Monthly Archives: January 2013

Birthdays

I usually don’t like acknowledging my birthday. But having Boo walk around the house saying HAPPY DAY puts a whole new spin on it.

Driving Miss Allie

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Allie talks. A lot. Sometimes it is mind-numbing and you feel your ears kind of throb. But you have to pay attention. Because once and a while she slips something important in there. Like her life’s plan.

The other night I was driving her to her riding lesson, typically a half-hour drive. For a change it was just the two of us, the minute her butt hit the seat the mouth started moving. Because I am going for mom of the year I offered her use of the IPOD. I could have a quiet moment or two, right?

Wrong. Allie went into a soliloquy about what she wants to be when she get older. She started asking about how much the test was to be a vet and did she have to do a lot of math to be one. We went on and on and on about the different types of vets. I explained about college and yes there was math involved. But there is math involved in any job.

Allie: Except if you are just a mom, right?
Me: Nope, because Mom’s get stuck helping their children with the homework. (Yes, I said it: get stuck!)

After riding, she got back into the car and told me she thought about it some more. She has decided not to be a vet. But that her new husband would be one. (quick aside–I have no idea who the old husband is or what he did for work!). But Allie is going to be a therapist.

Me: What type of therapist?

Allie: An OT because they get to do everything. Boo’s OT does speech, PT and OT with her and that is the most fun therapy.

But the conversation, of course, didn’t end there. Allie has it all planned out. See, Allie figures that Boo hates OT because it isn’t a fun place to go. There is too much going on. So Allie’s new husband is going to redo their basement as the perfect OT room. She has decided that if “special needs” kids think they are just going on a play date at someone’s house they will not cry. She will have mats, a ball pit, a bounce house and everything Boo might need.

Me: Boo?

Allie: Of course, Boo. She and all her friends from school will be my first patients. My new husband will let them pet of the animals he takes care of so they can have more OT than normal. They will tell all their friends to come to me. I will have fun, be rich and my new husband worry about the math.

And OT’s get to use IPADS!

As we got out of the car and went into the house she told me, “Yup. I am either going to be a vet, an OT or a Princess.”

….all of this lead me to wonder, does Allie pay any attention during her riding lesson?

Tag your it

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I do believe the girls are tag-teaming us. Allie is usually my sleeper. It takes her a while to get to sleep, but once she is there all is quiet. Except this week. On Saturday she was awake from 2am-5am. On Sunday Boo was fussing from 3-4a. On Monday it was Allie’s turn, Midnight-3am. Last night it was Boo’s turn.

So I have a plan.

I will initiate my plan in 15 or so years. When they are in their 20’s before they have children and have to be up with them. But after they are through college when they can sleep through their classes.

I am going to call them, or go to their house, or if they live across the country hire some one to knock on their door and wake them up at 2am. Talk to them until at least 4am. Then go home and nap. Because by the time I am 60 I will no longer need so much sleep or be used to the deprivation, right?

Then I will tag one of you to do it to your non-sleeper. Who is in?

Did you grieve?

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The other day I was asked if I had ever ‘grieved’ for Boo. I was completely taken aback by the question. Why would I grieve when my child lived? Of course, the person meant did I grieve the child I thought I would have (aka “perfection”).

The true answer would be, no I haven’t grieved. But not because I am a glutton for punishment or in denial, but because I accept—most of the time anyway—Boo for who she is. My sister-in-law thought that maybe I had so much trouble over the holidays because I hadn’t grieved. What she didn’t realize was that I never blamed Boo for my feelings. Nor was I upset that I couldn’t buy my 4-year old appropriate gifts and instead went with therapy based ones.

My problem was that I was feeling guilty and (I admit) kind of overwhelmed, depressed, and feeling that I suck at being her mom because of my own shortcomings. Not because of Boo’s. Yes, I struggle when I see typical 4-year olds. But that is not about grief. It is about wanting my child not to have to work so hard.

What I tried to explain to my SIL was that if Allie didn’t get into Harvard (hey, a mom can dream) I am going to be upset because she worked so hard to get into the school (again, a mom can wish). With Boo, I get upset because she works so hard to achieve things that are normal milestones for other kids. And at her birthday or the holidays I feel bad for Boo that she doesn’t get the magic like other children her age.

Most days, I am able to put Boo into perspective. Whenever I get too into the self-pity mode, I only have to look into the waiting room of any therapy or doctor’s office. There is always a child who struggles are more intense. Which that Catholic guilt in me makes me feel guilt that I actually think: thank God that isn’t my child. Come on be honest, I am not the only one! And I am sure some parent looks at Boo and has the same feeling.

Although they probably don’t admit it for the world to judge!

I am not sure what the grieving process is, or if I am in the midst of one and just don’t know it. I do know that it is exactly what makes Boo a ‘special’ child that I love the most about her. While I wish her struggle wasn’t so difficult, I know it is exactly her determination that makes her the girl that we know and love.

So I don’t believe that I have grieved. And I do not think I want to. I would rather rejoice that Boo is Boo.

All is quiet….

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The sure sign that some one is up to trouble is when a peep is not heard.

I am wondering if this falls under the category of physical or occupational therapy?

It was definitely not speech therapy they were both too quiet 🙂

I blame Boo for my failings

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It is day 9 of the Diet Coke saga. Yes, I am counting. So far I have been a total failure, and I blame Boo. First she hasn’t been sleeping well since the company left and school started back up. Second, while she did not get the flu she did get a cold. Which she then passed on to her loving, Diet Coke addict, sleep deprieved mother.

So I decided a wean was in order. Forget cold turkey, who can just stop doing something they love? And I love, LOVE, did I say LOVE, Diet Coke in a can. Not in a bottle, not by a fountain, not in any other form. (Okay, that could be a Sam-I-Am rhyme!). But I do not drink coffee or tea and need caffeine. So on Saturday I broke down and bought a 2-liter. Convincing myself that I would only drink it on the weekend and let coworkers deal with the sleep deprivation. I also drank the 2-liter over 2-days so there was none left over to take to work on Monday morning.

I’ve been too busy to go to the store to buy more, so far that mode of denial is working. It’s Thursday and I’ve gone 4 entire days without slipping.

Although I could use a ice-cold can right now….

Does your child know what to do?

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After the tragedy in New Town, CT, many of the parents in our school (and I am sure yours) worried about their children’s safety in a new way. Last night our PTA held a special meeting with our town’s safety officers. I have to say, I am beyond impressed. And that is knowing that I have an in at the fire department.

I never talked about the shootings with Allie. She came home from school and told me that the teacher had told them a bad man had broken into the school and tried to hurt the children. But not to worry because their school would be safe (exactly how she could promise that is beyond me). Allie told her classmates not to worry, that she knew the fire fighters and they would come and save them. Tall order for Daddy, but he is up to the task.

She also said that doing the lock down drill wasn’t scary. It is like a fire drill. A fire probably isn’t going to happen but kids need to know what to do so they aren’t scared. (Out of the mouths of babes, right?)

Last night was interesting for many reasons. The first, most irritating was that for all the brouhaha on the PTA Facebook page and e-mails from parents questioning if our school was safe enough only 15 people showed up. Come on people. If you are that concerned about your kids show up for the meeting (Yes, I have a snarky side).

Another interesting factoid was that our police, fire and school departments have been ‘drilling’ for different types of scenarios for over six years. That we parents just didn’t know what was involved. Until CT and we decided we wanted something done. Their response was an affirmative. Not only must something be done but they are training all the time to ensure the safety of our children. Things go on at school that we just do not realized.

But here is the thing. With all the training and drills for the children. Kids still don’t know what to do. A question arose from a parent about what would happen if a child was in the bathroom during a lockdown. The answer: the child would leave the bathroom (or hallway) and go to the nearest classroom. From there they would follow the teacher’s direction. So, of course I asked Allie if she knew what to do. Her answer: Well, first I would “finish” (that girl cracks me up she is so literal) and then I would hide under the stall.

So the kids do not always know. Or they are told but forget. And that shouldn’t surprise anyone. Allie forgets what happened at 10am this morning if she is asked at tomorrow at the same time. As parents it is our job to find out what the procedures are and reinforce them at home. Our safety team (yes, we have a team) told the PTA the most important thing we could do to help them, is after a drill to talk to our kids and provide feedback on what worked, what was scary/confusing, did the teachers act like it was a joke or important.

As I said, I didn’t have “the talk” with Allie about New Town. But that doesn’t mean we don’t talk about safety. And now I know how to direct the conversation.

Boo, is another story. We were told at her school that children with special needs (be it autism, undiagnosed, CP or mobility issue) were taken to another location. This was in deference to the fact that kids with autism, for example, if placed in a high stress situation with a lot of excitable/scared kids are more likely to shut down, elope or react in a way that is harmful to themselves or others. Since Boo spends half her day in an integrated preschool and half in the special needs program, I asked her teacher what would happen if she was in preschool. Would she be transferred with the preschoolers or go with the specials? The teacher didn’t know. She ‘assumed’ that Boo would stay with the preschool. But she would find out, for sure. Personally I am not too worried. Because Daddy would be responding with the fire truck and Boo has an aide that not allowed to leave her side. But what about the other parents who might not know that their child will be moved across town for their safety?

This is a long blog post. And I hope you are still reading because this is important. I urge you to get involved either with your PTA or safety team. Do you not have a safety team (EMS, police, teachers, school nurses)? If you need info, e-mail me and I can put you into contact with our EMS officer.

But here is what else you can do:

Find out where you child is going to be at in the event of an evacuation (in New Town it was a fate that the fire station was next door).
Find out what the procedures are, and ask your child if they know as part of a conversation not an alarming quiz.
After a drill, send feed back to your PTA or school principal. Let them know how your child did. I promise they want to know.
If you have a child with special needs, find out exactly what training has been taken (do they practice lifting wheelchairs down stairs with a child—not an adult) in them?
See if you can join the team or what you can do to help in an emergency situation. Do they need people to help keep track of kids, reunite them with their families, etc…?
And lastly, if your PTA hosts a safety meeting make sure you go. Be as involved with your child’s safety as you are their soccer practice (I warned you I was snarky).

It is does take a village to keep your child safe. So be an active member!

I play favorites

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When I had Allie I swore I was one and done. I had a great job, a husband who tried to be wonderful, a well discplined dog and a seemingly perfect child. I did not think I had the capacity to love a child as much as I love Allie. I did not think I would have the patience for another child. Because, let’s face it, having a husband and a dog is like having a more children. (I do love him, though, I swear!).

Then five years later, Boo appeared. I should start off with saying, that while not planned, Boo was not a ‘mistake’ or a reason for despair. Once we learned I was pregnant we were ecstatic. Okay, wait a minute, I admit I cried to my boss–but seriously I was ONE AND DONE! On top of it all, I am so not a baby person. Give me a toddler a tween and I can be the perfect mom. But babies? Pass the baby please to the maternal-type to my left or right.

What I learned, especially in the NICU, was that I could love another child. But that would not mean that I loved Allie any less. In fact, having Boo made me love Allie more. It made Allie grow up, and not be spoiled (I admit, she was spoiled). It showed me how great a girl Allie was, one who would teach me how to accept Boo for Boo.

Although I am not a “baby” person (trust me, I used to change Allie with gloves on) I sometimes think she is God’s little joke on me. “Oh Kerri, you aren’t comfortable with babies? Have one for 3 years”. But I have risen to the challenge, yes totally patting myself on the back. And have relished in the baby years that passed to quickly with Allie.

And I was right. I do play favorites. Allie is my favorite shopping companion, the one who shares my sarcastic wit, the one I want to talk in an opera voice for a day (yes, we did). Husband is my favorite, start a fire and pour a glass of wine favorite. Bailey is my favorite to go for a walk/run with and Boo? She is my favorite snuggle, the one I could hold all day and not get tired. Boo is my favorite quiet moment, Allie my favorite crazy moment, Husband my favorite 80’s hair band moment. And Bailey my favorite unconditional love moment.

I think it is okay to pay favorites. Because life is never what we plan. Allie planned on the perfect sister, and got it. I planned on having another child that would fit in with our life-plan and got Boo. Bailey just wants someone to pat his head. And husband, well he hopes for more wine & fire nights.

In those intervening years since I first learned I was pregnant with Boo, the well-mannered dog died of old-age. And idiot that I am, I convinced my husband to get a puppy. And life got more complicated. But you know what, I may play favorites but I wouldn’t change a thing.

Maybe just one…..

Fate

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I’m going to be honest. I typically do not believe in fate. I believe that we shape our own destiny based on choice. I struggle with divine intervention, as I believe first God doesn’t care who wins the Superbowl, second He would be a loving God and wouldn’t allow Sandy Hook-type events to happen and third that God would realize I am ill-equipped to handle any child let alone one with special needs.

But every once in a while something happens that makes me ponder how control I do have over my life, how much is left to fate and divine intervention.

Boo has yoga at J’s house on Saturday mornings and Allie recently began Pony Club at the exact same time (poor planning on my part, I admit). Usually it is not a problem and when my husband is on duty I can move yoga to a later time. Last weekend this was not the case and so yoga was rescheduled to New Years day. Again, what was I thinking? I came to my senses and just cancelled it all together. We had a pajama day instead.

I just received a text from J, the yoga instructor. Four of her five children have been diagnosed with the flu. Not just a cold, the actual flu. Not one of her children but four of them. (Okay, seriously how unfair is that!!!)

So I am again pondering. Was it just my overscheduling my girls or divine intervention or fate that yoga was cancelled and we escaped Boo being exposed? Because I know my girl’s luck and exposure would equal a hospital visit.

Just in case, we are definitely making Mass this weekend!