit bars to eat. Thomas carried his happily, but didn't eat any of it. Instead, he let it melt down onto Grandpa's head and shoulder. Before I grabbed it from him and threw it away, I made them pose for a picture so I would always remember.Mom and dad even bought me a souvenir: a t-shirt from the John Deere licensed products booth that says "farmer's daughter" with the John Deere logo. When it comes to the fair, I guess I'll never grow up! (Here's the John Deere website, but the shirt I got isn't pictured there.)
Thursday, August 10, 2006
the letdown
Once again, I've been cocky. Thomas had a rough day with the potty stuff yesterday. 2 accidents (of the poopy variety) at his sitter's, and then I think 3 accidents at home last night, in the span of 1 1/2 hours.
I really hate potty training. I feel like every inch of our house will soon be covered with pee-pee. Shiiiver. Yuck.
Tommy started crying every time he had an accident, but I think it was because he knew we would then make him sit on the potty some more, not because he felt bad for having an accident. One time, he was sitting on his brother's bed, so then we had to take all the bedding off and wash it. I tried to get Thomas to assist me in throwing the dirty stuff down the laundry chute, but he defiantly refused. So then, on top of all the potty issues, I punished him for "not listening", and took away his saber. Yes, it was a grim night.
Tommy also awoke during the night, crying. That hasn't happened for quite awhile. He won't communicate at those times, so I never know if he has had a bad dream, or if something is hurting him... He didn't have a fever, wasn't drooling as if it were his teeth. He seemed to be squirming as if his legs were hurting, so I tried rubbing them. When I got to his left foot, he relaxed, yawned, and fell back asleep. Do you think he is having growing pains or something?
I am also feeling sorry for myself because I have been keeping up with my new exercise regimen pretty faithfully for 2 months now, but my clothes are getting tighter than ever. I was living in this fantasy world where all you have to do is start exercising 1/2 hour several times a week and you quickly become a supermodel. Oh, you mean I need to also not eat everything that occurs to me? Who knew? I really hate dieting and potty training.
_________
Let's talk about vacation again. Christine brought up a good question after my last post: "did Henry show the same preference for staying inside when you were on vacation?"
No. Not nearly as much. I think it has to do with his expectation of "how things should be." In Michigan, you go outside to swim, sail, watch the boats go down the river, etc. At home, you stay inside to do puzzles, read books, watch movies.
Here is Bill carrying Henry home "like a sack of potatoes" after swimming. Henry didn't want to come back in.
And there's not as much appealing stuff to do outside at home. The outside stuff here (sandbox, roller skating, playgrounds) doesn't tickle his fancy the same way. There was a playground up in Michigan, which Tommy enjoyed, but Henry never played on it.
When we were inside on vacation, it was often hard to get him to leave. We had brought some puzzles and books, and the story tapes, after all...
But maybe we just forced the issue more, because there were special things we all wanted to do.
I really hate potty training. I feel like every inch of our house will soon be covered with pee-pee. Shiiiver. Yuck.
Tommy started crying every time he had an accident, but I think it was because he knew we would then make him sit on the potty some more, not because he felt bad for having an accident. One time, he was sitting on his brother's bed, so then we had to take all the bedding off and wash it. I tried to get Thomas to assist me in throwing the dirty stuff down the laundry chute, but he defiantly refused. So then, on top of all the potty issues, I punished him for "not listening", and took away his saber. Yes, it was a grim night.
Tommy also awoke during the night, crying. That hasn't happened for quite awhile. He won't communicate at those times, so I never know if he has had a bad dream, or if something is hurting him... He didn't have a fever, wasn't drooling as if it were his teeth. He seemed to be squirming as if his legs were hurting, so I tried rubbing them. When I got to his left foot, he relaxed, yawned, and fell back asleep. Do you think he is having growing pains or something?
I am also feeling sorry for myself because I have been keeping up with my new exercise regimen pretty faithfully for 2 months now, but my clothes are getting tighter than ever. I was living in this fantasy world where all you have to do is start exercising 1/2 hour several times a week and you quickly become a supermodel. Oh, you mean I need to also not eat everything that occurs to me? Who knew? I really hate dieting and potty training.
_________
Let's talk about vacation again. Christine brought up a good question after my last post: "did Henry show the same preference for staying inside when you were on vacation?"
No. Not nearly as much. I think it has to do with his expectation of "how things should be." In Michigan, you go outside to swim, sail, watch the boats go down the river, etc. At home, you stay inside to do puzzles, read books, watch movies.
Here is Bill carrying Henry home "like a sack of potatoes" after swimming. Henry didn't want to come back in.
And there's not as much appealing stuff to do outside at home. The outside stuff here (sandbox, roller skating, playgrounds) doesn't tickle his fancy the same way. There was a playground up in Michigan, which Tommy enjoyed, but Henry never played on it.
When we were inside on vacation, it was often hard to get him to leave. We had brought some puzzles and books, and the story tapes, after all...But maybe we just forced the issue more, because there were special things we all wanted to do.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
happy stuff and weird stuff
Tomatoes are one of Henry's favorite foods. So earlier this summer I thought it would be fun to plant our own, and maybe discover something to make Henry enjoy going outside a little more. We started small with our vegetable garden: just 2 cherry tomato plants in plastic pots.
(In our early days together, Bill and I naively planted a vegetable garden that quickly got out of control. Although he maintains a beautiful yard full of flowers and plants, we have stayed away from vegetables ever since.)
Here is Henry, picking a few tomatoes to enjoy with his dinner:
The first time I told him the tomatoes were ready and he could pick one, he said "I need some help please." That is almost always his response, before even trying something. I had to talk him into trying it himself, and then of course the tomato just easily fell right off the vine into his hand. He was so excited.
See the papers in his hand? Those are pages he printed off the Disney website. We could build an addition to our home with those things, there are so many lying around.
______
Thomas is doing great with his potty training! I was totally lazy over the weekend, and didn't even try it. But when I woke him up Monday morning, I sat him on the potty, put him in underpants, and told him that if he used the potty all week, I would take him to the store and he could pick out a toy.
He went on to pee on the dining room chair while eating his breakfast. But after that, he had a great day at L's house, with NO ACCIDENTS! I was so excited and proud that evening that I took him to Target and bought him a toy! Yes, completely defeating the purpose of the bribe. I don't care. Henry didn't use the potty 'til age 4, so I am just beside myself at the thought that we might be done with diapers forever at age 2 1/2!
Thomas even used the potty at Target after our shopping. The toy he picked out was a Power Rangers sword (made out of foam), with a scabbard to clip on to his pants (or underpants, as the case may be):
Have you seen Chicken Little? It is a favorite at our house, and we especially love the music. I play it in the mornings to wake the boys up. Patti LaBelle and Joss Stone get things started, and by the time the Barenaked Ladies come on, we are all dancing and singing. Isn't it great when a kids' movie can keep the adults entertained as well, viewing after viewing? This soundtrack even has Henry liking REM (one song at least, maybe I can turn him on to some others), and you would melt into a puddle if you heard Henry singing along to the Five for Fighting song. And then he quotes Chicken Little from that scene in the movie: "c'mon- all I need is a chance!"
______
I told mom-nos that I post about plenty of my own weirdness on this site every day. But I did think of a couple additional random weird things about me:
- I never finish a cup of coffee. I love coffee, but must just drink too slowly. A size small (or tall) is too small for me- I always order a medium (or grande). But then I never, ever, finish it. Sometimes I even re-heat it and drink some more, but there is just always a bit left in the bottom of the cup.
- I am compulsive about the laundry. We tried having the teenager do her own laundry to avoid some stress, but I couldn't handle it. I have to sort it, examine it, re-wash it if it is still smelly or stain treat it and soak it if it is stained. This takes an inordinate amount of my time, time that could be better spent cleaning other areas of my house! (I am not nearly compulsive enough about other chores.)
- I have several scars on my arm from around age 5 or 6. I was standing outside the front storm door, my toddler brother was standing inside, and we were both banging on the glass. My left arm went through the window, leaving several long cuts. What a nightmare for my mom- can you imagine??!!
The thing about these scars is, I bet people notice them and wonder if I've tried to slit my wrists?! My co-workers and other acquaintances might be imagining all kinds of drama in my past, when really, it's just evidence of playing with my little brother.
That's all the weirdness for now- I'm sure there will be more to come.
(In our early days together, Bill and I naively planted a vegetable garden that quickly got out of control. Although he maintains a beautiful yard full of flowers and plants, we have stayed away from vegetables ever since.)
Here is Henry, picking a few tomatoes to enjoy with his dinner:
The first time I told him the tomatoes were ready and he could pick one, he said "I need some help please." That is almost always his response, before even trying something. I had to talk him into trying it himself, and then of course the tomato just easily fell right off the vine into his hand. He was so excited.
See the papers in his hand? Those are pages he printed off the Disney website. We could build an addition to our home with those things, there are so many lying around.
______
Thomas is doing great with his potty training! I was totally lazy over the weekend, and didn't even try it. But when I woke him up Monday morning, I sat him on the potty, put him in underpants, and told him that if he used the potty all week, I would take him to the store and he could pick out a toy.
He went on to pee on the dining room chair while eating his breakfast. But after that, he had a great day at L's house, with NO ACCIDENTS! I was so excited and proud that evening that I took him to Target and bought him a toy! Yes, completely defeating the purpose of the bribe. I don't care. Henry didn't use the potty 'til age 4, so I am just beside myself at the thought that we might be done with diapers forever at age 2 1/2!
Thomas even used the potty at Target after our shopping. The toy he picked out was a Power Rangers sword (made out of foam), with a scabbard to clip on to his pants (or underpants, as the case may be):
Have you seen Chicken Little? It is a favorite at our house, and we especially love the music. I play it in the mornings to wake the boys up. Patti LaBelle and Joss Stone get things started, and by the time the Barenaked Ladies come on, we are all dancing and singing. Isn't it great when a kids' movie can keep the adults entertained as well, viewing after viewing? This soundtrack even has Henry liking REM (one song at least, maybe I can turn him on to some others), and you would melt into a puddle if you heard Henry singing along to the Five for Fighting song. And then he quotes Chicken Little from that scene in the movie: "c'mon- all I need is a chance!"
______
I told mom-nos that I post about plenty of my own weirdness on this site every day. But I did think of a couple additional random weird things about me:
- I never finish a cup of coffee. I love coffee, but must just drink too slowly. A size small (or tall) is too small for me- I always order a medium (or grande). But then I never, ever, finish it. Sometimes I even re-heat it and drink some more, but there is just always a bit left in the bottom of the cup.
- I am compulsive about the laundry. We tried having the teenager do her own laundry to avoid some stress, but I couldn't handle it. I have to sort it, examine it, re-wash it if it is still smelly or stain treat it and soak it if it is stained. This takes an inordinate amount of my time, time that could be better spent cleaning other areas of my house! (I am not nearly compulsive enough about other chores.)
- I have several scars on my arm from around age 5 or 6. I was standing outside the front storm door, my toddler brother was standing inside, and we were both banging on the glass. My left arm went through the window, leaving several long cuts. What a nightmare for my mom- can you imagine??!!
The thing about these scars is, I bet people notice them and wonder if I've tried to slit my wrists?! My co-workers and other acquaintances might be imagining all kinds of drama in my past, when really, it's just evidence of playing with my little brother.
That's all the weirdness for now- I'm sure there will be more to come.
Monday, August 07, 2006
Our weekend had some ups and downs. Sometimes lately, I get cocky and think "Henry used to have all those behaviors, but he's doing so much better now- he's making great strides." And he is- he is. But then the day comes that we do something unusual, like picking up an uncle at the airport, and Henry reverts back to his house-on-fire voice and his insistent and overpowering manner, and I think that maybe we haven't come so far after all.
My brother-in-law was in town briefly yesterday. We headed out to the airport to meet him and wandered around. The confusion was my fault- instead of just saying we would drive by the passenger loading/unloading area, I said that we would park and all come in to the airport. I consistently make this mistake. I always think "boys like airports- this will be fun." And I always forget that it's confusing and crowded and both boys like to ride escalators*, and you can't even see any airplanes anyway, now that unticketed folks are not allowed beyond the security check.
(*I have a weird little escalator phobia- I have recurring dreams where I need to get on an escalator going down, but it's going really, really, really fast and it's hard to step on and hard to hold on... I obviously have done a good job of hiding this fear, because my kids love to ride the escalator!)
Henry kept shouting that he wanted to ride the escalator: repeating it non-stop in the house-on-fire voice. We rode it a couple of times, and then the boys and I just gave up and went back to wait by the car.
Once Bill found Uncle J., we all headed for breakfast at Bob Evans. As soon as he walked in the door, Henry spotted a Strawberry Supreme Pie in the display case. He pressed his face and sweaty hand to the glass and shouted "I want this pie! I want this pie! I want this pie!"
Why so much shouting? And why so much anxiety? You know, now that I think about it, I did not prep him ahead of time on the plan. Maybe if I had told him a few days ahead of time, this would not have all been so exciting and overwhelming. Duh. I know this stuff, but then I forget it. Or I think it's not necessary for a little Sunday morning trip to the airport.
On Saturday, Henry and I went to the library. There was a girl there, a few years older than Henry, who was reading aloud to her mom. She seemed to really struggle- one of those kids who reads
so
slowly
that
it's
hard
to
follow
what
she's
saying. Her mom was being kind of short with her, and correcting her in a gruff way, even when her mistake was something as simple as saying "of" instead of "off". I felt sorry for this girl, to be spending her Saturday afternoon in such an unpleasant way, and to be struggling so much with her reading. I hoped that she would grow to enjoy reading in spite of that.
At the same time, Henry was quietly reading aloud from the front cover of the Star Wars book on tape. "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... Luke Skywalker had returned home to Tatooine..."
Yes, most of that was memorization, but it still gave me a lift. What a blessing- Henry has his share of difficulties, but I'm so glad that reading isn't one of them!
My brother-in-law was in town briefly yesterday. We headed out to the airport to meet him and wandered around. The confusion was my fault- instead of just saying we would drive by the passenger loading/unloading area, I said that we would park and all come in to the airport. I consistently make this mistake. I always think "boys like airports- this will be fun." And I always forget that it's confusing and crowded and both boys like to ride escalators*, and you can't even see any airplanes anyway, now that unticketed folks are not allowed beyond the security check.
(*I have a weird little escalator phobia- I have recurring dreams where I need to get on an escalator going down, but it's going really, really, really fast and it's hard to step on and hard to hold on... I obviously have done a good job of hiding this fear, because my kids love to ride the escalator!)
Henry kept shouting that he wanted to ride the escalator: repeating it non-stop in the house-on-fire voice. We rode it a couple of times, and then the boys and I just gave up and went back to wait by the car.
Once Bill found Uncle J., we all headed for breakfast at Bob Evans. As soon as he walked in the door, Henry spotted a Strawberry Supreme Pie in the display case. He pressed his face and sweaty hand to the glass and shouted "I want this pie! I want this pie! I want this pie!"
Why so much shouting? And why so much anxiety? You know, now that I think about it, I did not prep him ahead of time on the plan. Maybe if I had told him a few days ahead of time, this would not have all been so exciting and overwhelming. Duh. I know this stuff, but then I forget it. Or I think it's not necessary for a little Sunday morning trip to the airport.
On Saturday, Henry and I went to the library. There was a girl there, a few years older than Henry, who was reading aloud to her mom. She seemed to really struggle- one of those kids who reads
so
slowly
that
it's
hard
to
follow
what
she's
saying. Her mom was being kind of short with her, and correcting her in a gruff way, even when her mistake was something as simple as saying "of" instead of "off". I felt sorry for this girl, to be spending her Saturday afternoon in such an unpleasant way, and to be struggling so much with her reading. I hoped that she would grow to enjoy reading in spite of that.
At the same time, Henry was quietly reading aloud from the front cover of the Star Wars book on tape. "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... Luke Skywalker had returned home to Tatooine..."
Yes, most of that was memorization, but it still gave me a lift. What a blessing- Henry has his share of difficulties, but I'm so glad that reading isn't one of them!
emotional rescue (another song on dad's MP3)
I just finished a book that I can't get out of my head: The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger (one of your suggestions for my vacation reading). I started the book on vacation, then lost interest partway through, then picked it up again over the weekend and finished it. It's a good book, with a clever premise, but there are some things I wish the author would have explored more- I wanted to know some more about the characters, and I guess I just like everything tied up in a neat little bow at the end.
The thing is, it wasn't my favorite book ever, but yet I still keep thinking about it. Maybe this is why I don't read more books- I get obsessive about them. Why can't I just read a good book in a casual way? It's like I have to get totally immersed in it- to the point where I'm bawling at the end when a certain thing happens that we already knew was going to happen.
(I could tell this thing was going to happen about halfway through, and that's part of why I stopped reading for a little while. It's kind of like when we watched rented Titanic years ago- I got mad halfway through and went to bed: "why am I even caring about these characters? We know the ship is going to sink and they're all going to die anyway!")
I was equally perseverative after reading the Harry Potter books. I started surfing all those goofy Harry Potter sites, and reading all the essays that the HP geeks post on their theories. Get a life, Gretchen. Finish the book, put it on your shelf, and move on!
Sometimes I wonder if I have an over-active emotion gene, which causes me to invest myself a little too much? Kristin wrote awhile back about being "too sensitive." I commented then that "I cry every time there's a baptism at church. I'd call that sensitive. Or 'in touch with my emotions'. I wish I could control it better sometimes, but it's who I am."
Here's another example: my boss' wife passed away from cancer almost 3 years ago. Her illness was quick, and our small office was privy to just about every detail, every emotion, that my boss was feeling. It was pretty awful, to say the least. This past spring, he got re-married. The last time I had seen most of the wedding guests had been at his first wife's funeral, and some of them had been very close friends of hers.
The wedding was lovely, but I felt completely drained by the end of the night. Bill and I talked about it the next day, and decided that maybe this event was especially emotionally draining for me, because I was thinking about so much other stuff: his first wife, her funeral, how her friends must be feeling, how I would be feeling if it were me, what my husband would do if I were to die... ugh. It was like I couldn't shift gears- the last time I saw these people was at a horribly sad event. Now, we're at a terrifically happy event! Screeech! I wish I could just turn my emotions down a click for awhile and enjoy the party.
Last week one of the DJs on the sunshine-y morning radio program had a baby. As I listened to the other DJs talk to her on the phone, I suddenly felt my lip start to quiver. "What the hell?!" I thought. People have babies EVERY DAY. Why does someone talking about having a baby (albeit at the same hospital where I had my sons) make me cry???
But, as she was talking, I think I was subconsciously picturing myself in that hospital bed, holding a tiny, wiggly, squeaky baby, feeling exhilarated and frightened and proud and stunned all at the same time.
I don't want to turn off my emotions- they are what make me feel alive, and make me appreciate all the beauty in my life. I just don't want to be a slave to them!
The thing is, it wasn't my favorite book ever, but yet I still keep thinking about it. Maybe this is why I don't read more books- I get obsessive about them. Why can't I just read a good book in a casual way? It's like I have to get totally immersed in it- to the point where I'm bawling at the end when a certain thing happens that we already knew was going to happen.
(I could tell this thing was going to happen about halfway through, and that's part of why I stopped reading for a little while. It's kind of like when we watched rented Titanic years ago- I got mad halfway through and went to bed: "why am I even caring about these characters? We know the ship is going to sink and they're all going to die anyway!")
I was equally perseverative after reading the Harry Potter books. I started surfing all those goofy Harry Potter sites, and reading all the essays that the HP geeks post on their theories. Get a life, Gretchen. Finish the book, put it on your shelf, and move on!
Sometimes I wonder if I have an over-active emotion gene, which causes me to invest myself a little too much? Kristin wrote awhile back about being "too sensitive." I commented then that "I cry every time there's a baptism at church. I'd call that sensitive. Or 'in touch with my emotions'. I wish I could control it better sometimes, but it's who I am."
Here's another example: my boss' wife passed away from cancer almost 3 years ago. Her illness was quick, and our small office was privy to just about every detail, every emotion, that my boss was feeling. It was pretty awful, to say the least. This past spring, he got re-married. The last time I had seen most of the wedding guests had been at his first wife's funeral, and some of them had been very close friends of hers.
The wedding was lovely, but I felt completely drained by the end of the night. Bill and I talked about it the next day, and decided that maybe this event was especially emotionally draining for me, because I was thinking about so much other stuff: his first wife, her funeral, how her friends must be feeling, how I would be feeling if it were me, what my husband would do if I were to die... ugh. It was like I couldn't shift gears- the last time I saw these people was at a horribly sad event. Now, we're at a terrifically happy event! Screeech! I wish I could just turn my emotions down a click for awhile and enjoy the party.
Last week one of the DJs on the sunshine-y morning radio program had a baby. As I listened to the other DJs talk to her on the phone, I suddenly felt my lip start to quiver. "What the hell?!" I thought. People have babies EVERY DAY. Why does someone talking about having a baby (albeit at the same hospital where I had my sons) make me cry???
But, as she was talking, I think I was subconsciously picturing myself in that hospital bed, holding a tiny, wiggly, squeaky baby, feeling exhilarated and frightened and proud and stunned all at the same time.
I don't want to turn off my emotions- they are what make me feel alive, and make me appreciate all the beauty in my life. I just don't want to be a slave to them!
Thursday, August 03, 2006
#100, just boring old stuff
Was yesterday a full moon? Because it was a weird day. First, the head of Henry's "summer camp" program at Easter Seals called to tell me that Henry had gotten bonked in the face. I guess another child in the program likes to mess around with the naptime cots, stacked in the corner. Henry was sitting on the floor, reading a book, when this child swung a cot around and hit Henry right in the nose!!! His nose bled a little, and now he has an ugly bruise across the bridge of his nose, where his glasses smashed into his face. Glad we paid a little extra for the flexible-frame glasses, because they are fine- just his face is hurt :-(
Then Bill called a couple hours later to tell me that they were locked out of the house, and could I come home early? It's not like they could just hang out in the yard, with it being so sweltering outside.
Bill had a bad day at work, and some of my friends reported weird goings-on in their lives. Either it was a full moon or the heat is starting to scramble everyone's brainwaves.
We are going to try to "get serious" about Thomas's potty training. He definitely has the language and the knowledge of what's happening. He also has older friends at the sitter who should be providing the peer pressure. But he just seems to be too lazy. I'm thinking he is the kind of kid who will really respond to one of those schemes where he gets a sticker every time he goes, and then when he gets a certain number of stickers we go buy a toy.
Anyone with experience with this? That stuff would never have worked with Henry. I honestly don't remember how we finally got Henry using the potty... I think his sitter did all the work. And he was right around 4 years old. Tommy is not quite 2 1/2, but I'm sure he's ready.
He's definitely familiar with the body parts involved. A couple days ago, riding in the car, we were talking about something to do with daddy. All of a sudden, Tommy says "him have a p***s?" (I feel like I shouldn't write out the whole word or I'll get some kind of weirdos doing google searches for inappropriate things...)
I replied "who? daddy?" And Tommy goes "NO- hiiim" and holds up his teddy bear. "Him have a p***s?" And he points to the bear's tail!
I said "no- that's his tail."
Tommy thought about that for a minute and then said "Oh. Does him have a bottom, and a hole?" Straight from the Once Upon a Potty books.
I swear sometimes it's like starting all over with Tommy. Henry never went through some of those goofy stages that typical kids do- where they are obsessed with potty talk and stuff. Henry's always seemed sort of above all that, in a way.
Then Bill called a couple hours later to tell me that they were locked out of the house, and could I come home early? It's not like they could just hang out in the yard, with it being so sweltering outside.
Bill had a bad day at work, and some of my friends reported weird goings-on in their lives. Either it was a full moon or the heat is starting to scramble everyone's brainwaves.
We are going to try to "get serious" about Thomas's potty training. He definitely has the language and the knowledge of what's happening. He also has older friends at the sitter who should be providing the peer pressure. But he just seems to be too lazy. I'm thinking he is the kind of kid who will really respond to one of those schemes where he gets a sticker every time he goes, and then when he gets a certain number of stickers we go buy a toy.
Anyone with experience with this? That stuff would never have worked with Henry. I honestly don't remember how we finally got Henry using the potty... I think his sitter did all the work. And he was right around 4 years old. Tommy is not quite 2 1/2, but I'm sure he's ready.
He's definitely familiar with the body parts involved. A couple days ago, riding in the car, we were talking about something to do with daddy. All of a sudden, Tommy says "him have a p***s?" (I feel like I shouldn't write out the whole word or I'll get some kind of weirdos doing google searches for inappropriate things...)
I replied "who? daddy?" And Tommy goes "NO- hiiim" and holds up his teddy bear. "Him have a p***s?" And he points to the bear's tail!
I said "no- that's his tail."
Tommy thought about that for a minute and then said "Oh. Does him have a bottom, and a hole?" Straight from the Once Upon a Potty books.
I swear sometimes it's like starting all over with Tommy. Henry never went through some of those goofy stages that typical kids do- where they are obsessed with potty talk and stuff. Henry's always seemed sort of above all that, in a way.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
almost 100
"Thanks, God, for giving us a new week." That's what Henry just said, while soaking in the tub.
It's something I have said once or twice, when praying with him at church. But we haven't been to church in months. What made him say that tonight? What made that thankful emotion overcome him?
When I repeated it back to him, Henry added, "Thanks, God, for giving us the fire in the fireplace." I had already forgotten how sweet he was the night we made a fire on vacation. He was entranced by the fire and kept thanking each of the grownups for it. Maybe tonight he had an epiphany, and realized that, although Daddy might make the fire, God is ultimately responsible for it. (Or maybe he was just really mellowing out after a long day of summer camp swimming, going to "Bally Total Fitness" with Daddy, printing some things from the computer and eating a dinner of sausage and waffles.)
The pictures above are of a night my sons both fell asleep in Henry's bed (with a flashlight between them) something my friend Sal's kids do often, but I thought I would never see at my house; and their reaction to the fireworks on the fourth (holiday I supposedly don't like).
This is post #99. Thanks for reading for almost 100 posts. There's a good vibe in our house right now- hope it extends to yours as well.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
