Darklight's profileConfessions of a Former ...PhotosBlogListsMore  |  Tools Help |
|
|
January 16 Even BetterMy daughter is known for an activity she calls "thinking". I have no doubt mentioned this before, but am too lazy to look up the reference. Anyway, in short, thinking involves pacing back and forth while mumbling to herself. When she "thinks" she is making up stories in her head, creating dialogue, and the like.
On Saturday, my son went for a playdate at a friend's house. When Valerie and I arrived to pick him up, he announced that he had been rollerblading in their basement and wanted to show me. We went downstairs for the demonstration. He got all suited up -- rollerblades, helmet, elbow pads, shin pads, gloves -- and showed me one length of the basement on wobbly ankles (and holding my hand) before he lost interest and moved on to something else. Then Valerie announced "I want to try it." I wasn't optimistic about this -- my daughter is beautiful and sweet and smart, but coordinated -- not so much. But we suited her up (she skipped the shin guards) and got her started. To my amazement, after about 2 lengths of the basement with her holding my hand, she was on her own. Back and forth across the room, over and over again.
After a while she declared emphatically, "This is even more fun than thinking!!" High praise indeed. November 29 Bedtime SongEvery night, before they go to sleep, I sing a song to each of my kids. They get to pick the song.
When I was young, I used to love to sing. I sang in choirs up until I was about 13. The school I went to for grade 7 and 8 was quite big on singing. There was a music festival that we went to every year. We entered in all kinds of different categories -- soloists, duets, trios, triple-trios, choirs. One year, I was trying out for the triple-trio. There were 10 of us trying for 9 spots. I didn't make it. I sang in the choir, but after that, I would never sing alone, or in a small group, in public (expect in my 20s when I would get drunk, then I'd sing anywhere and think I was just great). When I started singing Hush Little Baby to Valerie in the car that day, it was really my re-introduction to singing in front of someone, even if she was my baby.
That started me singing all kinds of songs to my babies. Songs that I grew up with (oddly enough, most of those songs were really before my time). To Valerie, I'd sing Brown Eyed Girl. To Isaac, the old Carpenter's classic -- Close to You. Brown Girl in the Ring for both of them. As they got a little older, the songs would change somewhat -- they'd want kids songs. In the car, we'd always listen to music. Usually music I liked, sometimes I'd make CDs with a mix of "adult" and "kid" music. Valerie associated songs and artists with the track number on the CD. She'd tell me "this is the same person who sings song number 2". Or we'd be in a store and she'd tell me "Mom, you have this song. It's number 11 on your CD." Valerie listens to music and would rather hum the tune than sing the words. Isaac listens to the vocals and likes to sing along. In fact, Isaac sings all the time, especially in the car. The Scooby Doo theme being his current favourite.
A few months ago, tired of singing the same kids songs every night, I started telling them about (and singing) the songs I would sing to them as babies. They are quite fascinated by anything that has to do with them when they were babies. So we started singing the Carpenters again. One day, while he was stalling and being silly, Isaac asked me to sing Tomorrow, not realizing there was actually a song called Tomorrow. I started belting out that song from Annie. He was fascinated. We sing that one alot now.
Having kids has brought back for me something I used to take pleasure in and stopped for no good reason. I like to sing. I sing in public now (karoake even). I am one of the only people who will sing in my guitar lessons (I still suck at guitar. Apparently you need to practice). The ex husband is trying to get me to join a women's barbershop chorus (the answer is no). Apparently he thinks I have a good singing voice, which is nice to hear, since he definitely does and is a good judge of that kind of thing.
So the other night, I was tucking Isaac in and asked him what song he'd like. His response: "I Don't Like Mondays". He remembered it from a CD I had made eons ago. Some bedtime song. September 16 Out of Sight, Out of MindA couple of weeks ago, the daycare my kids attend had a little carnival. Amongst the activities were a few of those "guess how many candies in the jar" games. The kids were keen on winning something, so they put in guesses on everything, except the jar of jelly beans (Valerie because she claims she doesn't like jelly beans (?!) and Isaac likely just forgot since I don't think he's yet met a candy he doesn't like). Anyway, the next day they went to the director of the daycare and asked who won the candy guessing contests. She started rhyming off names "so-and-so won the gum, so-and-so won the ju-jubes" when she notices the jar of jelly beans sitting on her desk. They had forgotten to see who won the jelly beans. So she said "and Valerie and Isaac won the jelly beans." Valerie, of course says "but I didn't guess for the jelly beans," but Isaac, overjoyed at the prospect of eating a mountain of candy didn't think it really mattered whether they had entered the contest and eagerly accepted the jar.
I gave them each a few (and true to her word, Valerie played Easter Egg hunt with hers rather than eating them). For the next couple hours I was harrassed by Isaac. "I want jelly beans. Mom, can I have some jelly beans?" I kept telling him he could have some after supper, and put the jar on top of the fridge so it would be out of his reach. He was involved in some activity, when he looked up at me and said, "Mom, I can see those jelly beans up there." I reply "Yes, Isaac, I know." At which point he tells me "well, I think you should put them someplace where I can't see them, because when I can see them, all I can think about is jelly beans." Not unlike his mother. Except if there are jelly beans in the house, they are all I can think about whether I can see them or not. So I put the jelly beans in a cupboard, out of sight. Unfortunately, I knew where they were. September 03 School SuppliesSo. My daughter starts grade one tomorrow. I've been complaining to anyone who would listen about how reasonable it is that school starts at 8am. What's up with that? Valerie, like her mother, is not so much a morning person. Should be fun times, getting up at 6.
I just thought I'd share with you all the crazy (in my opinion) list of school supplies required for grade one. I started shopping for these supplies last Monday. A week is perhaps not quite enough time.
The instructions state that we are to put all the above items, except the box of kleenex into a labelled ziplock bag which will be kept at school. I stuff the pencils, coloured pencils, highlighters, scissors, erasers, and pencil sharpener in the pencil case. The pencil case, box of crayons, old sock, 6 huge glue sticks and extra ziplocks all somehow manage to find their way into the labelled ziplock. It is a feat of packing science. There's no way the shoes are going in the ziplock though. I figure they meant to put shoes in the same category as kleenex (i.e. stuff that won't go into a ziplock no matter how big it is). Is it just me, or does this list seem at little bit, well, INSANE, for a kid in grade one? July 19 Running CommentaryA few weeks back, the father of my children, his partner, my daughter, and I attended my son's junior kindergarten graduation ceremony at his daycare. We arrive at the small daycare gymnasium early since we know from experience there will not be enough seats. The first 2 or 3 rows of seats are the small sized chairs -- sized for little kid bums. Valerie immediately sits down in the first row. We adults are hesitant to sit on these small chairs. Her father isn't known as "the ass of destruction" for no reason. When his ass comes in contact with things, said things have a tendency to break. So, we try to talk her into sitting at the back with us, on the bigger chairs. She doesn't want to. She wants to make sure Isaac can see her. Figuring that the gym was small and I could see her from where I was sitting, I figured, why not? Let her sit in the front. At one point, another little girl from her class who also had a graduating brother came and sat down with her.
The ceremony begins. Names are called. Four year olds in caps and gowns are trotted out. Some are terrified. Some are delighted. And then my daughter begins her commentary.
Valerie: We need silence in here!!! (This in response to people clapping a little too long and making it difficult to hear the name of the next graduate).
The brother of the little girl sitting with Valerie is called.
Valerie: Ben!!! Hey, Ben! Your sister is right here. See her Ben?
The ceremony goes on. Isaac is not yet called.
Valerie: I want to see Isaac. When will it be Isaac's turn?
More kids. No Isaac.
Valerie: I am soooooo disappointed. When will it be Isaac's turn? Call Isaac!!!!
Finally, Isaac's turn. He advances on the stage quite shyly. As luck would have it, at this very moment, both of his parents' cameras managed to crap out. Lovely.
Valerie: Isaac!!! Mom and Dad are at the back Isaac. Do you see them Isaac?
Isaac pretty much looks like a deer in the headlights.
Blissful silence from Valerie for a few minutes. Then the entire JK class is brought on to the stage to sing some songs. Isaac has opted not to sing.
Valerie: Isaac, sing. Sing Isaac!!! Isaac. Move your lips. Sing Isaac. Why don't you sing Isaac?
At this point, thankfully, the ceremony and Valerie's associated commentary comes to an end. I head up to the front row.
Me: So Valerie, you had a lot to say didn't you?
Valerie: You could hear me? May 26 Good QuestionTonight my daughter asked me "why did you want to have children?"
I'm not sure if it's a sign that I'm a bad mother that I was stumped. She graciously answered the question for me. "Because you wanted to get hugs and kisses?"
I know that as long as I have young children, I will have someone that will hug and kiss me and tell me they love me every day. I'm sure it won't last much longer.
I might need to have more babies ... March 31 Head In the CloudsAt some point fairly recently, my mother tried to teach my kids about the concept of heaven. They were no doubt talking about the recently deceased Ringo and Marshmallow, and probably looking at pictures of my grandfather.
So, she told them that Ringo and Marshmallow are in heaven together, in the sky, in the clouds.
From Isaac: Mommy, is heaven a farm?
Me: Well, maybe for cats.
From Valerie: When you die, they cut off your heads and bury the bodies. Then birds come, swoop down, scoop up the heads and carry them up to the clouds.
Me: Well, no Valerie, they don't cut off your heads. It's your spirit or your soul that goes to heaven. It's a thing inside you.
Valerie: Well I guess they just rip out your eyeballs then (I thought this was kind of interesting, eyes being the windows to the soul and all)
Me: No honey, it's like being a ghost. Your ghost goes to heaven.
Valerie: Do cat ghosts say "Boo!"? February 06 Let's Be ClearSince all of my dishes are packed and I have essentially no food in the house, we have been eating out lately. My friend D has been helping me pack. So, tonight, we pick up my kids at daycare and we go to the Lone Star for supper. We're looking over the menu, Isaac is acting like a crazy person (as usual), when the server comes over and the following conversation ensues.
Server: Do mom and dad need more time to look over the menu?
Me (in my head): Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha.
D says nothing which makes me wonder if he's even heard this. I find it impossible to fathom that he's going to let someone believe he's the father of my children (or anyone's children for that matter).
Valerie: That's not dad. That's mom's friend.
Isaac: Yeah, that's not dad. That's D. Dad is A.
Valerie: My dad is at singing lessons.
Server: Well, that was embarrassing.
Then later on.
Valerie: Are you going to have another baby? Me: No.
Valerie: Why not?
Me: Do you want me to?
Valerie: Yes.
Me: Well, I'm not going to have another baby, because I'm not married anymore and you need a dad to have a baby.
Valerie: Well go to dad's and have a baby with him.
Me: No Valerie, I won't be having any more babies with your dad.
Valerie: Why not?
Me: Because we're not married anymore.
Valerie: Well maybe D could be the dad then.
Me: I don't think so.
Valerie: Why not?
Me: Because I don't think he wants to be a dad
D: (shakes head)
Later on in the car, the favourite topic emerges again.
Valerie: It would be really easy to get babies out if they were just under your shirt.
Me: Yes it would, but babies aren't just under your shirt, they're inside your belly.
Valerie: How do they get out?
Me: Don't you remember, we talked about this the other night?
Valerie: Do they just pop out?
Isaac: They come out through your VAGINA. Or you cut them out.
Me: That's right.
Isaac: Then you need a knife. To cut them out. (Starts making cutting noises).
Valerie: What would happen if the baby didn't have a dad?
Me: Well the baby would have to have a dad. You need a dad to make a baby.
Valerie: But what if there wasn't a dad?
Me: There would have to be dad. Maybe the mom or the dad wouldn't be around after the baby was born, but every baby has a mom and a dad.
Valerie: What if only the mom looked after the baby?
Me: Well then, that would be ok, because somebody needs to look after the baby, but it would be better if there was a dad to look after the baby too. It's better if the baby has a mom and a dad to take care of them.
Sigh. My close friends P&K are awaiting the arrival of their third child. A girl. Due on Valentine's day. I hope that the arrival of this baby will be enough to calm Valerie's baby fever for a while. February 05 Think About ItAs I have no doubt mentioned here before, my daughter does this thing where she paces back and forth. When she paces, she is thinking. She is thinking up stories, songs, etc.
A couple of very brief conversations about thinking.
Me (upon observing my daughter pacing): Valerie, what are you thinking about?
Valerie: Can you hear me?
Granny: Do you think at school too Valerie?
Valerie: No. You're not allowed to think at school.
It's funny cause it's true folks. January 30 Pink EyeIsaac has Pink Eye. Isaac gets this so called "pink eye" every time he has a cold. It goes away in a couple of days whether I treat it or not. This particular affliction is the bane of my existence because it sends daycares and schools into a huge frenzy of "it's soooo contagious -- that child cannot be here." I wonder where they think he actually picked up this thing to begin with. I don't have pink eye. His sister doesn't have pink eye. His dad doesn't have pink eye. Hmmmmm. One time, my boss, who's sister is an eye doctor, told me that this frenzy of worry over the contagiousness of pink eye is just a scam. That pink eye is in fact no more contagious than any other viral/bacterial infection (e.g. the common cold, which no daycare or school routinely sends kids home for, by the way.)
Every time they start claiming pink eye, I take the kid to the doctor with the hope that just once the doctor will say that he just has a discharge associated with a cold. Of course, that never happens. They always give me drops (which Isaac calls "drips") to put in his eyes. This is just the most wonderful experience in the whole world, installing the "drips" in this kid's eyes. It causes him all manner of crying and panic. Tonight we sang "Daisy" and counted to 15 in French to get through it. We now have to go through this twice a day for the next 7 days. So, just in case any of y'all were wondering, the most effective way to get drips into a child's eye is to have the child lie down and close their eye. You then put the drip in the inner corner of the eye, ask your spawn to open their eyes, which will make the drip roll into the eye. Presto. However, science has come up with this brilliant "improvement" on eye drips. That is, the magic liquifying gel. Why this is an improvement, I do not know. First of all, said gel does not come out in measured drips. It is hard to control. Secondly, said gel takes a good 15 seconds to liquify, requiring your panicked, squirmy offspring to remain lying down motionless with eyes closed for at least 15 seconds while the stupid stuff turns to liquid. As opposed to the, oh let's say, almost instaneous liquid properties of actual eye drips. Then, of course, since it is necessary to put 2 drips in each eye, the whole procedure needs to be repeated again 2 minutes later after the first gel/drips have had a chance to penetrate the eye. I really wonder who they tested this product on.
Of course, now, Isaac has to stay home tomorrow. This means another day of worked missed for me. I brought home the laptop, but really, I'm kidding myself if I think I'm getting anything done with a rambunctious 4 year old running around the house. Normally, I would not really complain about a day off with my son, but under the current circumstances, with my move/vacation planned for the next 2 weeks, I really need to get some work done.
Oh well.
I swear, as I type this, my eyes are feeling scratchy and itchy. Power of suggestion I hope. January 16 He Just Never StopsMy son. He is the source of most of the amusement in my life.
On Babies:
Isaac: Mommy, how do the babies get out of your tummy? Do they come out through your bellybutton?
Me: No
Isaac: Do they cut your belly to get them out?
Me: Well, sometimes, but they didn't have to cut my belly to get you guys out. Actually you kind of squeeze them out, like having a poop.
Isaac: Oh yeah, you SQUEEZE (said with a squeezing out a poop sort of expression/tone of voice) them out. And I was a big baby right?
Me: Yes, you were (9lbs 4oz).
Isaac: And Valerie was a little baby?
Me: Yes. (7lbs 1oz)
Isaac: Yeah, I was a HUGE baby and you SQUEEZED me out!!
To those that say the second delivery is easier than the first, I say: pffffffftt!!
On the equipment present in the bathroom:
Isaac: I wish there were 3 toilets in here so we could all poop at the same time.
Me: That would be really stinky if 3 people pooped at the same time.
Isaac: Yeah! Ha ha ha ha.
Me: Plus, most people like to be by themselves when they poop.
Isaac: Not me, I like to poop with other people. January 08 The LoraxLately at bed time, the kids and I have been reading The Lorax, by Dr. Seuss. This is one of my all time favourite stories. Dr. Seuss is just super cool to begin with, making up all those crazy words and stuff. And The Lorax is full of them. Things like "Whisper-ma phone", "Snuvv" (a secret strange hole -- my personal favourite) and "Slupp". And excellent phrases, like "and I biggered my money, which everyone needs." and "I speak for the tree for the trees have no tongues" and "sir you are crazy with greed, there is no one on earth who would buy that fool Thneed" and "regardless of crummies in tummies you know" (speaking of which, Valerie's crummy tummy reappeared magically at bedtime. After consuming a granola bar, a grape popsicle, 3 pieces of toast, pasta, another grape popsicle, a pouch of Care Bear fruit candy and a yogurt. Pfft. Faker.)
The story is about greed and preserving the environment. The kids are very curious and starting to understand the story. I read it, punctuated by interruptions from the kids (mostly Isaac). For example, last night
Me: At the far end of town where the grickle-grass grows ...
Isaac: Excuse-me mommy. There's no such thing as grickle-grass
Tonight:
Me: At the far end of town where the grickle-grass grows ...
Isaac: Excuse-me mommy, what's grickle-grass? Is that grickle-grass? (pointing at some grass-like illustrations)
Me: Yes, it must be
Tons of questions. Why does the Once-ler want to do all those bad things? Why does he want more money? It's an interesting concept to try to discuss with a 4 and 5 year old.
Me: Well, everybody needs money, so we can buy food, and clothes and have a place to live. But some people want more and more money so they can buy more things that they don't really need.
Isaac: I just want enough money to buy food.
Tonight we had an interesting discussion, right in the middle of the story:
Isaac: Mommy, do some girls have penises?
Me: No honey, no girls have penises.
Isaac: Only boys?
Me: That's right, only boys.
Isaac: Mommy, does the Lorax have a penis?
Valerie: No he doesn't.
Isaac: Does he mommy?
Me: Well it doesn't look like he does.
Valerie: He's not a person, so he doesn't have a penis.
Isaac: Oh yeah.
And then, on with the story.
Anyway, read The Lorax. Great story. Even without the injection about penises. January 07 Sharing My BedHalf the time, I share my bed with other people. Two small people. On the nights the kids are here, they inevitably end up in my bed. I have no philosophical or parenting style objection to the kids sleeping with me. I have a king sized bed. If they would get into my bed, stay in their own space and go to sleep, it would be find. I do object to is the absence of sleep when they are in my bed. My daughter sleeps. Sideways. With her legs poking into my ribs. My son on the other hand, would prefer to talk. "Mommy, look at me." "Mommy, turn around." "Mommy, look at me." "Mommy, look at me." "Mommy, why aren't you looking at me." "Mommy, can I have my breakfast now?" "Mommy, I'm hung-ary." Then, when he finally decides to settle down, he usually sleeps as close to me as possible, sharing my pillow.
It is driving me insane. Every day, we talk about how they need to stay in their own beds. I send them back to bed sometimes 5 times a night. Their father has installed a gate in the door of his room to keep them out. I might have to do the same when we move.
We have rules about when it is ok to sleep in my bed. When you're sick, and when there's a thunderstorm. Today, around noon, my daughter started to complain that her tummy felt funny. This funny feeling tummy didn't stop her from eating. Tonight, when going to bed, she re-started the funny tummy complaint. "Remember, a long time ago when I throwed up?" she said. "Yes. What about it?" I said. "You let me sleep with you," she said. "Do you need to throw up now?" I asked. "No," she said. "Go to bed," I said. "But my tummy feels funny. I want to sleep with you." I'm pretty sure the funny tummy is fabricated. She's tried it before.
Yeah, I know, it's a phase and it will pass. But by the time it passes I might be insane from sleep deprivation. January 06 What's in Your Nose"Mommy you've got elephant fingers in your nose," said Isaac. "No I don't. I don't have anything in my nose," said Mommy.
"You have snot in your nose," said Isaac. "Yeah, probably," said Mommy.
"Yeah," said Isaac. "If you cut off your nose, snot would be flying everywhere."
"I guess that's why we shouldn't cut off our nose then," said Mommy. "Not to mention that it would hurt."
"Yes. Snot and blood would be flying everywhere and you'd need a bandaid on your nose and it would hurt forever." January 02 Imagine ThatThis evening, my 4 year old son, completely and totally of his own accord, decided to clean the toilet. He got out the toilet brush and cleaned the toilet. Just because he thought it needed cleaning I guess (he was right). It's pretty clean looking now. Then he washed his hands and came into the kitchen to help me make supper.
What a kid. December 29 Boy-isms"Hi there marshmallow mommy!"
These are the words my son greeted me with when I arrived at my parents' house on Christmas Eve. Since my boy is always making up funny little sayings, I figured this was just another demonstration of his creativity. Little did I know. Until I heard this story.
Mom: You know what Isaac did this morning? He came up and grabbed my boobs and said "Granny, these feel like big soft marshmallows".
It all became clear to me. On Christmas Day, he amused all of the female dinner guests by doing the marshmallow grab. We had to teach him that this was not really funny. Lest we get a note home from Miss Julie telling us that Isaac is doing marshmallow grabs at school.
He is also making girlfriends out of some of my female relatives. His first girlfriend is Aunt Janie (my aunt, my mom's sister). His second girlfriend is my cousin Terri. Isaac and Terri hit it off famously on Christmas Eve when they had a tea party together. Isaac even put on makeup for Terri so she could look pretty for the tea party. When I asked him if he was wearing makeup too he said "No, it's only for girls!!!" in the best "you must be kidding" voice that a 4 year old can muster. His love for Terri increased by at least 10 fold when she took him for horsey rides around the house. About playing horse, my darling had this to say:
"Terri, take off your shirt. Horses don't wear clothes."
God help me. December 23 Hard Questions"Why are you and daddy not going to be married anymore?"
This is the question my daughter posed to me on my birthday. I know I should have been prepared to answer it, but I wasn't. I tried the stall tactic.
"Have you asked your dad?"
"No."
I changed the subject. She left it alone, but I knew it would be coming back soon enough. A few weeks later, the following discussion took place.
Son: A (his best friend), says we're going to get married. (This has come up frequently).
Me: You're too young to decide who you're going to marry. If you guys still want to get married when you're 20, we'll talk about it.
Daughter: You can't marry A. Boys can't marry boys. You have to marry a girl.
Me: Well, actually, boys can marry boys if they want to.
Daughter: Really?
Me: Yes
Daughter: But you can't marry your brother?
Me: No, you can't marry your brother.
Daughter: Why?
Me: You just can't.
Daughter: Why are you and daddy not going to be married anymore and live in the same house?
Me: Well, because it turns out that your daddy would rather be married to a boy.
Daughter: Oh. Like T?
Me: Yes, like T. They're not married right now, but maybe someday they will be.
Daughter: Oh. Ok.
Me: Do you understand?
Daughter: Yes.
Just a couple of weeks ago, we were pulling into the garage when I heard the following:
Daughter: Mom, do you want to marry a girl?
Me: I don't know if I'll ever get married again, but if I do, it will be to a boy.
Daughter: Oh. I thought maybe you would want to marry a girl.
Me: No honey, I would rather marry a boy.
Interesting, the way her mind is working through this information.
I worry for my kids. This is not the life I would have chosen for them, being shuffled back and forth between houses. It is difficult to keep the guilt at bay. I know that their father and I love them dearly and do everything we can to make their lives as "normal" as possible -- we maintain a good relationship with each other, spend holidays together, and do things as a family from time to time. But I worry. I know that someday, kids will make fun of them because their dad is gay. Kids will make fun of them for something, no matter what, because that's what kids do. But this is a tough one. I worry about prejudice and stereotypes. Will parents not let their kids sleep over at A's place because of fear and ignorance? While homosexuality is much more accepted than it used to be, there is still so much hate and ignorance in the world. I wish I could protect my children from it.
I guess the best I can do is try to give them the strength to deal with it and hope that they muddle through. November 26 LabelsMy daughter was diagnosed with autism just before her third birthday. This diagnosis was the culimination of a journey of visits to various specialists and experts that had started when she was an infant.
As a young baby, she was "jittery". When startled or excited, her arms would shake. Sometimes for long periods of time. For this she was sent to neurologists had bloodwork and EEGs. All normal. As she got older, she did all the normal things at the normal times -- rolling over, sitting up, crawling, walking. All right on schedule. Her first word ("meow", we had a few cats) was early. By the time her brother was born, when she was 16 months old, she could count to 13, spell her name, identify unusual shapes (like trapezoids and rhombuses) and she spoke well. We thought she was smart. She did have trouble with certain things -- transitions were really hard for her, but otherwise, she seemed fine. At 18 months, during a routine check up, I completed a 20 question handout asking "does your child do ..." things like "say 3 words", "point to show you something", etc. There were 3 questions related to pointing. As far as her father or I could remember, she never pointed at anything. If you were reading her a story, and asked "where's the cat" -- no response. If you pointed to the cat and said "what's this?", she would say "cat". Apparently, the lack of pointing was a concern. No pointing is an early marker for autism. The doctor asked me, "If she doesn't point, what does she do if she sees her juice cup on the counter and she wants it?" I said "she asks for it." It seemed obvious to me that a child with language did not need to point so much.
To follow up on this, our doctor did a little test to see if she should see a specialist. She failed to point at her baby brother during this test (although she did wave in his general direction). We were referred to a specialist. In the meantime, an infant development case worker started visiting us to play with her. It became obvious that V didn't have some of the skills that she should have (e.g. being able to put shapes into a shape sorter), but she had some skills that she shouldn't have (spelling her name). This is when we learned that maybe having advanced skills at an early age isn't such a good thing. She also continued with a variation of the "jitteriness" -- she flapped her arms and clenched her hands when she was excited. We saw pediatricians, psychologists, occupational therapists, speech-language pathologists, genetic specialists, psychometrists, more neurologists. Usually these people would, on the basis of one visit with a very annoyed 2 year old who knew the cafeteria sold mini Oreo cookies in bags and was just waiting for the appointment to end so she could get them, determine that she had some kind of severe developmental delay in speech or motor skills. I alternated between thinking they were crazy and thinking I was crazy.
Then, just before she turned 3, we got this diagnosis of autism. The hand flapping pushed her over the edge I guess. We were told that her intelligence was at the low end of normal, and there would be definite limits to what she would be able to do. I was flabbergasted. She seemed pretty normal to me, at least intelligence-wise. More visits to occupational therapists, speech therapists, case workers at home and at daycare.
There were times when I believed this diagnosis. When she'd see another child playing outside and want to go out to play, only to sit on the grass and stare at them. When she would play endlessly by herself while at a party where other kids played with each other. When she would have a fit over a minor change in routine. But other times, she seemed fine. She asked intelligent questions, developed normally academically. She was always a bit delayed in motor skills, but it became clear that if she put her mind to accomplishing something, she could. She just didn't want to do anything she didn't want to do (imagine that!)
When she was close to 4, we went to another neurologist. He asked me questions. Then he asked her questions. Then he told me "if I were you, I'd just leave her alone. I think she's fine." I loved this man for telling me this. For validating my belief that a few differences in personality do not mean a child needs to be labelled with a disorder.
Since then, I have left her alone. Occupational therapists and teachers wanted me to intervene with her pencil skills. She would hold her pencil in a fist. They wanted me to work with her to hold it "properly", make her use pencil grips, whatever. Her response -- to stop colouring or take off the pencil grip. My response "this is stupid. Who cares how she holds her pencil?"
She's 5 and a half now. She has decided on her own to alter her pencil grip. Her colouring is very good. She loves to draw and make up stories. She hears harmonies and listens more closely to music than anyone I know. She's in French immersion and doing well. With other children, she isn't the most outgoing kid in the world, but she has a few close friends. She loves to interact with adults. Nobody believes that she has autism. I'm not sure if she does.
But I notice the lingering signs. The preference to play alone. The arm flapping and hand clasping. And the thinking. She will pace, back and forth, sometimes for 30 minutes at a time. Finally, she told us that when she does this, she is "thinking". So whenever she paces, her brother will say "V's thinking again." For the last little while, I've been asking her what she's thinking about. Normally she won't tell me. She'll say "guess", or "I'll tell you when I'm done." Tonight, she finally told me. She thinks about stories. If she watched a movie for example, she thinks about that movie and makes up her own story based on it in her head. Right now, the only label I want to give her is "my sweet little girl". November 21 Mr. Bear's AdventureNote the time of this blog. It is 1:44am. I was getting the kids' school bags ready for tomorrow when what should I pull out of my son's bag, but homework! He is 4. He had homework. They are learning about bears. The homework is this: a little bear was sent home to spend the night. We were supposed to write a story about what the bear did with us and then my son is meant to draw a picture of the bear. This he will do in the morning. Not much of a story to tell about the bear since he sat in the school bag till 1:30am. However, I am the queen of making shit up, so here's the story.
Oh yeah, and lesson learned here. Check the bags as soon as we get home from school.
Mr. Bear's Adventure With Isaac
Mr. Bear rode from school to daycare on the bus with Isaac. He spent the afternoon in Isaac's school bag. On the way home, Mr. Bear got to share in Isaac's excitement over having a new big boy booster seat. Isaac shared his traditional snack of worm cake (granola bar) and beetle juice (apple juice) with Mr. Bear. Mr. Bear thought it was dee-licious. Then Mr. Bear helped Isaac and his mom make supper. Isaac showed Mr. Bear how to stir the pasta. After supper, Isaac and Mr. Bear watched "Little Bear" on TV. Mr. Bear said that was his favourite show. Isaac took Mr. Bear to bed with him and cuddled him up tight. Then they got up at 1:30am because Mr. Bear needed a snack of grapes and cheese. In the morning, Isaac and Mr. Bear decided to have grapes and cheese for breakfast too. They had lots of fun together. November 13 Oh CanadaAs performed by my 4 year old son.
Oh Can A Da
Our home and natlif land
True pate trot love
In all I sons command
Wif glowing hearts
We see dee rise
The true north strong and free
From far and wide
O Can A Da
We stand on R for dee
Gar keep our land
Glowing us and free
O Can A Da
We stand on R for dee
Oh Can A Da
We stand on R for deeeeeeeee |
|
|
