Irony

Despite my misgivings, Thing Two slept through the night without waking for ibuprofen and actually seemed a bit better this morning.  I still took him to the pediatrician, where his rapid strep test was negative, thereby becoming exhibit #1 for why people without medical training can't prescribe medicine and why antibiotics are not available over the counter in this country.  My educated guess appears to have been incorrect* and I freely admit it...the professional verdict was that he simply has a viral bug of some sort.

The twist is that I would have actually PREFERRED it to be strep, all things considered and a doctor more readily available, of course.  Those antibiotics work like a magic wand and kids go from droopy to all-systems-normal within hours of the first dose.  A viral bug, on the other hand, takes much longer to clear the system, so we are now looking at two to three days in which I am going to go batshit-freaking-crazy stuck in the house with this kid!

Oh well.  Such are the joys of motherhood.  Glad the kid is feeling a little better today, anyway.  At least he's eating now...when this particular kid refuses to eat, you KNOW there is something major going on!  He's the living embodiment of his great-grandfather in that respect: Grandpa always used to say that you could call him anything you wanted as long as you didn't call him late for dinner.  :)


*At least for now--I reserve the right to change my tune on this in three days, when the slow strep test results come in.

Eff You, Group B Strep

And eff what you do to small children, too.  There's one miserable little boy in my house tonight thanks to you.

And thanks to the fact that there are no doctors available after the morning hours on a Sunday around here other than those who work in the ER (sadly, I do understand the definition of the word "emergency" and this ain't one) it will be tomorrow before he is officially diagnosed and treated.  This is one of those times I really, truly wish that I had the ability to prescribe medication.  Until then, only hugs, juice, ibuprofen and sleep for the little guy....please think good thoughts for him.  :(

New Look

My hair is fine in texture, but there is a lot of it and it grows out of my head curly as hell--think ringlets.  For the past couple of years, I've worn it shoulder length, long enough to pull back in a knot on the back of my head, which I did virtually every day.  Convenient, especially for taekwondo; easy, but not a particularly attractive look on me because of my square jaw.

Tuesday morning I'd had enough (ENOUGH!) of feeling frumpy.  I texted the girlfriend who cuts my hair and she was able to fit me in that day: by the end of the appointment, I'd gone from shaggy to this.  (Of course this is not me, but it is the haircut!  Image from here.)



Cute and looks much better on me than a ponytail or knot.  The downside?  It actually requires some work in the mornings...mousse, curling iron, hairspray, all that fun stuff.  (Curly-hair bedhead is not for the faint of heart.)  But it looks better, and I feel better for looking better, so the time spent is worth it!


  

The Other Side Of The Coin

As posts like yesterday's would suggest, Thing Two's social and language deficiencies are definitely improving.  One very good thing about the fact that he has had the same case manager/social worker, speech therapists and neurodevelopmental pediatrician since he was four is that everyone involved has been with him long enough to remember what he was like back in the 'bad old days,' so all can take joy in his progress since then.  He's really doing remarkably well overall, except in one glaring area: his behavior toward me.  He can be the most stubborn, argumentative, contrary little pain in the ass in the universe when he feels like it, but he rarely directs this charming behavior toward anyone other than good ol' Mom.  Even my husband is largely exempt, which really pisses me off although I do understand it: I'm the primary caregiver, therefore I am the target.

He can clearly control the behavior: the school folks don't see it.  I know that it means that he's comfortable in the fact that I love him no matter what.  I know that he hates the fact that he needs help, and I know that he really is a my-way-or-the-highway kind of kid by nature and hates being told what to do (or made to do things that he really doesn't want to do) just on general principles.  I know that after holding it all together during the day, at home is where he's going to vent.  I KNOW all this.  But sometimes the knowing doesn't make it better, and I just get so frustrated.

Dammit, I was the one who started asking doctors if there was something wrong with him starting at his 18-month well visit.  I was the one who took him for his first formal evaluation at three and sobbed through the explanation of the results.  I was (and AM) the one who has taken him to every therapist's appointment he's ever had.  I was the one who worked with him at home for hours on end, every day of the week, while he was in preschool, with worksheets and special-ed video games and special-ed toys and anything his therapists thought might help him progress.  I'm the one who works on his homework with him, helps him study, and the one the teachers and therapists call with suggestions for things to be done at home (which I then do.)  I know that there are no medals that come with parenting--I am just doing my job the best I can and I'm not looking for any back-pats from anybody, believe me.  But to have spent the last six-plus years of my life focused so entirely on getting him out of the massive hole that the genepool dug for him and to then be the one that he turns on...it hurts a lot.  I won't lie.  It would be entirely irrational of me to expect him to be grateful, but the fact that I seem to be the villain in this show is getting really old.

His favorite words for me right now are "I don't want to."  Getting him to do anything requires an argument, no matter how politely I ask or how many times I warn him that a transition is coming.  When he's upset with me, he'll deliberately avoid giving me a kiss goodbye at the bus stop in the morning, just because he knows that it makes me sad.  If I were guessing, he's just trying to have some control in a universe that frustrates him mightily and in which he feels powerless, but I'm hoping that one of these days he will figure out that I am actually on his team and not the enemy!

  

     

Counting Our Blessings

We had Thing Two's IEP meeting this morning.

For those among you fortunate enough not to know that acronym, it stands for Individualized Education Program.  As defined by federal regulations, these programs are tailored for each individual child with disabilities and describe in detail what all teachers and service providers will be doing over the course of the year for that child to help them to learn more effectively.

Often IEP meetings become battlegrounds, since special ed costs money and a lot of it.  Budget-sensitive schools are under pressure to keep costs down, while parents and guardians push for additional costly services for their kids.  I've read horror stories from both sides of the table and they generally end up involving lawyers and getting really, really ugly.  Thankfully, Thing Two's IEP meetings are not like that at all.

It was difficult to get him classified initially, because his disability is severe in one area but he is otherwise at or well above grade level.  We pushed because we knew he needed help, and eventually prevailed.  The second day he was at the school, the teacher called and said that her evaluations suggested that we should add a third weekly session of speech therapy and also OT to his IEP, which we took as a good sign that they were actually going to go above and beyond in trying to help this child out from behind the eight ball, not just do the bare minimum required by law.  In the five years since then, the team has consistently showed that they care about him and want him to succeed.  And they have continued to add to his IEP where they think it would be useful: with his language skills radically improved, last year they started him on a small-group social program without us even having to ask for it.

For next year, he is getting absolutely everything we could have hoped for.  Partial aide support for core subjects (meaning that the aide supports multiple kids--he doesn't need 1:1 help) just to help keep him focused and redirect and answer questions when needed.  Speech and the small social group are continuing.  And he has now outgrown the OT!  No more of that necessary except where needed for consults regarding any personal space issues.  Slowly but surely, he is progressing toward whatever 'normal' might be, although we have a ways to go yet (and might not ever get there completely; who knows.)  According to his teacher, his grades in all subjects are excellent and his classroom behavior is generally appropriate and not distracting...hallelujah!!  Reading comprehension continues to be an issue, not surprisingly, but we're working on it.  At any rate, those meetings are always very stressful for us even though they are collegial (who wants to be faced with a group of people telling you all the things your kid is having trouble with??) but today's was very positive and encouraging and I am SO relieved I cannot even begin to tell you.  Whew.

   





        

And More Power To Her

A friend of mine announced her pregnancy the other day.   She already has three kids ranging in age from ten or eleven down to five, one of whom has fairly significant special needs.

If I were guessing, she's my age (40) or a year or two older, and she works at least part-time.  I sure as heck don't have the energy at this stage of the game to go back to being up all night with a newborn and hauling around the diaper bag/food/stroller etc etc etc...I sure hope that she does!  I am very ashamed to admit that "Are you nuts??" was dueling with "Congratulations!" in my head when she made her announcement, although I did behave myself externally.  ;)

And no, I have no idea if this was deliberate or accidental and I ain't asking.   Either way, there's a little one coming and it doesn't matter...may this child be happy and healthy and may my friend find the strength to keep up with it!

Spring Has Sprung

The grass is finally ris, and the birdies is singing their little hearts out, both on and off the wing.

The dog and I have been walking together more lately now that the weather is not so frigid.  When she sees me put my hiking boots on, she comes running, eager to be included in the outing.  One of our favorite routes takes us by an old churchyard, a favored burying place for some of the founding families of the area.  Most of the inscriptions on these stones are so old that they are very hard to read.

Today's walk took us down by the creek, which actually has rapids at the moment courtesy of the weekend's rains!  We'd looked for a geocache off a nearby hiking trail, me doggedly climbing a very steep slope, peering amidst the rocks and tree roots as I went, and her joyously bounding ahead of me.  Find successfully made, we rewarded ourselves with a stroll along flat pavement, admiring the water views as we went.  

This is a birdhouse!!  Love the construction.  It sits on top of a tall tree stump across the road from the creek.  

Has there ever been a better name for a farm??  The sky was flat and dull this afternoon, making it difficult for me to get good pictures, but this homemade sign says "Achy Acres."

After all the snow, it makes me smile to see the flowers coming back in my own garden, the hyacinths (still in bud) and the very first of the daffodils below!

For whatever reason, the critters don't bother either hyacinths or daffodils, but most other spring flowers get munched right up.  Crocuses and tulips in particular must be some sort of delicacy: so many times over the years I've come out of a morning to find those bitten off at ground level.  I put in tulip bulbs by the dozens in the front yard when we first moved in: having learned my lesson, now I only bother to plant them inside the walled garden (five feet of wire fencing with an extra two feet or so of chicken wire surrounding the bottom of the fencing to keep the baby rabbits out, sneaky little so-and-sos that they are.)

So here, there is finally hope for warmth and sunshine and greenness!!  Hoping your yards and neighborhoods are shaking the winter barrenness as well.