Anxiety is a Beast

Anxiety is a beast. If I had to draw it, my anxiety beast would be dark purple and black, with sharp claws and pointy teeth. It would have spiky, somewhat matted fur…and it would stink. (You know, the wavy lines…)

Anxiety has the power to suffocate, inspire fear, deprive sleep, deprive experience, hinder social prowess, and prevent growth. It is insidious. It is ugly. It is nasty. I try to fight it…to keep it under control, but it is difficult, especially this time of the year.

The end of any chapter in life causes some anxiety. But the end of the school year?! It’s one of the worst offenders! Jake is so off kilter. It’s causing him to be more forgetful, more short-tempered, more clingy. He was making progress again…but now?? He’s stymied in this ugly place.

Last night he had lacrosse practice. He griped about going–for the first time this season. He just wanted to sit and watch tv–the familiar, predictable past-time of his. I made him go. The coach had the boys doing laps. Jake melted down. It was not pretty. I was torn between letting the coach handle it and running out there, and dragging him home. I restrained myself…and Jake calmed down and began practice again.

This morning Jake had a tantrum over a water bottle. I prepared it and told him to take it. He balked at it. Temps were forecast to be near 90, and there is no a/c in his school. He needed it! After some encouragement, he put it in his backpack, grumbling all the way.

Tate is a mess. He’s not sleeping (see yesterday’s post). He’s fighting his therapists. He whines for a good 20 minutes (even with 10 and 5-minute warning) at dinner. He has tried (unsuccessfully) to talk me into staying home from school. He has 5 days left, for goodness’ sake! If I ask him questions, he avoids. If I want to play with him, he stims and perseverates. He is mostly “himself” in the early hours before school, or when we go to the park and he swings.

I’m so scattered. The end of the school year brings anxiety…the unfamiliar…the “official” end of the old and the beginning of the new. We have the “last” of this, that, and the other. I have to adapt to a big schedule change.I have to get everyone ready for their repsective summer activities. (Aaand,there may also be some tears shed over the prospect of being with the kids for 12 weeks. Yes, they have plenty of activities and what-not, but still…).

And, of course, there’s Cole…he feeds on all of our unrest and contributes the only way a soon-to-be-three-year-old knows how: he’s naughty. I swear that child’s ears are broken! His increased need for direction, attention, and love just drains my already depleted stores of everything.

We’ll power through the next week and we’ll make it through…we always do…but I am just so done. And in need of a break.

Who Needs Sleep?

This post is written in stream of consciousness today. I am wiped out…exhausted.

Like many other children, mine are affected by the uncertainty of the end of the school year. There is so much anxiety…different routines, different teachers, less structure, etc. Because anxieties are high, probability of sleep at our house is low.

The past month, Tate has fought going down to sleep until almost 9 pm. He is then up in the middle of the night–and in our room. He wakes up around 5:30. I don’t know how he’s still vertical.

Jake’s issue is that regardless of the time he goes to bed–8 pm, 9 pm, 11 pm–he is almost always up around 5:15. He’s totally up and awake with the birds. He announces his trip to the bathroom, insists on coming in and laying in our bed, clears his throat several 1000 times, and then gets up and does his walk-slap-clap routine in our bedroom and bathroom.

Most mornings they leave me alone and converge on Hubz’s side of the bed. He becomes a jungle gym, slide, pillow, etc. Today, he must have paid them a bribe, as they would not leave me alone. Tate started to use my ribcage as his pivot point out of the bed–OUCH! Jake was in my face, pulling at my hair–because it was in my face. (Remind me to teach him about bedhead–again.) Then they were both touching me, pestering me about my phone and tv.

I rolled over, trying to avoid the obnoxiousness…only to realize it was 6 am. Time to shower. Off I went…at least I could enjoy those 20 minutes of peace. I got dressed, and started getting the boys in gear. I thought maybe I could get downstairs with just the older 2, but that’s when Cole’s Mom! Mom! Mom! Alert went off. *sigh*

My life these days gives new meaning to the old adage: no rest for the weary. Yawnnnn…..Snzzzzz…Please pass the caffeine!

Superior Summer Plans?

Yesterday I was sitting at our YMCA, aka “The Y”, and was watching Jake during swimming lessons. Tate was with me, playing a game on my phone. Cole was in the childcare room.

To back-track, Jake does swimming lessons not so much because he can’t swim (he is quite a fish, actually), but because it helps him organize and gain coordination and confidence. He loves being in the water.

Ok, back to my story….we were sitting there and two other women sat next to us. They have kids around the same age as mine. The one has a son who is on Jake’s lacrosse team. The other has a son and a daughter right in the age range of my older 2 boys. We said polite hello’s and went about our own activities.

As I sat and played word games with Tate, which work on his speech/language skills, these other 2 women talked about their plans for the summer. They were like 2 teenagers, who talked just loud enough that the rest of us could hear all about how fantastic they are. You know what I mean…. I have to say, must be nice to have ridiculous money.

(I am paraphrasing what I heard. Some words may be different…but you get the gist.)

Mom A: So, we’re going to our beach house for a month. Then, we have a week here, then we go with our friends from (nearby affluent town) to their house for a week. I am putting the kids in day camp here at the Y for a week, because I have stuff to get done. And then it’s time for football training. (FYI, football is HUGE around here.)

Mom B: Wow! You’re busy. We’re going to Traverse City (MI), and we’re doing a long weekend in California. The kids can’t wait to go swimming…they are in the water for 8 hours a day, I swear. We’ll hit the shops, and can’t wait to go to all of the cute local restaurants…sit out on the patios, drinking my wine…this one place has an area where the kids go play. It’s fantastic. We’re opening our pool this weekend, too….

Mom A: Oh, sounds great. Have you got your bathing suit yet?

Mom B: Ugghhh, yes. I need to lose some weight.

Mom A: oh, you look great!

Mom B: Oh, thanks. Hey, we should have you guys on the boat before you leave! The kids can play on the beach, we can have our wine…Husband can grill out. It will be great!

Mom A: Yes! We must do that! I could have my friend cater it, if you want–she’s like Martha Stewart!

They then proceeded to talk about needing massages and mani-pedi’s and favorite stylists at the local spa. Mom A dropped the name of a few boutiques. Mom B complained about her tailor. Mom A made a joke about needing a job to fund her fun stuff. Mom B said that she thought about it, but it just isn’t worth it because it would bump them into the next tax bracket, and ugh who wants that?!

I was about to roll my eyes so hard that it would have been heard, but I used restraint. I just exhaled deeply.

I wasn’t jealous of the other women….I was just amazed by their behavior during their conversation. Like they had to prove to each other how awesome they were. Or to the rest of us. All I was worried about was making sure that my kid didn’t start his potty-talk echolalia in super-loud volume….I am in such a different place than those women.

Would I love to have a summer house or rent a place for a couple of weeks?? Sure…but I just have other priorities right now. Our fabulous summer plans include therapy and summer school and daycamp. And time at the local beach, spraypark, neighborhood park, the zoo, and our own backyard. We will roast marshmallows, and grill out. We’ll get ice-cream, and go for walks around the block while we lick popsicles and allow the juice to dribble down our chins. We’ll have sleepovers in the basement and scooter races in the driveway. It isn’t expensive or glamorous…but it will be fun.

A Little Push

Yesterday was rough. Like throwing-in-the-towel-on-parenting rough. Cole had tested me all. Day. Long. He ran into parking lots. He didn’t listen. He laughed at me. He lost privileges. He sat in time out. I wanted to cry.

My nerves were shot. My patience gone. It all came to an ugly head at the park last night… where an entire U9 team of boys and some of their parents saw me lose it. Not pretty. Not pretty at all.

I am ever grateful to Hubz, who swooped in, grabbed the offender (Cole), and while chuckling a bit, told me to go play with Tate while he took Cole home for insubordination. (Hubz reminded me, using logical arguments was not going to work with a 2 year-old. Which I knew, but I was not in a happy place.)

So, they left, and Tate asked to be pushed on the swing. I obliged, trying to clear my head of the ridiculousness that had just occurred. We were chatting a bit when a boy about his size came over and sat on the swing next to him. He actually asked Tate if he could swing there. Without looking at the boy, Tate said sure.

I pushed Tate again, and then stepped away to watch Jake. In those moments, something amazing happened. Tate interacted with the boy on the swing. Awkwardly, but appropriately.
“What’s your name?”
“I, Tate.”
“Tate, pump like this….out, in, out, in…”
“Yeah. I need a push, Mom.”

I walked back. I asked the little boy his name. “Z” I told Tate he could have one push, but then he should pump (he can do it) like Z.
“Can I have underdog underwear push, please?”
“You got it.”
“Wheeeeeee!”
“Um, Tate’s mom, I wish I could have an underdog push.”

I gave Z a big underdog, and then watched as he encouraged Tate to pump. And then it happened…..upon Z’s urging, Tate started pumping! Ohmygoshitwassofreaking awesome!!

From there, Z and Tate climbed on the play structure. Together. Z would make a statement, and Tate would respond. For serious!!

“Mom. Mommy! Come push us, here!” Tate shouted from the merry-go-round.

I pushed them and these boys laughed together. They interacted. They were having fun.

From the merry-go-round they went to the slides and monkey bars. Z asked Tate if he wanted to play. Tate said yes. To Z. While establishing eye contact. 
The boys chased each other over the bridge and down slides. They played on the monkey bars. Z initiated monkey sounds–’cuz they were monkeys. Tate followed. He then made a monkey sound and directed it at Z. Z made one back.

“Look at us here, Mommy, We’re monkeys. Ooh-ooh, aah, aah.”
Z chimed in with his own monkey sound.

I felt a lump in my throat. Tears welled in my eyes. I took a deep breath. Cleared my throat.

“Yes, yes you are, Tater Tot.”

They played for about 5 more minutes. It was all kinds of wonderful. Eventually, Hubz and Cole came back…and a few neighbors were with them. They joined Tate and Z. Tate, exhausted from the social interaction, quietly retreated to the swings again.

Hubz pushed him, and I excitedly told him about the playtime. We high fived each other…and Tate. Tate ran back to join the other children. He was a little more on the periphery this time, but still in the mix.

He actually tried a part of the apparatus that had caused great anxiety in the past. Our neighbor’s daughter helped him by talking him through it. When he finished, she was the first to praise him. More high-fives!

For a neurotypical child that was just another day at the park. For Tate, though, that was a milestone. A big one. Weeks of working with therapists at the park, of us playing with him and his brothers there all came down to this… and what seemed like such a little push from me was a huge leap for him.

Almost Wordless Wednesday

I was spoiled by homemade gifts and cards this Mother’s Day.

Here is Jake’s handiwork.

A card

The message inside

The “wrapper” for my gift

(That’s my van, some monster butterflies, some hearts and flowers.)

My gift

Yes, it’s on my keyring.

Tate made me a milk-carton planter

And he made a necklace on Monday for “n” day at school, and he said I could have it.

So, I got some great treasures. Totally worth all of the day-to-day junk I deal with….

Kids Say the Darndest Things….

I know that this post most likely will only entertain me…but I want to document a few of the amusing phrases that have slipped through my children’s lips lately.

Let’s talk about Jake. Somewhere on TV he heard the phrase, “Snug as a bug in a rug” in a Southern dialect. He now makes up these weird phrases and says them in a Southern twang…”worms are wiggly as a bug in mud”. “I’m wet as a prickly fish in a puddle.” “I’ll shush you like a slammer-jammer.” For serious. He’s said these things. When I’ve questioned their origin he has told me he created them. Observe:

Me: Where did you get that from?
Jake: My brain! (Duh, you ignorant woman!)

Jake also uses the phrase “headbutt slam” way too often. It’s fairly self-explanatory, but I really wonder why he needs to use it when I ask if he’s finished a chore. Observe:

Me: Jake, did you put your cleats in the shoe bin?
Jake: Mom, do I need to headbutt slam you?
Me: (in my mind- wtf?!) A simple yes or no works…

Moving on to Tate. He just cracks me up. While his spontaneous speech continues to evolve and progress, he does have a lot of scripts and some echolalia. What’s funny is when the scripts and echolalia are slightly different from what has actually been said. Observe:

Tv commercial for Capri Sun: Respect it! Respect the pouch!
Tate: Expect it! Expect the couch!

Me: Gross! That’s disgusting!
Tate: Gurrwoss! That’s discussing!

Me: Mmm! Delicious!
Tate: Mmm! Dishes! (Although, he’s actually saying delicious more and more!)

Veggie Tales: If you like to talk to tomatoes….if a squash can make you smile, if you like to waltz with potatoes, up and down the produce aisle…have we got a show for you.
Tate: Ip you like to talk to tomatoes, ip a squash can make you smile, ip you like to walk with potatoes, up and down the puppy’s smile, have we got a show for you.
(This is better when he’s belting it out at the top of his lungs, doing his Tater dance and beaming a huge smile…it’s infectious…)

Tate: Gimme that chicken nuggets, NOW!
Me: Whoa! Can you ask differently?
Tate: Gimme those chicken nuggets.
Me: How about a polite word?
Tate: Please. Gimme those chicken nuggets. NOW!
Me (inner head slap…) Can you ask nicely?
Tate: I said please.

Cole. Ah, my sweet Cole. He is two-months-shy-of-three. He is the most verbal of my 3 boys. He has great conversation skills. But, being just-shy-of-three, he has those adorable misprnounciations that are sweet.

Cole: Can I play with the train traps?
Me: the train tracks? Sure.
Cole: Thanks, Mommy! Train traps are cool!

Cole: Can I get papas at Cossco?
Me: You want pizza at Costco?
Cole: mm-hmm.
Me: Can you ask nicely?
Cole: Pwease!?
Me: Please!
Cole: Thank you!

Cole: My bird day is in Joom.
Me: Your birthday is in June.
Cole: My birthday is in June. I get cake and presents.
Me: Sure.
Cole: And woo-woo trucks.
Me: Fire trucks.
Cole: Fi-wer trucks. And Lego dudes.
Me: Fire trucks and Lego dudes. Yep.

Cole: I wanna watch Doc mcstuppins.
Me: Doc McStuffins.
Cole: yes.
Me: How do you ask?
Cole: Pwease.
Me: Please.
Cole: Welcome.

I just totally giggled. At my own post. Ahh, well, at least I amused myself and recorded these for posterity!

Whirlwind Weekend

We were on the go for much of this weekend. I am exhausted. I figured I could provide the highlights…

1. We survived the Walk for Autism Speaks event! It was chilly, damp, drizzly, and gray, but we did it. Tate managed thanks to our phones (and Playdoh commercials) and big puddles that we allowed him to jump in during the walk. Heaven!

2. The teams of volunteers who put on the walk did a great job. Just a little confused by the really loud bands. It’s telling when many of the walkers are wearing sound-reducing headphones, are covering their ears, and are complaining about the noise. Wayyyy too much sensory overload.

3. After a rough transition into the restaurant for lunch, Tate noshed on a grilled cheese & french fries while watching Mario Brothers clips on youtube. He was quiet and happy. Cole, on the other hand, was “this close” to being sold to the gypsies. No nap + no routine = hell to pay

4. We played outside with the neighbor kids..and our boys, despite the day that was so not typical or routine, were able to hold it together and enjoyed their friends. When children started to meltdown around “that time”, it was not our 3 boys.

5. I got some beautiful handmade cards and gifts on Mothers’ Day. Jake was incredibly proud of the keychain he designed. Tate proudly showed off the milk-carton planter he created. Hubz got me a charm for my Pandora bracelet and a new lens for the camera.

6. Tate was a rockstar during Jake’s lacrosse tournament. He played well, watched Jake, and was well-behaved. Cole, well, he was a typical almost-three-year-old. At least he didn’t spill anything or make it out onto the field.

7. I visited my mom’s grave site. It was sunny, warm, and a perfect afternoon. She would have been relishing it…I was glad to have some quiet time to talk to her in my heart…and to smile about some of my favorite memories. The 2nd Mothers’ Day without her was much harder than the first…sigh

8. Hubz made me a delicious dinner of grilled veggies and shrimp. Mm! I am spoiled.

9. Hubz cleaned up after the boys’ destruction of the basement, so I didn’t have to do that this morning. He then gave me a nice back rub as we watched Game of Thrones. Best. Hubby. Ever.

10. I got to spend time with the 4 guys who make my world go round…and that couldn’t have been more perfect.

Lowlights of the weekend:
- Cole’s ears apparently don’t work. I hate it when he doesn’t listen!
- Missed my mom–a lot.
- Tate woke up at 1:30 am today…and was up on and off the rest of the wee hours of the morning. The bags under my eyes could hold hundreds of dollars worth groceries. Ughhhh.

It Was a Field Day!

A couple of weeks ago Tate came home with a cute flier in his backpack. “Please join us for Kindergarten Field Day and Mother’s Day Picnic”. Below the header was a paragraph that rambled about having fun with your kindergartener, eating lunch on a blanket, and so on.

I felt a familiar pit in my stomach. You know,the one that forms when your heart wants one thing, and your head knows another. Special time with my kiddo…but a day that is non-routine, with 40 other kindergarteners, some relay games, in a gym with weird lighting…yeeshh.

Even though I figured it would be rough, I sent in our RSVP. His teacher prepped him. I prepped him. We discussed it and the teacher showed the class pictures from last year. We did our part.

I arrived a few minutes early. As I entered the gym, I saw a mom whose son is in Tate’s class. We sat and chatted. We talked to a few other moms. Many of the children who started the Early Childhood program with Tate are moving on to mainstream classrooms. It is bittersweet. Tate will still be in self-contained first grade, but I know that is the best option for him right now.

The children filtered into the gym. Tate came in and waved to me! I was pleasantly surprised. I was even more surprised when he actively participated in the activities. My son, the boy with sensory processing disorder, was handling and coping with the chaos in the gym.

He did the scooter races–on his tummy! He of the vestibular disregulation was able to stay oriented and finish his race. He also did races with one foot in a shoe box, and a potato sack race!! Was this my kid?!

He smiled for pictures. He said hi to his “friends’” moms. He sat and had lunch with me in the gym..on the floor…in the harsh lights. He conversed–in his way.

I texted Hubz. Our kid, who 6 months ago would have melted down during this much activity, due to overstimulation, did it! With a few accommodations, planning, and following his lead, our Tater Tot successfully participated with mainstream kindergarteners for 2 hours.

It truly was a field day…and I don’t need anything else for Mother’s Day…I got my gift in seeing Tate enjoy a social event and being able to hold it together. His progress gave me the gift of hope today…and I couldn’t ask for anything more.

That’s Fresh

Some days you are the winshield. Some days you are the bug. Today, I am the bug–splat!  – My facebook status yesterday @ 4:30-ish

Yesterday afternoon we were doing our mad dash to OT. Tate was oddly quiet. He suddenly said, “oooohhh, I’m so sick.” I asked if he was ok. He used his script, “I’m fine.” Then, he wasn’t. He asked for a paper towel and proceeded to puke all over himself.

We pulled into the OT’s parking lot, and I cleaned him up. After wiping off the majority of his gunk, I ran in and told our OT that Tate was covered in puke and I had no other clothes. We cancelled the session.

On the way home, Tate fell fast asleep. I figured he would. Jake shouted from the back seat, “Mom, that stinks!” I validated his opinion, but we were stuck with it until we got home.

As I pulled into the driveway, happy as all get-out that we could, indeed, get out of the smelly car, Tate awoke and continued his meltdown. Fun, fun times..

Eventually, we made it into the house. I cleaned up Tate, and he changed his clothes. He wanted to play with his Mario game. I asked Jake to come into the kitchen so I could quiz him on his spelling words. He sassed me. I told him to cut it out. He came and sat down, and we started reviewing his words.

Somewhere in the action of quizzing Jake on his spelling words, he got fed up. He growled at me. I gave him a first warning. He was in a mood…

Me: Spell short-er, shorter.
J: no, you spell shorter. (Sticks tongue out.)
Me: this is your 2nd warning. Please spell shorter.
J: (in mocking-tone) This is your second warn-
Me: That’s enough.
J: (mocking tone) That’s enough.
Me: snort. Giggle. Ahem. You can go to your room.
J: (smiling because I was stupid enough to laugh) You go to your room.
Me: Seriously. Room. Now. (My smile was gone.)
J: seriously. Roo-
Me: do it again, and you will lose tv for tonight.
J: Do it again, and you’ll lose tv…
Me: We’re done. Go to your room.
J: No!
Me: then go in the other room and sit in the chair for 10 minutes. Oh, and no TV.
J: No fair!
Me: GO!

Jake went into the other room. Cole followed to see his brother in time out. I was mid-summons to get Cole back into the kitchen when a terrible wail ensued. I ran into the family room to see Cole in a puddle on the floor, and Jake willing him to get up and not cry.

Me: What happened?!
Jake: (defeated) I kicked him…in the head.
Me. Go. To. Your. Room. NOW!

Jake scampered up the stairs. I cradled Cole, who said, between sobs, that he needed to go to his room, too. Tate, also, had to go to his room. I said no. I gave Jake 5 minutes, and went in to talk to him. Hubz got home and cleared the other 2 out of the room.

I asked Jake why he thought I was upset. He accurately stated 3 of his actions that upset me. I asked how he felt. He said he was sorry, and he gave me a hug. I thanked him for his apology. We got ready to go downstairs. He asked for a show. I reminded him that there was no tv. He called me an ugly cow. (Whuck?! My sweet, empathetic child called me an ugly cow!?!?) Oh, hell, no….

I looked him in the eye and said no tv means no tv. I left him shuddering in my cold wake. He was also deprived of his Nintendo Ds and any other electronics. He could stay in our yard, outside, or he could read a book.

When asked why we were being “so mean”, I told him next time he thinks about using hurtful words or kicking his brother in the head, he’ll remember the time he lost his tv and electronics privileges…and he’ll think twice about doing it again. He knew exactly why he lost his privileges…

So, yes, I was the bug yesterday….and he was totally fresh…and not in a good way. *sigh*

Social Progress

We continue to see progress with Tate. He continues to achieve and notch  towards meeting goals. It can be painfully slow, at times. Especially in social situations. Tate still struggles mightily with like-age peers.

Yesterday, though, I saw a glimmer of hope.

We were at our YMCA while Jake was doing his swim lessons. Cole went to play in the childcare room, so Tate and I were hanging out. I let him play some of his Mario game. Then, he initiated a walk. I thought that was a great idea.

We meandered through the Y. I even let him take the “alligator” up to the top floor, and get out in the lobby, where the “alligator” deposits inhabitants out on the opposite side from which they enter. (This dual-sided “alligator” captivates Tate.)

At one point we stopped to play with a foosball table. Instead of stimming with the rods, Tate wanted to try to play. He had seen some older boys playing when we started our walk. So, we played. For about 5 minutes. He tired of the game and decided to use the restroom.

A gaggle of girls spotted us. “Tate!” “Tate!” “Oh, hiiiiiiii, Tate!” Tate got shy, and burrowed his head in my side.
Tate, when someone we know says hi, we should say hi to them.
Tate, keeping his gaze down, raised his hand and whispered a hello. I said hi to his admirers.

When Tate was in the bathroom, I asked the leader of the group if she was in the kindergarten class at his school. She said yes, and that she sees Tate on Tuesdays for gym and library. I thanked her for confirming that Tate knew the girls.

She asked me why he doesn’t like to talk. I had to smile. Tate does like to talk…just grapples with the whole social talk thing. I explained that talking to other people is difficult for Tate. He’s shy, and doesn’t always know the right thing to say. She nodded.

Tate popped out of the boys’ restroom and got a drink. By then, the gaggle was together and again said hi to Tate. He sat on the ground–a combination of anxiety and frustration. I asked him to stand up. He did! I asked if he could say “goodbye”. He was unable to establish eye contact with them, but he said, “Bye.”

As we left, one of the girls wondered outloud as to why Tate doesn’t want to talk. The ringleader stepped up and told her that Tate was shy.

It may not have seemed like much, but Tate did something huge yesterday. He was able to tolerate a social interaction without a meltdown, without shoo’ing away his peers, and without me doing it for him. Score!

Later, I told him I was proud of him for saying hi and goodbye. He beamed that beautiful smile and flashed those playful eyes my way. No wonder the gaggle of girls was so intent upon getting his attention!