Birthday Emergencies

Just in case you were concerned that the cake might light on fire, or that someone might steal the presents, or that someone might get hurt, don't worry.  The birthday boy is prepared.  This is how we found him sleeping on the eve of his fourth birthday.  All is safe and well.  Age on, little boy. :)

The Look

I don't know why parents are so self conscious about what other people think of our parenting.  We just are.  There are so many styles and methods out there, and though I have always been confident in trusting my intuition over books and methods, I can't help but sometimes wonder if I'm doing it right.

And then there's parenting a kid with SPD.  How do you explain his behavior to strangers?  I can't even explain it to myself at times.  I've toyed with making him a set of t-shirts that say things like "Caution: Overly Sensitive Child" or "Please Don't Talk to Me."  There have been a couple times where I've almost told strangers he's autistic, just because that makes a lot more sense to people than "Oh, sorry, he's got a neurological disorder that impairs his ability to process sensory stimuli in the usual way."  Even the term "sensory issues" doesn't work, as I noted to myself in our last dentist visit.  The hygienist acknowledged it when I said it, and then pretty much did all the things you shouldn't do to a kid with SPD at the dentist, such as rushing him and tipping back the chair without warning him.

Because of this, I am used to "the look."  That raised eyebrow, hairy eyeball kind of stare that you get when your kid takes his shoes off and refuses to put them back on at the restaurant.  Or you are sitting on him in the checkout line.  Or he has just hit another child for not playing the game the right way. (Oh, that was horrible.  I think I apologized 327 times.)  Along with the look comes under the breath muttered comments.  Such as the lady at the McDonald's Playland who did not appreciate Rowan's loud sustained high pitched (happy) scream.  "Jesus," she said, "Someone needs to get that kid out of here."  I shot my own look at her, and briefly thought about educating her.  Bah.  Not worth the effort.  I've become much like the duck getting water thrown at it.  I just let it roll off my back.  I know what I need to do for my kid, and it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks.

Imagine my delight when I got the opposite look yesterday.  We were swimming at the river and Rowan was being SO happy, chatty and social.  He was swimming up to strangers and making all kinds of friends.  I later found out that he had offered his name, age and the fact that he had a birthday coming up to a couple of moms.  He was also encouraging a 4 year old girl, who was fearful of the water, to go swimming.  And apparently being really sweet about it.  This is the kid who usually won't talk to any strangers, let alone answer questions.  One mom in particular kept smiling at me and giving me a look that said, "How cute, charming, and polite your child is!"  And though I try not to put too much weight in those looks, I let this one count.

Summer in the Key of Rain

Summer is not what I expected it to be so far this year.

It started off with the news of a new job, the knowledge that I wouldn't be "tied down" by my summer job at the cafe, and the prospect of sunny days ahead.  It started on a high note.

Then it rained.  And rained, and rained and rained.  When it wasn't raining, it was cold and foggy.  A gray cloud hung over our fair city for what seemed like a month.  And then it moved into our house.   And my brain.  I have a serious case of bad-itude.

If living with a child with SPD has taught me anything, it is to expect the unexpected.  Know there will be ups and downs, and there is no such thing as a consistent pattern or cycle.  I assumed summer would be easy for my little guy: so much freedom, and fun and running around.  You know what they say, when you assume, you make a...well, you know.

Turns out that the same kid who needed the structure and routine during the school year also needs it for summer too.  Huh, go figure.  Wasn't the case last summer.  But then again, it didn't rain for 453 days straight.  I've been bitten 5 times, scratched about 15 times, kicked, screamed at, and am thinking about buying a helmet for Aidan and also one for the dog.  Loss of control has ensued.

After about 7 days of being cooped up, we ventured out to the local children's museum.  It was filled with crabby kids and their crabby parents, who obviously were feeling much like us.  Another day we went to the library, where just as we arrived a daycare full of crabby kids and their crabby providers poured in. The weather got the best of all of us.  Dan came home at the end of one of those days and I think I was catatonic.  I had reached the low point of my bad-itude.

But, as always, when you reach the low, you can only go up.  I have a plan.  Picture schedules and social story notebooks have resumed their positions in the rooms of our house.  One expert told us if your child seems like they're doing better, DON'T put the social stories and supports away.  They are doing better because the supports are working.  I ignored this advice and resolve to not do so again.

I am not the person with the plan, usually, but now I will have to be.  Lounge around in our jammies time this summer will be replaced by get 'em up and get 'em out.  We had an almost nice day yesterday (over 50 degrees, not raining).  My goal was to not be home all day.  Mission accomplished.  It was busy, and a lot of work, but MAN, did we have a hill of fun AND brotherly love.

I have my plan in place, my goal is set.  I will turn this negative cycle and bad-itude around.  Now, I just need the sun to come out.  (Oh, man...was that thunder?)

Hoping to see more fire truck and bike washes in the front yard soon!

The Big Decision

My 7 year old goes to the Greatest School in the World.  I mean the Greatest.  I have never seen such an amazing community of teachers, families and students who truly care for one another.  I am now faced with the decision to either 1.) Keep Aidan at North Shore or 2.) Transfer him to the school I just got hired at.  Still working on the pros and cons.  Here's what I have so far.

North Shore Pros:
Greatest School in the World
His best friend goes there
He will LOVE his second grade teacher
Will not scar him for life by changing schools (this happened to me in second grade)
Selfishly want to keep him there to stay in touch with friends and former co-workers
Secretly hope art teacher will quit so I can have her job, and wouldn't lose Aidan's spot (not likely)
Greatest School in the World

North Shore Cons:
Long drive - how to get him back and forth
Our breaks will not coincide
Not having him with me at school
Really tough class in general, kids wise

Edison Pros:
Same breaks
No transportation issues = serious convenience
Have him with me at school
Differentiated reading - the kid is a high flyer and honestly was not challenged AT ALL last year
Uniforms = no more clothing battles (a serious issue in our house...what is he, like a 15 year old girl?)
Snowflake Nordic right next door - ski dates with my son!
Spanish!

Edison Cons:
Scar him for life?
More behavior issues at Edison, tough on him?  But he is in a naughty class already and holds his own
Doesn't know a soul there
So many unknowns: will I give up a great community?  What if we don't like his teacher?
No Environmental ed.

Weigh in, people.  I think I've made up my mind one way, and then it changes.  I need your advice.

Overheard #3

Rowan, standing outside the bathroom:(Gasp!) Lookitdat! It's bee-yooo-tee-ful!!!

Me, walking to where he is: (thinking what? Something shiny? A butterfly? A picture?) What? What is beautiful?

Rowan: That! It's SO BEAUTIFUL!! (points at package of generic toilet paper.)

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I guess.

SPD Blog!

I've been looking for something like this blog.

http://www.spdbloggernetwork.com/

I've only read a few posts, but I can relate to so many of them!

Hopefully contributing soon!

When One Door Closes...

...or reflections on the night before I leave a bunch of people and a place that I truly love.

Let my preface this by saying I've had my teaching license for 10 years.  In those ten years, I have taught in seven schools in five districts.  Laid off, re-hired, art on a cart, years of uncertainty.  The Golden Year was my year as a long term sub at North Shore Community School, where, with the right support (finally) I realized my full potential as an art teacher.  Right after being super close to just throwing in the towel.  This last year, as a special ed. para at NSCS was my first year NOT teaching in some capacity.  My friend Julie called it my "Detour For Rowan" year, which is pretty much it.  Much of what I learned this year, I was able to use to help him.  I was a better mom because of my job.  Universe, I acknowledge that.  Thanks.

Tuesday morning I accepted The Job I Have Been Looking For.  It's at Duluth Edison Charter School, full time, elementary level, and in a school that is growing - no sign of layoffs or cut time in the future.  Really though, what I need to tell is how I found out I was chosen for the job.

Monday, I was on a field trip to the Great Lakes Aquarium with 45 first graders.  I knew the call was coming that day.  Indeed, there was the message, waiting for me as we exited the Aquarium.  The kids were at the park, soon to be headed for Dairy Queen, and I was encouraged by my colleagues (including Julie) to just go to the car and make my calls.  The message left was the head of school, calling to "talk with" me about the position.  I called back, no answer.  Left a message, basically saying I was on a field trip but would do my best to answer the phone.  Then I headed to DQ to meet the bus.

My little friend that I work with has high functioning autism, and the kid is a hoot.  He was among the 45 kidlets.  At DQ, well into ice cream cones, a couple of classmates put ketchup on their ice cream.  This sent my little friend into a tizzy.  He was gagging and freaking out, and eventually, threw up in his mouth.  I took him to the bathroom to fix the problem and all was good again, except we just couldn't be inside with ice cream ketchup anymore.

We headed outside and sat at a table, admiring the signs in the area (one of my little friend's favorite things) when the phone rang and I realized it was Edison.  I asked my little friend if he thought he could stay quiet while I took the call and he nodded seriously.  He sat, little round cheeks, big brown eyes, hands folded watching me while I took the call.  It was the job offer.  I took in the information, and while doing so, noticed Julie looking at me out the window with a "What???" look.  I gave her a thumbs up and mouthed the words "I got the job!"  I didn't accept right away, but gave my email to receive more info and asked the usual questions.  As I was still talking, Julie burst out the front doors sobbing.  This caught my now calm little friend off guard and sent him into yet another tizzy.  So here I am talking to my new boss, with an emotional friend trying to calm down an autistic kid in a tizzy.  Autistic tizzies are hard.  Anyway, I quickly wrapped up my call, and when I hung up, Julie threw her arms around me and said "Congratulations!" and my little friend, without missing a beat, continued, "...to the flag of the United States of America."  Which almost made me not want to accept the job, for to give up such moments.  Sigh.  But I did.

But I do need to say, NSCS is something special.  An amazing sense of community, so much support, so much love.  I don't think it can ever be topped.  I always wanted to teach in a school like that, and I wish my new job was there.  And my one year as a teacher there helped me see all that I can be.  And as far as this year goes,  I liked being a para, I didn't love it.  Teaching art, I feel so much passion for my job.  The kids inspire me again and again.  Sometimes you just know what you were born to do, and you gotta do it.

I will miss NSCS, and I know that several of the relationships I have forged will be there for good, even if the job isn't there.  I went in, I felt the love, I spread the love.  Mission Accomplished.

(Now who is going to help me make the decision about whether to keep Aidan there, or send him to the new school?)