The Moment We've All Been Waiting For

Life seems normal.

That might sound boring to most people, but it is extraordinary to me and my family.

Normal is what we've been striving for.

I feel like I woke up sometime in the last two months with this weird feeling, like, "Huh...that's weird...I don't feel frantic."

There is no doubt that Rowan has made a HUGE leap since Thanksgiving, on so many levels.  His language has become more conversational and expressive, he shows empathy and caring for others, he not only notices the other kids, but he wants to engage with them and follows along with their play.  He has become the boy we always knew was there: witty, sensitive, imaginative, caring and full of kisses and mischief.  He plays nicely with his brother, and they are totally IN LOVE with each other (or nearly killing each other, like most brothers do.)  Conflicts that do arise sure seem like typical four year old battles: whining, manners, sharing, using a bossy voice.  Lashing out violently, like he did about 9 months ago, isn't even on the radar.  His preschool teacher, Lynnie, said that watching him in the month of December was like "watching a flower bloom."

Sure, I know, as always, that there are still hills to climb ahead.  I know there will regressions and backsliding and all that nonsense, but I can't help but feel that many of the huge hurdles are behind us, and we will never have to leap them again.  We are still seeing the speech pathologist, and signed on for OT starting next month.  We are not checking him out of The Most Awesome Preschool in the World any time soon.  I'm no dummy.  I know why we're here.  It's because this stuff is working!

And so....I welcome you, uninterrupted conversation with my husband, giggles from the boys as they play together in another room.  Hello, visits to restaurants and relatives houses.  Good day to you, grocery store checkout line. Church...., um...ah, well...we'll get there.  Good evening, little boy who is upset with me because he is worried I got shampoo in his brother's eyes.  Good morning, kisses and hugs (oh...the BEST kisses and hugs.)  Hola, play date.  Real play date.  Where my kid plays.  With the other kid.

Blessed be. And Amen.

The Fitzpatrick 2011 Christmas card

Reflections on a Year

So, 2011 comes to a close.  So much to reflect on.  So much to look forward to.  So hard to not be all sentimental, reflective and hopeful this time of year.  I can't help it.

Here goes,

2011 - Lows

Sensory Processing Disorder
Aidan's surgery
Tough decisions regarding jobs and schools
The first 3 months of school (for me)
Dan getting laid off
Rowan not qualifying for SpEd services
Saying goodbye to my friends at NSCS
Losing our kitty, Beaner

2011- Highs

Trip to the Porcupine Mountains
Rowan's significant progress
Aidan learning guitar
Summer with Carrie and Corryn
Dan getting laid off
LYNNIE (Rowan's preschool teacher - she deserves her own post)
Rowan getting into speech therapy at SRC
A reminder to stay humble in my new job
Getting really good at sewing
The boys sharing a room

2011 - Grateful fors

Friends, old and new
My new creating space
Supportive family
Rowan - for being so funny, cute and imaginative
Aidan - for being so musical, funny, smart
Dan - for being supportive, loving and an awesome dad
LYNNIE
Duluth
My happy, healthy home

2012 - Looking forward to

More vacations
Watching Dan grow his own business
Watching Rowan grow into himself
Listening to Aidan's music
Making more stuff
Going on more hikes
Spending more time in and on the water
Laughing

A happy happy 2012 to you!!!!!!!!!

Body Parts You Can Live Without

I'll admit it, I've been ignoring my blog.  Sorry.  Insert usual excuses here: too busy, not inspired, etc.

It was an eventful week at the Fitzpatrick household, to say the least.  Starting Monday with a just-in-case ER visit, and crescendoing to emergency surgery by Saturday.  Fun times.

So, little Aidan has been dealing with phimosis for the last year or so, with little discomfort until about a week ago.  When he was complaining that it hurt to pee on Monday (he neglected to tell us it had been going on for days) we took him to the ER, and then consulted with a pediatric surgical urologist to schedule a minor procedure for the following week to open things up a bit.

Alas, things went downhill quickly.  More and more pain each day, until Friday night, where the kid could hardly pee at all.  Another trip to the ER, where we were told it was an infection.  Wrong.  In actuality, the hole was closing up, which it completely did by Saturday morning.  Ouch.

Immediately, I got on the phone to call the urologist again, and it was agreed an emergency circumcision was the only route.  Problem is, there is no pediatric surgical urologist in Duluth, so we had to rush to the twin cities.  Car Ride From Hell ensued.  For two and a half hours, Aidan howled in agony.  I did my best  while Dan sped.  Rubbed his back, applied, ice, played ipad movies.  The worst of it was that Rowan just didn't get it, and he couldn't stand Aidan's screaming, so he started screaming.  Then I started screaming.  I would not make a good nurse.

We finally made it down, and after a dose of morphine, the kiddo was more comfortable, and within 45 minutes he was in surgery.  The doc couldn't believe how much pressure his little organ was under and can't imagine how much pain he was in.  All went well, and we have returned home, frazzled and traumatized, but relieved, and with a little less skin.  Aidan is the bravest person I know.

While we were waiting to be discharged, Aidan and I were talking about body parts you can live without.  Your foreskin, your tonsils, your appendix, your gall bladder, etc.

"Have I ever had my tonsils or index out, Mom?"

At least he is understanding the parts of a book.  Nice.

Special thanks to Auntie Ann, who met us at Children's Hospital and went on Rowie Duty, so we could focus on getting Aidan fixed.

Reference Point

Sometimes you just don't realize how far you've come until something from the past resurfaces for a brief moment.

Remember Rowan's violent stage?  Ack, that was the worst.  He would get upset about something and immediately hit, kick or bite.  Especially noise, and especially Aidan playing any kind of instrument.  I am not quite sure how we survived it.  With many of his behaviors, the violent attacks would ebb and flow...so when it went away last time (when WAS that?) I gave it a sneer and a "Yeah, whatever, behavior, you'll be back."

Last week, Aidan sat down to practice the piano.  This usually upsets Rowan, but if he voices his opinion, Aidan will usually stop so we can get his brother occupied with something else or remove him to another room.  This time, Aidan decided to be all Big Brothery.  You know, push some buttons.  He kept playing.  "AIDAN STOP!!!!"  Continued to play more.  "AIDAN THAT'S TOO LOUD."  Kept on going. "AIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!"  (At this point, I am trying to get him to stop too.) And....kept playing.  I watched Rowan snap.  He just completely lost control, ran over, and smacked Aidan.

But this time it was different.  I saw something in Rowan's face change...horror and resentment at what he had just done.  (Aidan was fine, by the way, and frankly he kind of had it coming.)  Rowan ran over to me, sobbing, "I hit Aidan!"  like he realized how terrible it was that he reacted in such a way.

It was amazing to watch that realization wash over his face. What a great reference point.  A moment for me to recognize that slowly he is acquiring the skills he needs to cope with his sensory stuff.  Wow, how far he's come.   And, although he still can snap, now I know that behavior not coming back to the degree that it was before, because HE recognizes it.

Birthday Fun or Back in the Saddle or What a Father Will Do For His Kids

This post was brought to you by a big beefy steer.

First, let me preface this story by saying I am a hippie at heart.  I don't eat a ton of red meat, don't care for country music, or own a truck or any clothing with the American Flag on it.  These are important details later.

Saturday was Dan's 39th birthday.  Though things have been going fairly well around here, we were ready for a night out sans children.  This becomes apparent when you converse more through text messaging than you do in person.  We were all set for a movie, dinner and drinks, but alas, the Thing That Seems to Happen To Us More Than Most People Happened:  the sitter called and cancelled.  Down the list we went, but to no avail.  No uninterrupted conversation for us.

The two of us kind of moped around for a good part of the afternoon, as the "sorry I can't help you" calls rolled in.  We decided to go out anyway, with the kids, to Pizza Luce, a favorite haunt.  I rummaged through a collection of gift cards I have, knowing I had one for Luce, and stumbled across one for Texas Roadhouse that I'd received as a going away present last spring.  The idea struck me that this might make for an interesting night.  Neither of us had been there before.  Now, of all the places I can think of that I would like to visit least in the world, Texas might be first on the list.  A roadhouse might be up in the top ten.  A visit to an establishment like this is probably normalcy for many Americans, but for us it would become kitschy goodness.  Hippies in a Hotbed of Country Lovin' Folks.  I presented the idea to Dan, and with a giggle, he agreed.  I went upstairs and changed into a jean skirt, boots and a funny old pink cowgirl shirt I've held on to for some reason, just to kick it up a notch.

When we arrived to check in on our "call ahead seating," we almost bailed for two reasons.  First, the music and dull roar of the crowd inside made Rowan stop in his tracks.  He absolutely would NOT cross the threshold.   Second, as I peered in, I noticed PEANUT SHELLS all over the floor.  Oh great, I thought, not only are we in for a Sensory Overload experience with Rowan, but we'll get a bonus round of anaphylactic shock with the other kid.  Happy Birthday, Daddy.  Somehow we overcame these obstacles as Rowan was calmed by our reassurance and the presence of the epi-pen in the backpack was verified.

Once we were settled and seated, it actually ended up being the perfect place for our little family.  The music wasn't too loud, and the crowd translated as more of a white noise, which kept Rowan in check.  Plus, our kids could be their normal boisterous selves and we wouldn't have to worry about their noise level.  OH, AND they had KRAFT Macaroni and Cheese on the menu.  FINALLY.  Come on, chefs, kids don't want fancy homemade mac n cheese, they want KRAFT.  A good chance the child will actually eat at this restaurant.

The giant slabs of beef and their accompanying sides of potatoes in various forms were good, Aidan had gravy for the first time, and Rowan ate pretty well, with help from a last minute social story written on our magna-doodle.  (Our server wasn't quite sure what to make of that.)  The best part was the fact that Dan had to sit in the birthday saddle while everyone in our section yelled "YEEE-HAW!"  That was worth the trip right there.  We wrapped up a decent evening, eating out with our kids, a rare thing.

Oh....I almost forgot.  Driving out of the parking lot, Rowan realized he had left his presh-us wooden signs at the table.  I wish I had been a fly on the wall to witness my husband, on hands and knees, searching the floor under the table we'd been at, where there was now seated an Asian family who seemed to speak very little English.  They kept saying "sorry" while Dan tried to explain missing tiny wooden traffic signs.  He found them.

Happy Birthday, Dan.  We love you!

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes...

One month ago, I imagined what life would look like at this moment in my life.

I imagined Aidan, off to school, with copious amounts of stress surrounding getting him there and back.

I imagined Dan, bummed at the prospect of losing his job soon.

I imagined Rowan, an anxious wreck over being in preschool full time and having upheaval in his routine (again.)

I imagined myself, overwhelmed by the new job and changes, exhausted, no time to keep up on housework, bills, putting food on the table...and too tired to be a good parent.

Here is where I sit instead:

Aidan is off to school.  Our friends and neighbors have stepped up to help.  He is transported safely, and secure and happy in his after school care.

Dan sees the end coming, but is focused with new resolve and confidence to get his own business going. (Not to mention new gear..he is all set!)

Rowan....oh what do I say about Rowan?  Well adjusted.  Happy.  Confident.  Would I have ever believed he'd ask me to go back to preschool as I was buckling him into the car at the end of the day?  Would I ever have dreamed that we'd make a sudden and rash decision to move him and Aidan into the same room the second week of school?  Lordy, no.  But it's all happening, and it is all so very good.  And WOW does that make everything else easier.

And me?  Yes, the job is overwhelming, and many days I feel like a deer in headlights, BUT, along with it is the realization that last year I was living in a state of "meh."  I feel passion in what I am doing, and MAN, DO I EVER LOVE TEACHING ART!!!!!!  And the crazy thing is, it carries over to all the other parts of my life.  I don't know, maybe I was depressed last year, but having this new job doing what I love motivates me to be a better mom, friend, wife, person.

I feel kind of underwhelmed in my own response to all these changes.  I keep looking around, thinking, "Am I missing something here? Shouldn't I be more stressed out?"  And then I'm like, "STOOPID, enjoy this moment!  You are not running around like a crazy person like you thought you would. Stop worrying about worrying."

And then I sit back, breathe, and ride this glorious wave.  Sometimes change is just what you need.