You are here: Home / Archives for Family
Jun 15, 2009

Do They Have A Mommy Relaxation Camp?

June 15, 2009 By

‘Cause if they do, I could use one right now.

Today was Cordy’s first day of summer camp. “Typical” kid summer camp. Keep up with the pace summer camp. Do self-care stuff on your own summer camp. And I’m nervous as hell.

Two years ago, right after Mira was born, we put Cordy in a summer camp that was both a help and a disaster. I needed the time without Cordy, but she didn’t handle camp well. She didn’t follow the group. She didn’t participate in activities. She had massive meltdowns in group assembly. She had to be fed because she wouldn’t feed herself. And she wouldn’t drink from a cup, so she often was extremely thirsty at the end of the day. That was when we first heard the words, “It might be a good idea to get her evaluated.”

One year ago, after a year of special needs preschool, we enrolled her in a special needs summer camp program through the school district. That? Also a disaster. Many of the kids in that program had more severe disabilities, and Cordy spent all summer backsliding.

But today she’s being mainstreamed again. I know it is best for her. She needs the challenge. She’s made incredible progress and is ready for this, but I feel like I’m still trying to convince myself of that statement.

I worry the other kids won’t accept her. I know she’ll be hard to deal with during the first week or two – until she learns the routine – and I worry her teachers won’t wait for her to blossom into the happy child and instead write her off as worth their time early on. And what if she doesn’t know to ask to go to the bathroom? Will she have an accident?

I’m overprotective -there’s no hiding that fact. I do try to shield her from some of the ugly in life. I step in when she encounters mean kids probably sooner than I should. Oh, and I gave her teachers a speech about Cordy’s sensitivities and quirks that was so long they probably quit listening after the first few sentences and just nodded and smiled to keep me happy.

We pick her up this afternoon, and I’m hoping for a glowing report. Or at least a “it wasn’t too bad” report. Until then, I’m all nerves.

(And Mira starts summer camp tomorrow, too. Strangely enough, I’m not at all worried about her.)

And if you’re bored and like looking at photos of people in dressing rooms under bad fluorescent lighting, come check out my little fashion show and help me choose clothing for BlogHer!

Filed Under: Autism, being a mom, Cordy


Jun 12, 2009

Haiku Friday: Counting

June 12, 2009 By
A surprise talent:
Mira can count to fourteen
Where did she learn that?

Although she is hard to
understand, the numbers are
clearly there for her

My only guess is
she is watching TV more
closely than I thought

Mira has apparently known how to count for awhile, but didn’t feel the need to share it with us. But when walking down the stairs the other day, she counted each step, going all the way to 14 without prompting. We were stunned – who taught her to count? I’ve done a little bit of counting with her in the past, but nothing more than 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. And then I hear aaaaii (8), niiiii (9), ehn! (10), eeeveeen (11).

She must have had pity on her poor dumb mother, enduring my elementary lesson while already mastering the intermediate levels. I can only guess that she’s paying close attention to Sesame Street and Noggin each day.

To play along for Haiku Friday, follow these steps:

1. Write your own haiku on your blog. You can do one or many, all following a theme or just random. What’s a haiku, you ask? Click here.

2. Sign the Mister Linky below with your name and the link to your haiku post (the specific post URL, not your main blog URL). DON’T sign unless you have a haiku this week. If you need help with this, please let me know.

3. Pick up a Haiku Friday button to display on the post or in your sidebar by clicking the button at the top.

REMEMBER: Do not post your link unless you have a haiku this week! I will delete any links without haiku!

Filed Under: growing up, Haiku Fridays, Mira


Jun 9, 2009

Last Day of School

June 9, 2009 By

Today was Cordy’s last day of preschool.

After typing that last sentence, it took me 15 minutes to continue this post. I just kept staring at that sentence and thinking about all it means.

Cordy began preschool right after she turned three years old. After traumatizing evaluations, she was determined to be “special-needs” and placed in a special needs preschool class right away. I remember first meeting her teacher and thinking she seemed very nice, but I worried that there was no way she could control my wild Amazon. Her teacher took one look at her and said, “Oh, she’ll love me. I guarantee it.”

And school did not start well. Cordy hated going. Each day I would take her to her classroom, and they would have to pull her off of me so I could leave. Her screams echoed down the hall as I left, and I tried not to cry, reminding myself this was what was best for her. At that time, she didn’t engage her classmates, she paid no attention to what was going on in the room, and she refused to let anyone touch her. Asking her to do something she was afraid of resulted in a meltdown. She was still in diapers, too.

Her first school photo was a success only after her teacher spent an hour trying to coax her into the room, and even then she looked scared to death. But ever so slowly, changes appeared. She didn’t cry and scream when I dropped her off in the morning. She had better progress reports from school (even if the physical therapist still wasn’t happy with her) and her teacher told me that she was starting to fingerpaint! Like, with real paint on her fingers! And without collapsing into a puddle of tantrum on the floor!

Near the end of the first year, Cordy came home one day with her hair in a ponytail. Aaron and I were stunned. Cordy never let anyone touch her hair, yet now she was sporting a ponytail. I didn’t see any blood under her nails, so I assumed she let her teacher play with her hair.

Summer break was difficult. Cordy missed her teacher and she didn’t like the summer school program for special needs children. Much of the progress of the school year faded away during the summer. But she was going back to her same teacher and classroom in the fall, so I had something to look forward to.

This school year has been amazing. On her first day, she was excited to go back to school, unlike her first day a year before. After a few months, she started talking about her friends at school – friends!! My heart nearly burst at the thought of her finally interacting with other kids! Her teacher reported that she was starting to go with her classmates to the bathroom now, although she still wouldn’t use the potty. That wouldn’t happen until February.

We noticed that she came home many days with ponytails. Sometimes pigtails. By spring break she occasionally came home with her hair french braided. Her school photo? While it still took some coaxing, she looked more relaxed this year.

In two years of preschool, Cordy has become a new person. She’s spun that cocoon and broken out to reveal the beautiful butterfly that she is meant to be. That confused, angry, sensitive child that started in 2007 has been taught how to deal with the crushing sensory experiences life throws at her. She’s learned that she doesn’t need to always react to new situations with fear. Other children are in her line of sight now, all possible new friends to her.

Don’t get me wrong – she still has a long way to go, too. Cordy has little ability to focus on a task for more than a minute. Even with learning to cope, the world is still scary to her and her senses are easily overwhelmed. She may see other kids now, but she has a lot of trouble trying to hold a conversation.

And like her teacher predicted in 2007, Cordy adores her. When we dropped some gifts off for her teacher today, Cordy gave her a big hug and told her, “I love you, Miss W!” Tears were shed over the end of the year, and phone numbers were exchanged so we could be in touch this summer.

Because with the end of this school year, a big change is looming ahead of us. She’s too old to return to preschool and her beloved teacher. She’s eligible for kindergarten, but Aaron and I, along with Cordy’s teacher and therapists, all agree that she’s not ready for kindergarten yet. At this point she’d be eaten alive by the other kids, and after she was bullied at the mall earlier this year, I don’t think I can endure that yet.

Instead, her teacher pulled some strings to get her placed at one of the best special needs Pre-K programs in the school district next year. It’s an all-day program, unlike her preschool class, and the teacher is one that Cordy’s current teacher highly respects and recommends. There will be a strong emphasis on academics as well as the social skills she’ll need to survive kindergarten.

But we’ll miss her teacher. Miss W is a part of Cordy’s success, and I wish we could take her with us.

Filed Under: Cordy, growing up, school


Jun 5, 2009

Haiku Friday: DONE!

June 5, 2009 By
A great day has come
My final exam is done, now
I can graduate

This journey started
here three years ago and now
you’ll see it end, too.

I should be telling you that next week I’ll be walking across the stage in an elaborate graduation ceremony, but the truth is, I’m counting today as my graduation. I did the graduation walk when I received my BA in History, so I really don’t feel the need to sit through another one of those again. There is a pinning ceremony next week that I will attend, and I’ll try to have someone remember a camera.

It was here on this little blog that I decided to switch careers and try nursing, back in 2006. Cordy was 15 months old, Mira wasn’t even a thought yet. I wasn’t sure at the time if I would actually follow-thru with my bright new idea – after all, I’ve got credits for two Master’s degrees sitting around that I only half finished.

There were several days I considered quitting. The work was overwhelming at times. After pre-requisites, I started my actual nursing classes with a three month old baby at home. More than once I had to remind myself that not only was this an interest of mine, but that I was doing this for my family, too. I had to finish this because they needed me to finish.

I really disliked several of my clinical locations, and realized quickly that I was never going to be a happy nurse in med-surg. My two favorite clinicals were our mother/infant clinical and the rotation through pediatrics at Children’s Hospital.

But with the support of my family (especially Aaron, who had to deal with me stressed out every single day sometimes) and friends who provided both online and in-person cheering sections, I made it. The last exam was completed at 2:10pm today. I have my grade for the class. I will be graduating with honors (Cum Laude). And after I take our state license exam at the end of the month, I’ll officially be a Registered Nurse.

(WOO-HOO!)

What will I do with all my free time now? (Message from my practical side: look for a job!)

To play along for Haiku Friday, follow these steps:

1. Write your own haiku on your blog. You can do one or many, all following a theme or just random. What’s a haiku, you ask? Click here.

2. Sign the Mister Linky below with your name and the link to your haiku post (the specific post URL, not your main blog URL). DON’T sign unless you have a haiku this week. If you need help with this, please let me know.

3. Pick up a Haiku Friday button to display on the post or in your sidebar by clicking the button at the top.

REMEMBER: Do not post your link unless you have a haiku this week! I will delete any links without haiku!

Filed Under: me me me, school


Jun 2, 2009

In the Dark

June 2, 2009 By

Last night, as I was coming home from a night out with friends, I was treated to an amazing light show in the sky. Great, I thought, storms. Those who know me in person know how anxious I get in thunderstorms. I’ve never been able to relax and enjoy the power of nature. No, I’m too focused on the massive destruction, tornadoes, fires, and electrocution that nature can cause to enjoy some pretty lights in the sky.

I made it home right before the rain started. Settling down in my chair with my computer, I distracted myself with a quick e-mail check and some Twitter, hoping the storm would pass quickly.

And then the lights dimmed, came back, dimmed again, and then went out. No big crack of thunder accompanied it, so we didn’t know why the power decided to take time off.

Aaron found the flashlights while I looked outside and confirmed that everyone was in the dark. After our initial WTF? we lit some candles and relaxed. The rain was steady, the lightening was already calming down – so where was our electricity?

We waited. And waited. And waited. I called my mom and she asked “Did you call the electric company yet?”

“Um, no, but considering most of our side of town is dark, I’m guessing they already know.”

My only worry at this point was Cordy. If she woke up during this power outage, she would freak out. Cordy is afraid of the dark, and usually sleeps with her light on all night. A night light doesn’t cut it, and if I turn off her overhead light after she’s asleep, she’ll get up and turn it back on later in the night, along with her lamp. (And keep the nightlight on too, of course.) Thank goodness for CFL bulbs or environmentalists would have her on their 10 Most Wanted list.

Eventually we gave up and went to bed. Well, I went to bed, Aaron slept on the couch so he could turn everything off when the power came back on.

Sure enough, at 11:45pm, just as I was drifting off to sleep, I was startled awake by a scream from Cordy’s room. “I can’t get the lights on! I can’t see! I can’t see!” I fell out of bed in my frantic scurry to get to her room, trying to open and turn on my Nintendo DSi to provide light for her. When I opened her door, she was completely disoriented and terrified, shaking and reaching out for the light source while babbling about lights not working and make them work again and it’s dark and scary!

Aaron made it to the top of the stairs about the same time that I opened her door, and we guided her into our bedroom. I told her she could sleep in our bed tonight, and Aaron brought in her Sammy. (Somehow the giant Miffy that she named Sammy has become her nighttime protector and must be present so she can sleep.) With a child and giant stuffed rabbit in the bed, Aaron knew there was no room for him and went back to the couch.

At that point, all I wanted was to go back to sleep. I tried to close the DSi, but Cordy was again scared, even though I was right there with her. So I left it on, placing it on the bedside table. Then I remembered that I hadn’t charged it lately. Hmmm…once that light ran out, she’d be a mess again. I got out of bed to gather more light-producing equipment, and came up with a Nintendo DS and a book light. Well, it was better than nothing.

Thankfully, the lights came on 10 minutes after that. But Cordy refused to go back to her room. “What if the lights stop working again?” she asked over and over. I assured her that I would come and get her if they went off again, but she wouldn’t budge. As long as there was the statistical probability of the lights not working again, she was not moving.

Cordy hasn’t slept in our bed in a long, long time, and she’s not the best bed-mate. She talks half the night, kicks, fidgets, tosses and turns, and does her best to make sure no one else is sleeping. And is then up at 6am on her knees with open arms proclaiming, “Good morning, sun!” to the light coming in the window.

So if any locals happen to see me today, please buy me a coffee. And hope that she returns to her bed tonight.

Filed Under: being a mom, Cordy, daily life