Family Archives - Page 10 of 113

Sep 24, 2013

A Birthday Without A Party Is Still Fun

September 24, 2013 By Christina

The day happened so quickly. I knew it was coming, but I think I kept pushing it from the front of my mind because I didn’t want to admit that my oldest daughter had reached another year older.

But on Saturday, it happened: Cordelia turned nine.

Nine. I’m still feeling disbelief. How could she be that old already? Where has the time gone?

Along with trying to forget that she’s now a year away from double-digit birthdays, we didn’t plan a birthday party. Cordy wavered whenever we asked her about it: sometimes she wanted a big party at a fun location, sometimes she wanted a small gathering at our house, and sometimes she wasn’t sure she wanted anyone around for her birthday.

It didn’t help that a lot of family were going to be busy on Saturday, meaning she’d be disappointed if they weren’t able to be at her party. And we didn’t have a lot of names of other kids to invite. She doesn’t have a lot of friends at school, and the couple of kids she occasionally mentions are kids we’ve never managed to meet.

So the decision was made that instead of spending a lot of money on a party that might possibly be poorly attended and make her feel bad, we’d instead declare it Cordy Day and let her plan out the activities for her immediate family for the day. (Within reason, of course.)

We already had a flaw in the plan when we woke up. It was raining, so Cordy’s scheduled soccer practice was cancelled. However, that gave her more time to play video games in the morning – crisis averted.

Cordy asked to go to Chuck E. Cheese for lunch, so we made our visit to the local mouse. We dined on pizza, played a bunch of games together, and Cordy rode a couple of the kid rides while there.

She was a blur of motion.

No official birthday party, so no attention on her, no awkward crown to wear, no one to sing to her, and no pressure to go do the Ticket Blaster (which she’s scared of) or dance with Chuck E. Cheese. She left happy, having traded in her game tickets for a trinket she liked.

After that, we drove back home to enjoy some birthday cake. Per Cordy’s request, no singing Happy Birthday, just candles, telling her happy birthday, and letting her blow the candles out.

The cake was dye-free other than some of the blue decorations on only one half of the cake. Cordy doesn’t want white cake, so the blue flowers were only on the white half, leaving her a chocolate cake that was entirely dye-free.

Once we were all on a sugar high (Aaron’s sugar high coming from gluten-free cupcakes, since he couldn’t eat the cake), we went to the next stop on Cordy’s itinerary: the zoo. The Columbus Zoo has a temporary exhibit called Dinosaur Island and she wanted to ride it one more time before it’s gone, as well as get a stuffed blue dinosaur. We granted both of those requests.

She pretended to look horrified when I pointed the camera at her.

I’ll always agree to take her photo with Pepe if I can keep creating collages like this.

By this point, it was late afternoon. The final agenda item of the day was a trip to Movie Tavern, which if you’re not familiar with it is a movie theater that also serves full meals during the movie. We ate dinner while watching Percy Jackson: Sea of Monsters. Cordy had just finished reading the second book early last week and was excited to see the movie. She got a brownie sundae at the end of the movie because it was her birthday.

After the movie, it was a short drive home with Cordy listening to her favorite songs from my iPhone. She was smiling, content with the flow of the day. She told us again what a great birthday it was as she crawled into bed, hugging her new blue dinosaur tight. It was a fairly low-key day, with no large celebrations or party favors – just a family driving around the city, enjoying a variety of activities.

It was the perfect ninth birthday for Cordy.

Filed Under: Cordy

Sep 19, 2013

Mira’s Fashion Mantra: Always Look Fabulous

September 19, 2013 By Christina

I was never into fashion as a kid. I had colors I preferred and liked some graphic t-shirts over others, but generally I wore whatever was in my dresser. And aside from a brief period with jelly bracelets and those plastic charm bracelets, I didn’t wear jewelry or other accessories. Having to wear more than the minimum needed to get by seemed like too much work when there was playing to get to. Besides, wouldn’t want a necklace or scarf to catch on a branch when I was tree climbing or diving out of swings or flipping over monkey bars.

Mira, however, seems to have the recessive gene. The more accessories, the better: hats, necklaces, bracelets, hair clips, rings, makeup, bright socks…she loves them all. Rarely do we get out the door each day without her asking if she can wear one accessory, or more if I’ll allow it. She’s still six, though, and easily loses those accessories, so I limit how much she can wear.

That doesn’t stop her from taking inventory of everything in her jewelry box regularly, looking over all of her shiny pretty objects and trying them on to make sure they still fit. I still wonder how she got the “girly” gene that I missed, but it’s cute watching how happy she gets when she dresses up.

The other night, I tucked Mira into bed as usual. We leave her light on in her room while she falls asleep, then turn it off when Aaron and I go to bed. When I opened her door to turn her light off, I noticed her radio was turned up much louder than when we left the room. This is also a common scenario – she sometimes likes to relax with louder music before she falls asleep.

Then I looked over at her and realized she didn’t look the same as when we put her to bed:

Flower garland, ring, bracelet, and (hard to see) two necklaces.

I guess she felt the need to play dress up after hours, and fell asleep before she could put it all back.

In the morning I asked her why she had so much jewelry on when she fell asleep.

Mira gave a shy grin and replied, “What? I wanted to be pretty for sleeping!”

That’s my girl: always striving for awesome.

Filed Under: Mira

Sep 12, 2013

Open House Night at School

September 12, 2013 By Christina

Two nights ago our elementary school held their annual Open House, where we found out about plans for the year, got pitched for PTA volunteer work, and had the chance to meet the teachers and see the classrooms. We go to this every year, even though we generally have met the teachers and know a lot about the classroom long before this date.

This year’s event wasn’t as well attended, probably due to the heat. The school has no air conditioning and is a brick building with small windows, which transforms it into a brick oven by the end of a 90+ degree day. Even after sunset it was still over 90 degrees inside the building.

Mira had gymnastics scheduled at the same time, so only Cordy and I were at the school. We walked in and strolled the halls before things got started. Well, I strolled. Cordy skipped and bounced down the halls, despite the heat. Her teachers, current and previous, were nearby. One asked, “So is she always this chipper?”

“Generally,” I responded, “Unless she’s had a long day and there’s no one around but close family.”

“Does she wake up this way?”

“Yep, she springs out of her room at 6am sharp every morning, fully awake and ready to go.” I could see the weary look to my response. I understood. I added, “She doesn’t get that from me at all. I move slowly in the morning.” They murmured similar sentiments to waking up.

Mira’s teacher then saw me and asked, “Is it just Cordy with you?” I nodded. “Mira must be at gymnastics then.”

“Oh, did she tell you she had gymnastics tonight?” I asked.

She smiled. “No, but she talks about it ALL the time, so I guessed that the only thing that would keep her away from school would be gymnastics!”

It seems she already has my younger daughter figured out.

We sat through the PTA meeting, then set off to see the classrooms. Cordy was giving me the guided tour as if I had never been there before:

“This is our school library, where we can check out books. It has fiction and nonfiction sections.”

“Thank you, Cordy, but I’ve been here several times, remember?”

“And this is my teacher, Mrs. C. Mrs. C, this is my mom, but you can call her Christina.”

“Yes, sweetie, we’ve met before. You were there as well.”

I gave up and played along for awhile, pretending it was all new to me.

Her reading teacher told me that Cordy continues to be an advanced reader, but she’d really like for Cordy to choose more challenging books in the classroom. When given the option, she’ll always go for the easier books because they’re familiar characters and storylines. It’s true, most of what she reads is far too easy for her. We all question if she’s even reading the content considering the speed with which she turns pages. But if you quiz her, she can usually tell you what happened. I agreed and promised to nudge her towards higher level books at the library and in her monthly Scholastic order.

I read through Cordy’s writing journal and noticed that she talked about what a “bother” her sister was more than once. Then we were invited to go see the biographies that were posted in the hallway. Kids had paired off and interviewed each other in class, then wrote a bio about the other person. Somehow, I wasn’t surprised by what the other kid learned from Cordy:

You may notice that she really wants the class to know about her little sister.

We met briefly with the special needs teacher, who expressed her joy that things were going fairly well for Cordy so far this year. The bus is still arriving late each morning, which upsets her, but otherwise she’s only had minor problems that were easily redirected. The teacher told me that she gave Cordy a “Take 5” card to keep with her at school. If she’s ever feeling overwhelmed or just needs a break, she can flash her Take 5 card and visit the special needs classroom for five minutes. She knows she can’t use it to get out of doing an assignment, and so far she’s not used it much.

I can’t even begin to describe how happy I am that we’re not getting calls home about Cordy hiding under her desk or having outbursts at school. So, so happy. It’s such a relief.

Her special needs teacher did let me know that Cordy was getting frustrated in math, and the math teacher had spoken with her about ways to get through to Cordy. So I then went to visit the math teacher’s classroom. Cordy came with me for a few minutes, then she realized we were going to discuss areas where she wasn’t doing as well and asked to go hang out in the library for a bit.

Unlike Cordy’s reading teacher, who was her teacher for reading last year as well, Cordy’s math teacher never had the chance to work with her beyond a single assessment last year.

The math teacher started by telling me that Cordy has great logic and is easily capable of doing everything they’re learning in class. But, she then said that every time she introduces something new, where Cordy doesn’t immediately recognize how to solve the problem, Cordy shuts down and won’t even try it.

I knew what she was describing before she even finished telling me – it’s a common pattern of behavior for my oldest. I explained that Cordy is a perfectionist with severe anxiety over getting anything wrong. So if she sees something new that she’s unsure of, she’d rather not attempt it at all and protect herself from making a mistake. Cordy was also saying that the teacher hated her because she didn’t do perfect work. (Which distressed the teacher, since it wasn’t true!)

We chatted a little more about strategies to help her, and I promised I’d be in close contact to provide any suggestions or help I could to work past it. Her math teacher then told me a funny story about Cordy. (Everyone in the school seems to have one.)

The kids were sharing their answers to a homework word problem, and Cordy found a different way to do it than many of the other kids. The teacher asked her to come up to the front of the class and explain her method, since others might find it helpful as well.

Cordy did come up, and told everyone how she got her answer. Then she turned to her teacher, smirked and said, “How ya like me now?”

Oh, that kid.

Then it was on to Mira’s classroom. Her teacher was Cordy’s first grade teacher, and someone I went to high school with, so we’re familiar with each other. She told me Mira loves to be at school, and loves to read. I was surprised by the second part of that, but she assured me that Mira asks to read when she’s done with her work. Maybe she’s finally getting over her own stubbornness about reading?

Of course, the real subject for discussion was Mira’s, uh, discussion. Her teacher tried to gently say that Mira has a lot to say and loves to share with everyone. I brushed past the politeness and acknowledged that little girl never stops talking. I’m not kidding, either – anyone who knows her knows how rare it is for her to be silent. School is the greatest possible place for her, because it forces her to learn to hold it in and carefully consider what’s important enough to say with the small amount of time she’s given to talk.

But despite her chatty nature, she’s doing well in class. She’s very social, loves to participate (a bit of a know-it-all, really), and really loves being at school. We need to work on reminding her to wait her turn to talk, to not be overly affectionate (she hugs everyone, multiple times a day), and to try to hold her emotions in when she encounters something difficult or has an unpleasant change of plans. There’s no crying in schoolwork.

Overall? The open house reinforced that my kids may be a little quirky, but there’s no doubt that they stand out and they’re doing well at school. Cordy may have trouble being social, but everyone remarks on how cheery she is. And Mira, well… Mira will be running that school by fifth grade, if not sooner.

Filed Under: Cordy, Mira, school

Sep 4, 2013

Becoming a Behavior Detective and Advocating for My Daughter at School

September 4, 2013 By Christina

The start of each school year brings anxiety for any parent and child, I think. But when your child has special needs, that anxiety is magnified.

Early on, it wasn’t so difficult. Cordy was in a special needs class for kindergarten because of her autism/ADHD, with limited inclusion time in a traditional kindergarten classroom. Her inclusion time was carefully supervised and we had daily reports on how it was going. We wanted to see her do well and get more inclusion time, but there wasn’t much pressure for her to do well since she’d never been in a typical class before.

After doing well with her inclusion time in kindergarten, first grade was entirely a success. It was her first year being fully mainstreamed. She briefly started her day in the special needs classroom, then spent the remainder of the day in her first grade classroom, with a quick check-in at the end of the day with the special needs teacher. There were a few small bumps along the way — most involving keeping Cordy focused — but none of them were dramatic and through good communication with her teachers, we got past each of them easily.

So when second grade came along, we again prepared for the transition and new experiences coming her way. The teacher knew Cordy from lunchroom duty, and Cordy seemed to like her already. Many of the same kids from her first grade class would be in this class, too, and we assumed second grade was going to be just as smooth as first grade.

Never assume.

The school year started well at first, but we soon were getting reports of problems from the special needs teacher. Cordy was distracted. There were occasional outbursts from her. She was hiding under her desk at times and refused to come out.

Cordy’s aide (who was a shared aide & wasn’t always available) was first called on to calm her down and get her focused with the class again. But soon the teacher couldn’t handle the distraction and would send her out of the class. We worried that her second grade teacher was frustrated with the behavior issues and had written her off as a trouble child.

Then, not even a month into the school year, Cordy laid down on the ground when it was time to line up for recess and refused to go back inside. When the principal asked her to stand up, she stuck out her tongue. This resulted in losing her second recess and spending that time in the behavioral management classroom. For my perfectionist child, this punishment was interpreted by her to mean that she was a failure at everything. She even signed her behavior management paper with the extra words “worst child.”

For a month, I felt like we were losing all of the progress we had made. Cordy was beginning to dread going to school. We had to enforce consequences for bad behavior at school, while trying to determine what had changed and why she was acting out so much. Many evenings I’d cry after putting the kids to bed, feeling helpless, unsure of how to guide my child back from being so lost.

And then one day Cordy needed to get something out of her classroom before we left, so I went into the room with her. I stood next to her desk, taking in the entire environment around me, and suddenly it started to make sense. Her desk was the closest to the door, furthest from the teacher. The desk was also right next to the pencil sharpener and the coat racks.

Now imagine that situation as a child who struggles to tune-out all of the sensory input around her. The grinding of a pencil being sharpened. The rustling of coats being pushed aside and unzipping of backpacks to grab forgotten items. Doors shutting, people talking, and footsteps as people shuffle past the open door in the hallway. A fan providing a steady hum to circulate the hot air in the room. General classroom noise of kids whispering to each other, papers being shifted around, chairs creaking, etc. And a teacher attempting to be heard over the noise by raising her voice to make sure everyone hears her.

Becoming a Behavior Detective and Advocating for My Daughter at School

It’s no wonder she was distracted. Cordy has trouble focusing and is easily upset by too much sensory input. She interpreted her teacher’s loud voice as yelling directly at her. The background noises irritated her and triggered anxiety attacks, causing her to hide under her desk or shriek in class. Taking away her recess times only confirmed in her mind that she was a problem who is different from other kids, and deprived her of the physical activity she needed during recess (stimming) to release that anxiety and help her find focus to get through the remainder of her day. Her brain was short-circuiting before she reached midday, keeping her in a constant state of fight-or-flight.

I was convinced at this point that the only way to improve the situation was by changing the situation. I spoke with her special needs teacher and then with the principal about switching her to the other second grade class, explaining my hypothesis that she was acting out based on sensory overload and anxiety. I had gathered all of the evidence, matching up behaviors with probable causes, and was prepared to advocate for my sensitive child until some change was made.

Thankfully, they agreed. They’ve known Cordy since pre-K, so they knew she’s a kid who enjoys school and loves to learn. They could also see the behaviors were not because she was a difficult child, but instead were the symptom of her struggling with a difficult situation. We agreed to move her to the other second grade class immediately.

They also suggested sending her to third grade during reading, reasoning that because she was testing far beyond second grade in her reading ability, more challenging work could keep her engaged so she’s less affected by the sensory environment. The idea of her going to another class for reading made me nervous, but they assured me she would always have her aide for that part of the day to ease the transition. I also asked that she no longer lose recess for behavior issues, but instead lose other privileges, like computer time, so that she could reset herself with time on the playground.

The changes were implemented the next week and the transition was smooth, other than Cordy announcing to her old class, “You’re all too loud, so I’m leaving this class!” Oops.

We saw results on the first day, when my normally moody child came out of the school with a smile on her face and told me, “School was great today! I love my new teacher. He has a quiet, calm voice.” The remainder of the school year wasn’t perfect by any means, but there were no further calls home from school or major disruptions in the class. Changing the situation worked to change the behavior.

Having a daughter with autism/ADHD has changed how I think of education and how I view a child’s behaviors. I’ve learned that a classroom setting is not one-size-fits-all, and that behavior problems in school can be clues to a mismatch between child and classroom. The child who was happy in first grade and now a “behavior problem” in second grade probably isn’t trying to cause trouble. Instead, there’s something bothering her, and finding the source of the behavior can help correct it.

The greatest lesson I learned from last year is to stay involved in your child’s school and be an active part of setting up the right routine and environment for your child. We’ve always kept in touch with the special needs teacher and the principal, and it’s that relationship we’ve had with them that helped us get such quick action. If you see a behavior change in your child at school, consider what the underlying problem could be. In our case, we knew Cordy needed fewer distractions and a change of classroom. Other parents may find insecurity is the cause, either due to bullying or self-doubt over more difficult material.

Since learning to be a behavior detective last year, I’m feeling confident that third grade will be better. We met with the teachers ahead of time to discuss strategies for keeping Cordy’s focus and how to handle her anxiety. They’re aware of what to look for as well as what could be causing her behaviors. If there are problems, they’ll contact us to work on solutions together. We’re a strong team going into this year, and our early planning and communication will hopefully ensure a positive and productive third grade experience.

Filed Under: Autism, Cordy, school

Aug 30, 2013

Learning To Be Social

August 30, 2013 By Christina

Back in June, Cordy had to go through a re-evaluation in order to continue receiving county assistance for her therapy. Basically, they wanted her to be tested again to make sure she still had autism and it wasn’t just a fluke when she was four years old. (Hahahaha…the county has such a sense of humor!)

We received the full report a few weeks ago, and it’s taken some time to read through all 13 pages of descriptions of her behaviors and test scores and what they mean. There’s no doubt she still has autism. Her psychologist said she’d be diagnosed with Asperger’s under the old guidelines, but she’s using the new DSM-V so it now falls under the blanket diagnosis “Autism Spectrum Disorder.”

It didn’t bother me to see that her diagnosis remains. We expected that. Cordy has autism, it’s a part of who she is, and while I’d love for the difficulties caused by autism to go away someday, I know it’s going to stick with her. It’s not something that most kids grow out of. I’ll admit that autism can throw a lot of barriers in the way of everyday life, but it’s also true that Cordy wouldn’t be the same quirky, funny, and smart little girl without it. Really, autism is just a name for the unique way her brain works, both good and bad.

What did trouble me, however, was seeing a high occurrence of symptoms of other co-morbid conditions: ADHD (both types), severe anxiety, obsessive-compulsive disorder, manic behavior and depression. At the moment these are all considered to be related to her autism and not separate issues. I can’t help but think, though, how these issues could eventually wreck havoc on her as she gets older. Puberty is hard for any kid to go through, but when you’re different, it has to be so much harder.

She’s at the age now where she should be making friends and wanting to spend time with those friends. But she doesn’t express any interest in hanging out with kids from school. She can name a few kids who are friendly with her, but I haven’t seen these kids seek her out when we’re at school events. Mira has birthday parties surrounded by friends. Cordy can’t think of anyone to invite for hers. Making friends is not a primary goal of going to school, but I had hoped she would be a little more social than she currently is.

During the evaluation, the psychologist told me about a social skills group she runs just for girls. The girls are roughly 8-12 years old, so having an all-girls group is generally beneficial for this age range when gender-specific friendships begin to strengthen. And when boys are yucky and then start to be seen as dreamy. The girls all have different issues (not all have autism) and as a group they learn how to properly interact with others, make friends, and play together in a way that everyone enjoys. Without hesitation I asked if we could get Cordy into the group. It sounded like a perfect fit for her.

This week was her first social skills group meeting. Cordy wasn’t so thrilled of the idea of more therapy, especially when this therapy doesn’t have the big foam pit like she has at OT. The group meets shortly after school, too, when she’s already tired and cranky, and she protested that having to go to this was taking away valuable reading time from her.

When we opened the door to the waiting area , I found a mostly-full room of people. The moms were sitting in the waiting room chairs, while the kids were doing all sorts of things independently. Some were playing with the large wooden cube toy in the middle of the room, some were on electronic devices, and others were hanging close to their moms. There were several boys in the room, too, but it was obvious they were siblings and weren’t staying.

Cordy immediately saw the cube toy and went to play with it. I quietly took a seat, not interrupting all of the conversations going on in the room. All of the other moms were chatting with each other over what they had been doing on their two week break and the back-to-school routine. One handed out a couple of thank you notes for those who had attended her daughter’s birthday party. They all appeared to know each other fairly well; I felt a little like the outsider in the room as I listened to their conversations and tried to blend in to the chair.

Finally, one turned to me and asked, “Your daughter is new to the group, right? Dr. B mentioned there would be a new girl.”

I nodded, nervous about making the right first impression. “Yes, she is. She had a re-eval with Dr. B this summer. Dr. B recommended more social skills practice and thought she’d be perfect for this group.”

The woman smiled and said, “Well, she’ll love this group. They’re all hot messes!” The other moms in the room laughed and nodded in understanding. A wave of relief passed over me and I instantly felt more relaxed.

Yes, she called our daughters hot messes. But that’s the kind of humor that I’ve seen several special needs moms use to get through each day. Sometimes we need to laugh.

I watched Cordy playing by the other kids. She was talking to herself and not engaged with the other girls who were nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with her. Some of the girls were talking to each other, which gave me hope that one day Cordy would see a room of kids and willingly choose to talk to others and make friends.

Soon Dr. B arrived and called all of the girls back. I was hoping that I could get to know some of the moms while the kids were working in their group, but the room quickly cleared out. Only two other moms remained, and one of the remaining ones got up from my side of the room to sit closer to the other woman and talk. I reached for my trusty awkward situation management tool – my iPhone – and pretended I wasn’t listening intently to their conversation, when I really was.

Thankfully, after about five minutes they began slowly working me into their conversation. It felt great to chat with other special needs moms in person. They understood the challenges I have each day. None of us judge for the strange ways we sometimes have to do things to accommodate our sensitive kids, cause they’re doing the same.

I soon realized that one of them had a daughter so similar to Cordy it was frightening. Both have extreme anxiety, same diagnosis, similar sensory issues – and they’re the same age. I truly enjoyed the conversation. Just as Cordy doesn’t have a lot of friends, I also don’t have a lot of other mom friends living within the city.

When Dr. B released the kids, Cordy came out and immediately told me she had a great time. I asked what they did, and she said they introduced themselves to each other, set ground rules for the group, and then played a game together. Cordy also told me she made a friend in the group – who happened to be the girl who seemed to be so similar to Cordy. Interesting. Of course, she couldn’t tell me the other girl’s name or what is was that she liked about her, but hey, it’s a start.

I’ve got my fingers crossed that this group will be fantastic for Cordy, and maybe even me, too. I’m hoping she’ll learn how to play within a group and not get upset if things don’t go her way. It would be amazing if Cordy could have friends that she wanted to see outside of when they happened to be right next to her. And I’m hoping to learn better ways to support her through this, and maybe pick up some new wisdom from the other moms.

Hopeful. Ever hopeful.

I’m grateful that we stumbled into this group. I don’t want to change my daughter into someone else, but instead give her the tools to better interact with this world around her, a world which she won’t ever be able to fully escape. With the right tools and support, this kid will do great things.

Filed Under: Autism, Cordy, daily life Tagged With: girls, social skills