Break On Through To The Other Side

I'll admit it, I want my little boy back.

I have endurance for a lot of things, but my emotional endurance is shot.  I finally shed some tears over Rowan's last regression last night, and unloaded the negative feelings, the guilt, the helplessness and the depression all over my husband.  Of course, he was, as always, an awesome listener and reminded me that I am not on this path alone.

I am making copies of every assessment ever done on the kid and bringing them to his well child visit next month.  I am asking for a referral.  I am looking for an official diagnosis.

Maybe they will label him with autism, maybe not.  I know he is "atypical."  But he is an atypical atypical kid.  He doesn't fit all the criteria for autism, but there are some red flags there.  I just know I want some help and reprieve from whatever monster this is that keeps stealing my child away from me every few months.  Just when we think we are through the worst of it, and I have watched him have what seems like an amazing breakthrough, it returns.  It's like riding a glorious wave and then finding yourself on a polluted beach when you reach the shore.  All that hard work to paddle out there, and yes, the ride was great, but what?  We're back here again?  How did that happen?  And every time he has a regression it's like he is slipping away from me.  Not only is he behaving negatively but he is clearly turning inward.  I can't figure out who he is.  I can't get close.  Hell, I can't even be fun because I am too busy playing drill sergeant and keeping him in line.

Oh, but I see glimpses.  Those impish flirty looks of those blue eyes and that delightful giggle of his.  The cute questions he asks. The HILARIOUS things he says.  The amazingly imaginative stories he tells me.  His huge capacity to give and receive love.  I know he is still there and will be back.  That is the little guy I want to see thrive.  I want more happy Rowie and less angry Rowie.

If you are reading this, I am asking that you say a prayer for our family, and for Rowan.  Pray that we can find strength to get through this tough spot, and that he can work through whatever he is stuck on.  Pray that as we embark on a journey to get a diagnosis, that we can be open minded and accepting, and that we will remember that a label will not take away the delightfulness of who he is, but will open the doors to getting him some help.

Gratitude to you.

Black and White/The Summer Bucket List

"Fool me once, shame on you.  Fool me twice, shame on me."

I fell for it again.  Rowan came out of his last backslide so beautifully that I convinced myself it wasn't going to happen again.  He is regressing with a vengeance right now. 

Regressions are hard.

Welcome back, fighting, biting, kicking, punching and screaming.  Just in time to help usher in summer.

Luckily, I recently discovered my Towanda, (avenger of all evil.)  It started with a group of sixth graders.  I just wasn't going to take their shit anymore.  I got angry, I avenged, it felt good and now I feel unstoppable.  Rowan picked a baaaaadddd time to get defiant.  I will avenge any evil this child throws at me.

One thing that has become increasingly clear over the last few weeks is that I need to take away all shades of gray.  Everything has become black and white.  Rowan is clearly looking to see where the boundaries are right now, and I am drawing them as clearly as I can.  Where I normally pick my battles, I have made everything a battle.  Say no to me?  I don't think so.  Growl at me?  Uh-UH!  Do something right after I told you not to?  Look out.  Whine?  No way.  I have become the Royal Queen Bitch in this house.  It IS possible to take EVERY toy away, did you know that?  I am amazed at how I have disentangled my emotions from this situation and so clearly can see how it needs to be done.  Exhausting?  Yes...but not as exhausting as letting him run the show.  Painful?  A little bit, but I got my eyes on the prize this time.  I will not raise a jerkface.  And since I have started this little plan, I notice Rowan still wakes up every morning and loves me.  

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

Let's get away from the negative and focus on the good things ahead.  I survived my first year at my new job, full time and with promise of full time next year.  The last day of school felt surreal.  I normally feel grief and sadness...this is the first time I know I am coming back to the same kids.  It was a challenging year in many ways, but I am ending on a very high note, already excited for next year.  And I am SO damn lucky.  (Oh, and did I mention it's my first REAL summer off?)

So without further ado, this year's Summer Bucket List (with help from Aidan):

1. Visit every playground in Duluth
2. Sleep in the backyard
3. Movies in the park
4. Lemonade stand
5. Fishing at Hartley
6. Camping, camping and more camping
7. Pirate exhibit at the Science Museum in St. Paul
8. Teach Aidan to snorkel
9. French River and lunch and the Scenic
10. State Fair
11. Pick strawberries
12. Pick blueberries
13. Make jam
14. Make pickles
15. Ride bikes to get ice cream
16. Teach Rowan to ride the bike tagalong
17. Make homemade ice cream the old fashioned way
18. Stay and swim at the Edge
19. Timber Twister
20. Have Lynnie over for dinner
21. Lots of pontoon rides

And my personal additions:

1. Keep the garden weed free
2. Host two kickass birthday parties
3. Deep clean and organize every room in the house, including the basement
4. Make enough aprons, bags and skirts to sell somewhere.
5. Catch up with old friends.
6. Stop sleeping in: seize each day.

My hope is that by posting these here, I will stay on top of the list, and hopefully post our adventures here!

The Underwear Incident

Last weekend, we took our annual trip to Ely to visit some friends, stay in a "gotel," and go swimming.

Saturday morning, we proceeded to start the usual routine of repacking things as Rowan unpacks them, scrambling to find everything and then realizing the Kids are Hungry Again right before we walk out the door.  Among the chaos of the morning, I remembered that Aidan is still in the middle of his anti-hygiene phase, particularly when it comes to his underwear.  Asking him to change it is like asking him to do some impossible, horrible task.  Many times he has lied when I've asked him "Did you change your underwear?" so now I do a check.  I make him pull the waistband of his pants down, note the color, send him upstairs, and note the color again when he comes back down.  Oh, the strange things we do as parents...  Anyway, I did the usual waistband check, he passed, and I sent him on his way.

We did finally make it to Ely, and excitement exploded as we reached the hotel room.  The Jump from Bed to Bed game commenced.  I announced, "Who wants to go swimming???" and suddenly there was more excitement. It was like two small tornadoes spinning around the room with clothes flying out of them as they rushed to get into their swimsuits.  I followed the tornadoes, picking up the debris, but something strange struck me as I picked up Aidan's pants and underwear, which had come off in one piece.  I realized that my son had not been wearing one, but TWO pairs of underwear.  He was too lazy to change them, so knowing he needed to pass the waistband check, he simply put the new pair over the old pair.  


My children: smart, funny, independent, creative.  You just can't make this stuff up, can you?

Blunder at the Lord's Table

Happy Easter!

I hope your day was inspiring, filled with loved ones and good reflection.  I also hope you didn't have to spend any of it hiding in a corner of your brother's church basement, wanting to die from embarrassment.  I did.

First let's preface this with two funny Rowan "overheards."

Rowan and I were staying with my brother Jeff's family, and attending church with them. (Dan and Aidan are on a road trip.)   One very moving component of the service was that there was a largish cross passed through the congregation.  Rowan was transfixed, and asking a million questions.  "What is it?"  "A cross?"  "What are they doing?"  "Passing it around."  "What letter is it?"

The next funny thing to happen was that Rowan leaned forward, and, inches away from a strange woman's face sitting the row in front of him, blew a large raspberry.  My mom, who was sitting with him, pulled him back and apologized to the poor woman.  Rowan, defensive, loudly exclaimed, "But I was trying to get the boogies out of my nose!!!"  Seconds later, "Oooh, I got one!"  The best part was looking down the row and seeing all the shoulders shaking with laughter. (Mostly my family, but I noticed the woman was laughing too.)

I can't even believe that I am writing about this, I am so embarrassed, but the way my husband laughed when I told him this story tells me it will entertain you.

I panicked when, halfway through the service, I realized they were serving communion.  It was the go-to-the-front-of-the-church kind, which we don't usually do at our church (or maybe we do, we rarely go anymore...read above for explanation.)  As we stood up to go, I went over and over in my mind how I was going to prepare Rowan, tell him what to do, not take too much, etc.  Also, I have been sleep deprived, nursing the last dregs of a bad cold, so in my defense not thinking clearly.  We got up to the front, I got my bread and shoved it in my mouth so I could focus on Rowan.  He sweetly put out his little cupped hands to receive the bread.  We got to the wine, I absentmindedly grabbed the cup out of the pastor's hand and took a sip as a little voice in my brain screamed, "What are you doing?  Intinction! you're supposed to dip your bread in!  Oh my God (sorry) now my cold germs are all over that cup, the pastor is looking at me like I am crazy, please can I shrivel up and die now?"  As my horror washed over me, Rowan grabbed the grape juice cup which the pastor had held out, and followed my lead, except he took several great swigs and then refused to relinquish the cup.  A short tugging match, and we booked it down to the basement where I hid, until Rowan would no longer let me.

I am glad my God is a forgiving God.  I hope the good folks at Grace Lutheran are too.

Overheard #6

Me: You did such a great job sitting at the dinner table last night!

Rowan: Did we get to have poxicles (Popsicles) after dinner?

Me: We sure did, lucky guy.

Rowan: Was it cold? *shivers, remembering*

Me: Yes, they were cold.

Rowan: We should call them poxicolds.

Teaching Your Child the Fine Art of Poetry

Aidan recently asked me if I know how to write poems. I dabbled in it a bit in high school/early college, but it never was my thing. I do remember writing Haikus and enjoying that. I explained the whole 5,7,5 syllable thing to him, and we came up with a few simple ones. Tonight, we wrote two masterpieces:

A leprechaun came.
He peed green in our potty.
It smelled like shamrocks.

I have underwear.
I wear it under my pants.
It is not a hat.

I Made Your Kid Cry Today...or Helping You To Not Raise a Jerkface

I made your kid cry today.

I might do it again.  I do not apologize for my actions.  I am sorry he was sad, but I am not sorry I followed through with my disciplinary action.

Let me explain myself.

Last night I had this dream, probably one of the worst ones of my life.  My little son, Rowan, was coming out of his Occupational Therapy session.  He and the OT walked toward me (well, he trotted, because that's what he does) and there was another woman with them.  I inquired who it was, and the OT informed me that it was the foster mom Rowan would be going home with.  He could no longer live with me.  I woke up, sobbing, my pillow and face wet.  He had climbed into bed with me, and I squooshed him REALLY hard.

What does this have to do with your crying child?

I KNOW that the raw feeling in that dream, that intense love, is a bond I share with all parents.  I KNOW that every parent is hopelessly in love with their child.  They are the cutest, smartest, most clever, etc.   Our common fear is losing them somehow, such a terrible thought to bear.  I sometimes find that it is important to remember that someone loves this child with that intensity in times when my, your, or other children are driving me nuts.  (My trick for remembering:  look at their eyelashes.  I don't know why that works, but it does.  Because, eyelashes.)

You would think that the eyelash/memory of strong love bond business would soften my resolve, but no, it doesn't. I think it toughens it.  Here's the thing that I think so many parents are missing right now:  it is OKAY to say NO.  It is okay to break their spirit once in a while (believe me, it will be back, more quickly than you think.)  It is okay to hold back on giving them everything they ask for.  It is okay if they cry or even get mad at you (gasp!)  I might ruffle a few feathers in the "natural parenting" crowd I mingle with, but   PARENTS:  be the adult!

I helped him by letting him cry today.  I probably helped you too.  You should try it.  Over time, your child might grow up to be:

• Considerate
• One who thinks of others before himself
• Aware of the value of hard work
• Knowing the value of making mistakes, and forgiving others for theirs
• One who does not text under the table at dinner
• Willing to share
• Willing to listen to the ideas of others
• Polite
• A loving, unselfish partner in a relationship
• A coworker who is respected for his integrity
• A person who never cuts anyone off in traffic, or shows road rage.
• Patient
• Someone who doesn't interrupt others while they are talking
• Accountablity

It is BECAUSE of that intense love that we should offer our kids the things they will need to be adults who are not selfish jerks, something as a teacher I am honestly afraid of for the generation I am teaching.  And those things are easy:  No, because I said so, that is not safe, I am talking to an adult right now you may not interrupt, you may come back to dinner when you have settled down, you may come back and play when you've said you're sorry, you're grounded, no treat tonight, I am sorry that all your other friends have that toy but if you want it you will have to earn your own money to buy it, no you don't need a cell phone, your cell phone will be taken away for a week because you were texting at the table/at school after I/your teacher told you to put it away, what is up with these grades, I stand by your teacher, you may not talk to me that way, you screwed up admit it now learn from it.  Boundaries.  Rules.  They don't come naturally to kids, they just don't.  Trust me, I am a teacher.  I know.  And really, does anyone want their child to grow up to be a jerkface?

My little son Rowan is easy to coddle with his own set of special needs and challenges.  It is harder to say no, harder not to go down the easy road.  It is something I struggle with every day, and beat myself up for my shortcomings (source of dream?)  I try to remember that because he has these extra challenges I have all the more reason to establish the boundaries.  He (and we) just have to work harder at it.  I will never let his special needs be his (or my) excuse.  And it will pay off.