The Nonnie and Boppometer and The Moment My Clock Stopped

Our beloved Nonnie and Boppa have returned from their three month stint Florida!  Actually, they've been back for a few weeks, but the snowiest April in the history of Duluth had plans for us that did not include driving on backcountry roads.
This last weekend we drove out to see them for a much needed relaxing weekend.  They were a sight for sore eyes, and there was a TON of hugging to make up for lost time, especially between Rowan and Nonnie.
We'd been there for a few hours when my Dad looked at me questioningly, gestured at Rowan and inquired, "So....is this how he behaves now?"  I was taken aback for a second...I didn't quite know what he meant.  Was he insinuating that Rowan was being a pain?  Gosh, I thought he'd been pretty good...I mean, I had just asked him to pick up his toys and he listened.  The FIRST time.  My NINE year old doesn't do that.  "Uh...yes," I answered.  "Wow!" he said, "That's incredible!  He's like a totally different kid!" Then I had this funny realization wash over me.  About what a difference three months can make.  Those of us who spend every day with Rowan haven't really noticed how amazing this latest emergence has been, as it's been so gradual, but so steady.  Nonnie and Boppa were the perfect barometer.  Nonnie and Boppometer.
Apparently my father went on and on to my mother several times over the weekend about how great Rowan is doing.  How fun to stand back and look at him through their eyes.  To look at my witty, creative, conversational, agreeable, flexible, outgoing and confident little boy.  Every day, feeling more and more like it's going to be okay.  Like some day I will be telling a successful young man about what a pill he was as a child, with a laugh and a wave of my hand.

Nonnie and Boppa on Rowie's calendar. "That makes me so happy!"

++++++++++++

Winter finally left Duluth, at least for a few days.

Dan and Rowan went down to Bayfront Park on Monday, a gorgeous sunny spring day.  Rowan rode his bike (with training wheels...we'll get there) ALL the way there (about an hour for him - 10-15 for an adult).   We'd made an agreement that Aidan and I would come to the park after school, where Aidan could play for a bit and then I'd drive everyone home.
We got there and had an amazing Golden Moment.  My hubby and I got to cuddle up on a bench, bracing against the nippy Lake Superior wind that had suddenly come up, and felt like we didn't have a care in the world.  The boys are finally at an age where they can play so independently, and Aidan is so good at helping his brother.  Oh man, THIS is what I have been waiting for.  I wanted to press pause.
Especially since, during our golden moment, a family with much younger children passed by.  Their 15-19 monthish child was crying because he didn't want to be put down.  When he finally agreed, he spent most of his time running in front of fast moving swings, his parents scrambling after him
.  His nose was snotty.  His diaper looked full.  His parents looked exhausted.  And then I heard it, the ticking of my biological clock coming to a screeching halt.  It finally just got easy, and all I want to do is breathe a sigh of relief and look forward. And go back to the park NEXT Monday.

Not the park, but a day from the Snowiest April

The Good Kind

I seem to have a funny little blogging pattern.  Rowan goes up, I blog.  Rowan goes back down, I blog.  I guess really there is not such thing as in-between times so that makes sense.

I do have to say, though, this little guy, is a wonder kid.

His latest "download" came through with some pretty amazing things.  It was perfect timing because I was starting to lay awake at night worrying about the K-word.  I don't want to say it, because Lynnie will read this and be sad.  You know what I mean, though.  Starts with a K, ends with a N and in the middle is indergarte.  I worried about the social part, I worried about the making friends part, I worried about the not being able to write his name part, I worried about the not being able to stick with a task without getting uber frustrated part.  And then, voila, poof, abracadabra - there's a normally functioning (yes, quirky, but look at his parents) five year old.  He goes on play dates, he sat perfectly through the dentist checkup, he went CROSS COUNTRY SKIING where he fell down several times with a "that's okay!"

And then, there's this:

(That is a picture of Murphy!)

Oh, and there is this:

(That is a perfectly written name.)

Not to mention, this:

(That's not one, but TWO teeth gone! A full year ahead of when Aidan lost his, proving again, that this kid will do things according to HIS own schedule)

So fears for next year?  Yeah, still a few, but less and less as time goes by.  This kid has a sudden perseverance that he didn't have before.  He wants to figure things out, and dammit, he will try and try and practice until he gets it.  It is a beautiful thing.  I DO have a tentative meeting with the person in charge of getting kids put on 504 plans but I keep putting it off, because well...see above.  The kid just keeps on keepin' on and continues to surprise me with where he lands.

Last week at school I asked a couple of the K teachers for a copy of the sight words so we can get Rowie working on them now.  They were excited and didn't know I had a kiddo entering school next year.  They started to fight over him.  I said, "Uh, ladies, you might want to meet him before you fight over him."  They pooh-poohed me, and one pointed to the other and said, "She gets all the nice parents and kids, I get the crazy parents.  You're not a crazy parent!"  It happened to be "beach day" at school and I had the props to go with it.  I replied, "I have been carrying around a rubber dolphin all day, you do realize that, don't you?"  She replied, "Yes!  That's the good kind of crazy!"

The good kind of crazy.  I wouldn't have it any other way.

Blissfully Exhausting

Wow, holy blog neglect.  Whoops.

Short synopsis of the last three months: Me= job is going awesome, in the best shape of my life, sleeping well, mentally balanced.  Dan= business picking up, enjoying being stay at home Dad a couple of days a week. Aidan= perfect transition into a new school, rockin' out on guitar, making new friends.  Rowan = ups and downs but forward progress, still enjoying Lynnie's and speech at SRC, currently downstairs with a friend who is over for a playdate and they are loudly discussing farts.  So, in other words, Life is Good.

Rowan went through a pretty rough summer, followed by what felt like a week of relief, followed by another downswing.  Every time this happens, the longer it lasts, the darker things feel.  There are periods where I feel like we all go to that dark place:  Dan and I are short with each other, my patience is limited, I feel like Aidan isn't getting what he needs from us, and it feels like living with an overly sensitive grizzly bear.  The light at the end of the tunnel is that we know it's usually a sign that he is working through something. Whether it is regulating his hearing sensitivity, using words, asking questions, answering questions...it is like the sun shining extra brightly when he finally works his way through the latest neurological battle.  My friend, Erin put it really well: he's downloading.

This last week, the darkness has lifted and the sun is indeed shining brightly again it seems.  The thing I've noticed this time is that Rowan has been craving my attention.  The last few months, he has been working at getting my attention in awful ways: screaming, causing trouble on purpose, pushing buttons, making noises, saying inappropriate things.  No matter what consequence we threw at him, he was relentless.  It was draining.  This week, however, something shifted.  He is still craving my attention, but in such an APPROPRIATE way.  I think I have heard, "Mamma, look at me" 1,289,752 times in the last three days, 1,278,997 of those today while Christmas shopping.  And with it, these really deep five year old questions.  And I mean, enough of them to make up for about a year's worth of lost time.  "What does a sigh mean?"  "Do skeletons live inside your body?  Can they live outside your body?"  "Does God live at church?" "Why? Why? Why?" And today, in the bookstore/toystore, as I got called over to look at him or something he wanted me to see that million and a quarter times, I got a raised eyebrow from the clerk.  I wanted to run over, shake her by the shoulders and yell, "I KNOW!!  Isn't he GREAT???  LISTEN to that BEAUTIFUL sound of actual, real, appropriate attention getting measures being used by my son.  Don't you LOVE IT????!!!!!"  Then I would dance a polka.  I restrained myself though, and gave her a big smile and gave in to the requests of my amazing, beautiful, smart and inquisitive son.

Kickin' It

I had to share some photos of Rowan's soccer experience.  Yes, I said soccer.  An organized, TEAM sport, where he had to listen to his coach and work with his peers.  I came up with the idea last spring, my husband thought I was crazy, Rowan's preschool teacher thought I was a genius.  I went with the opinion of the person who had more experience (sorry, honey.) 
I am happy to say it was not a disaster.  While Rowan was not the strongest player on his team, he generally listened to the coach and interacted with his peers. Though I don't think the coach ever heard him say a single word in two months.   His playing was funny.  He just stood there the first game, until I encouraged him a little more, then he started to get in there.  One game he actually kicked the ball TEN whole times.  The next game he got spooked by some aggressive players and then for the rest of the season became very crafty at running away from the ball while somehow making it look like he was running with the group.  It was hilarious.
My favorite moment, however, was during the first game.  He'd had one practice, and we had drilled it in to his head: no hands, no hands, no hands.  At one point during the game, the ball went out of bounds.  The coach chose Rowan to throw it back in.  Rowan just stared at him, unresponsive.  The coach waited a minute, then chose another kid.  A couple of minutes later, Rowan ran over to me and whispered, "He wanted me to touch the ball with my hands!"  So...yeah, we had to review that one exception.

Proud brother, looking on

Kicking.  Not at the ball, but kicking anyway.

Running fast!

I am so proud of my little guy!

Well-lived

Well, it's that time of year again.

Summer is turning its back on me, fast-walking away, I am running after it with my arms outstretched, yelling, "Noooooooooo!"  I keep glancing over my shoulder at the New School Year Anxiety, which is  in turn chasing me.

I always get very "nesty" this time of year.  I have to stay busy, get my space in order, or I will start to think too much.  Yesterday afternoon was one of those days.  Yes, I was getting ready for Aidan's birthday party, but once those preparations were done I couldn't stop.  I cleaned that one corner in the porch.  I organized the downstairs freezer (zucchini from 2006, anyone?).  I made refrigerator pickles.  I cleaned out the car.  Finally, as I ran out of tasks, I jumped on my bike.  Just me and the Lakewalk, no one else, no destination in mind.

I tooled along on this pleasant PDD (Perfect Duluth Day) when suddenly my bike, seemingly by its own accord, pulled over to the side of the pathway.  I found myself staring down at a little secluded beach I'd never noticed before.  The water, crystal clear and almost Caribbean blue, was calling me.  There was a footpath down.

Next thing I knew, I was floating on my back in Lake Superior in my underwear.  How long had it been since I did something so spontaneous, on my own like that?  I suppressed a scream of glee.

Instead, I reflected on a summer well lived.  Wow, was this summer good to me.  The combination of having no real scheduled job and the amazing weather created a perfect storm of living in the moment goodness.  Every morning I woke up and felt the potential for a new adventure.  I lived it fully.  Anxiety about the new school year aside, I know I am going into the year in a really good place in my head.  My tank is full, I am re-energized, and mostly I am full of gratitude for the gift of this lovely, lovely summer.

I started out this summer with a list.  Did I complete it all?  No.  Do I regret it?  Not a chance.  Sewing projects?  Too beautiful outside.  Visit every playground in Duluth?  Not even close, but I have a new definition of playground that includes Park Point, French River and a perfect evening in the backyard with the neighbors and their kids.  I did so many unexpected things that weren't on the list, including a midnight hay ride at a wedding, tubing behind a boat with Edison friends and even working a fun little summer job.

 Here are my favorite pics from this summer:

Pontooning with Boppa

One of many fish caught this summer

Morning cuteness

The Flood

More Flood

Rhubarbra

French River

Sign cake

Bravery on wheels

Indian Lake

Frog catcher

Summerblue

Happy campers

Harry Potter around the campfire

Aboard the Vista

Agent P

Not pictured:  Fourth of July with the DeWitt-Websters, above mentioned hay ride, many days at the beach/river, making jam, the lush garden, time spent with Corryn & Carrie, the satisfied look on my face after each day.

Rowan is Five!

Well, we made it to five!  Those seasoned moms always say, "Enjoy it while you can, time moves fast!"  God, that is SO true, especially with the second child.
I posted on facebook that Rowan has been one of my greatest teachers in life, and that I love him so much for his passion, giggles, sensitivity, silliness, hugs, sense of humor and imagination.  As much as he has provided challenges, I would never trade him for the world, and I know the things that give him his challenging quirks are what give him his awesome, funny, cute and amazing quirks.
Nothing else to say but post a bunch of birthday pics.

Rowan surprised us by taking on the French River rope swing on his birthday.

We decided to start a tradition of letting the boys pick a restaurant to go to on their birthday.
That is how I ended up at McDonald's.

Rowan knew he wanted birthday cake flavored ice cream at the new ice cream shop by our house.  I should have gone to the gym twice on this day.

Rowan opens the coveted fan snowplow he's been asking for since January.

Trying out his new boat in the backyard.

Sign cake

The LVM crew

The water blob

Happy birthday, Rowie Bear!

Labels

A couple of people have expressed concern about us moving forward with getting a diagnosis for Rowan, worried about having a label attached to him.

I worried about this myself for the longest time, which I think is why we have waited so long.  It is obvious to me that the "wait and see" period that was proposed by the two previous experts has passed, Rowan still is exhibiting some red flags, and we are standing in the middle of a crucial period of his development.

The first lucky thing is that Rowan has a summer birthday, so we have some bought time.  I can't even imagine Rowan being ready for kindergarten this fall.  He can't sit still, his emotional maturity has a long way to go, his social development is still developing, he can't and won't hold a pencil.  Luckily, he has one more year to figure out who he is and sort out how he fits into the world.  We have a year of opportunity to get him the help he needs for him to be ready for kindergarten when he does go.  A friend of mine, who has a child with autism, said, "Get the diagnosis and wield it like a weapon!" in response to a pretty unresponsive school district we were dealing with.  We still decided to wait and see.  Here is what I am afraid will happen now if we continue with with wait and see:

-Rowan will never learn how to appropriately ask another child to play.

-Rowan will not learn how to regulate his emotions and have temper tantrums (which have included violence lately) into his school age years.

-Rowan will continue to struggle with handwriting and fine motor activities, making school more frustrating.

-He will continue to invade other people's spaces, yell in their faces, make weird noises and push their buttons.

-Rowan will not develop longstanding friendships

-Rowan's teachers will not understand him

Here's what it comes down to:  if WE don't give him the label and get him the help he needs right now (continued speech/language therapy, occupational therapy, perhaps some counseling for his mom and dad), this behavior will continue into his school years.  Then it will be the KIDS who give him the labels:  That weird kid who doesn't know how to play with us.  That scary kid who freaks out and throws and hits.  The kid who has no friends.

I will do anything it takes right now to stop that from happening.  So I am.