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.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
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!
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!
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Three Sides of the Same Coin
It's glaringly obvious to me lately that Rowan has three different personalities. Just like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, but including Mr. Hyde's sad cousin. I don't know if this is normal for SPD kids, but I do know that with the changes starting to happen in this house as fall schedules approach, it's like spinning a roulette wheel several times a day, waiting to see what you'll get with each change or transition.
Will it be Rowan Number One? This is the cute, happy, giggly, smiley dude that makes the old ladies in the grocery store melt. This Rowan gives out copious amounts of hugs, loves to help, listens, chatters incessantly and pretty much all around makes my heart melt. He appears to be a normal, well-adjusted four year old. This Rowan, fortunately, seems to be the one he's bringing to preschool most days. I am thankful for that. I do wish he'd hang out here more often though. I hate to pick favorites among my son's split personalities, but I have to admit, this one is my favorite.
Oh, wait, it looks like Rowan Number Two. This one, I have the most sympathy for. This little guy appears when there is something scary, especially a loud noise. He does not like changes in plans or schedules. He is generally very, very sad or so upset he's been known to scream until the capillaries break on his cheeks. I can see the loss of control and the flailing to get it back. This Rowan makes me feel sad and helpless. Fortunately, as Rowan becomes so very verbal, we see this guy less.
Or...is it the Dreaded Rowan Number Three? Also known as Naughty Rowan or Rowan in Monkey Mode. This one can unfold three loads of laundry in 30 seconds, thinks pulling on the dog's ear until he yelps is SUPER hilarious, and will squirt a bottle of lotion on the floor to skate in. This Rowan will NOT be redirected (he doesn't even like social stories), will laugh when you scold him and runs away when he knows he's being naughty. He generally makes my blood boil and makes me look like a Bad Parent in public. He has been showing up around here a lot lately and he is NOT welcome.
Who am I kidding? They are all part of the child I love, and need to be accepted. I know who they are in OT language and what it means in the book: Number One is what we strive for, Number Two is sensory avoiding, and Number Three is sensory seeking. Easy to read about and understand in a book, but hard to live with.
As I anticipate changes ahead in the next month, I also full on expect this to become harder for a while. And then, it will level off again as we navigate the ups and downs of living with SPD. I always used to tell myself that the traits you want in an adult are really hard to have in a young child: curiosity, passion, determination, the ability to take risks and test boundaries. Then add in the fact that Rowan is so sensitive, and, according to his ECFE teacher a couple of years ago, "feels feelings bigger than most people." I believe these traits WILL serve him well as an adult - the world is in need of more sensitive souls who can see the world in a different way.
My little package of personalities is a gift, as hard as it is to live with parts of it. I continue to focus on the lessons I can learn during the tough times, celebrate the huge gains we've made, and grab the hugs when they are being doled out.
Will it be Rowan Number One? This is the cute, happy, giggly, smiley dude that makes the old ladies in the grocery store melt. This Rowan gives out copious amounts of hugs, loves to help, listens, chatters incessantly and pretty much all around makes my heart melt. He appears to be a normal, well-adjusted four year old. This Rowan, fortunately, seems to be the one he's bringing to preschool most days. I am thankful for that. I do wish he'd hang out here more often though. I hate to pick favorites among my son's split personalities, but I have to admit, this one is my favorite.
Oh, wait, it looks like Rowan Number Two. This one, I have the most sympathy for. This little guy appears when there is something scary, especially a loud noise. He does not like changes in plans or schedules. He is generally very, very sad or so upset he's been known to scream until the capillaries break on his cheeks. I can see the loss of control and the flailing to get it back. This Rowan makes me feel sad and helpless. Fortunately, as Rowan becomes so very verbal, we see this guy less.
Or...is it the Dreaded Rowan Number Three? Also known as Naughty Rowan or Rowan in Monkey Mode. This one can unfold three loads of laundry in 30 seconds, thinks pulling on the dog's ear until he yelps is SUPER hilarious, and will squirt a bottle of lotion on the floor to skate in. This Rowan will NOT be redirected (he doesn't even like social stories), will laugh when you scold him and runs away when he knows he's being naughty. He generally makes my blood boil and makes me look like a Bad Parent in public. He has been showing up around here a lot lately and he is NOT welcome.
Who am I kidding? They are all part of the child I love, and need to be accepted. I know who they are in OT language and what it means in the book: Number One is what we strive for, Number Two is sensory avoiding, and Number Three is sensory seeking. Easy to read about and understand in a book, but hard to live with.
As I anticipate changes ahead in the next month, I also full on expect this to become harder for a while. And then, it will level off again as we navigate the ups and downs of living with SPD. I always used to tell myself that the traits you want in an adult are really hard to have in a young child: curiosity, passion, determination, the ability to take risks and test boundaries. Then add in the fact that Rowan is so sensitive, and, according to his ECFE teacher a couple of years ago, "feels feelings bigger than most people." I believe these traits WILL serve him well as an adult - the world is in need of more sensitive souls who can see the world in a different way.
My little package of personalities is a gift, as hard as it is to live with parts of it. I continue to focus on the lessons I can learn during the tough times, celebrate the huge gains we've made, and grab the hugs when they are being doled out.
 |
| An example of Naughty Rowan, caught green-handed. |
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
What I Did on My Summer Vacation
*sigh*
I guess, for me, it's technically over. I mean, we still have a couple days together, including the State Fair, but my brain has switched over. I am in School Mode, like it or not. From here on out, it will occupy my mind and being until June 8, 2012.
I look back on this summer as the Summer of Expecting the Unexpected. A rainy June, a "part time" job that tied me down more than it was supposed to, a summer of scrambling for caregivers and juggling schedules, a rough start for Rowan. It's easy to feel just an *eensy* bit disappointed in the Summer of 2011. But then I think back to what I really did.
This summer I:
I guess, for me, it's technically over. I mean, we still have a couple days together, including the State Fair, but my brain has switched over. I am in School Mode, like it or not. From here on out, it will occupy my mind and being until June 8, 2012.
I look back on this summer as the Summer of Expecting the Unexpected. A rainy June, a "part time" job that tied me down more than it was supposed to, a summer of scrambling for caregivers and juggling schedules, a rough start for Rowan. It's easy to feel just an *eensy* bit disappointed in the Summer of 2011. But then I think back to what I really did.
This summer I:
- Watched my toddler turn into a Little Boy.
- Watched as my Little Boy turned into a Big Boy.
- Smiled at LOTS of tourists (mostly unwillingly)
- Appreciated the stars.
- Was entertained by backyard musicians under the age of 8.
- Made lots of chalk pictures on the sidewalk.
- Took the training wheels off.
- Picked my share of berries.
- Drank my share of wine and beer with good friends.
- Ate a genuine Kazakhstan cuisine.
- Kept the garden weeded.
- Secretly muttered a prayer of thanks to the summer wind every time I smelled or felt it.
- Threw one kickass four year old birthday party.
- Rose to the occasion with social stories, positive redirection and creative parenting.
- Learned from the times that I didn't rise to the occasion.
- Got my share of giggles and butt-slaps from my cafe coworkers.
- Maintained and grew friendships from the last 2 years.
- Read a bunch of great books.
- Convened with bodies of water.
- Chillaxed on a pontoon.
- Ate at least a dozen s'mores.
- Shampooed a dog.
- Sewed up a storm.
- Followed my heart.
Onward we go, into a new season and a new start in many ways for the whole family. I start a new job, Dan will self-employed in a month, Rowan will be at a new preschool. It seems the only thing we can depend on is change, isn't it? I can't help but feel a little bit like hiding somewhere, while simultaneously motioning that "come here" sign with my fingers while yelling "BRING IT!" to the Universe.
Here is to confidence, balance, and reflection on a Summer well spent.
Overheard #4
Rowan: Are we going to Nonnie's?
Me: At the end of the week. In four sleeps.
Rowan: (Goes over to couch and closes eyes,) I'm sleeping!
Me: At the end of the week. In four sleeps.
Rowan: (Goes over to couch and closes eyes,) I'm sleeping!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)