You may have guessed by now that Joey is having a major bout of anxiety and depression this summer. However, this made him laugh harder and freer than I have heard him giggle and squeal in months.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Crabby: The Beach, Part Three
Not every side attraction was a complete disaster. The ride to them, yes. The destination, not always. For example, we decided to take a ride to "North Ocean City" to see the Discoversea Shipwreck Museum (which is free!). Joey was not fooled. He knew we were driving, and it was longer than ten minutes. Chaos reigned all the way to Fenwick Island. When we arrived, the museum is actually on the second floor of a schlock shop. We got a little nervous, and Joey's anxiety was almost overwhelming, as the shop was crammed with... schlock.
Then we managed to get upstairs, with much coaxing and promises of pirate gold. It's a darling little museum of items found in the area from shipwrecks. The labeling convinced me that the curators are either bad at labeling, or are not really sure what they have, but the objects are actually pretty decent. They also had quite a bit of information about actually collecting items and how underwater archaeology is done, including a really cool model showing what a shipwreck looks like compared to the boat exploring the wreck above. That kind of caught Joey's attention, enough to keep him in the room. Andy was fascinated (he's discovered a love for Time Team, too. That's my boy!)
Andy spent a lot of time looking at the objects, including this "mermaid" (which he knew right away wasn't real, smart boy). He liked all the sparklies (I did mention this child is my son, right? Like there was any doubt now...) and the pirate stuff, since he had been on something of a pirate kick and even on a pirate adventure (to be blogged about later). He wasn't quite as interested in the china and pots as I was, but the coins and jewelry rocked his world. 
As I prefaced this, the trip was not a complete loss. Although mildly distracted by the shipwreck model, what really caught Joey's eye was the baby blue crab and fish in a small, floor-level tank, He plopped himself down in front of that sucker and stayed there happily for half an hour, while Andy explored the museum. Then he happily went downstairs and picked out toys and a bag of tumbled stones with his brother, and complained about the ride all the way back to the hotel. He liked that tank so much, when some of the stones got broken on the hard tile floor and the boys were antsy in gray weather, we actually drove back and went again!
We also had a much-anticipated yearly visit to Hooper's Crabhouse. This is just across the bridge, so no long ride to complain about; and JOey had been talking about wanting to go from the time we announced the date we would be arriving at Ocean City. Strangely, neither of them ate much. Andy staunchly refused to eat crab (wait, did I say this was my child? How can any child of mine not eat crab?), except the legs, since he could smash them with the hammer (ok, I'll still claim him). Joey got too frustrated to pick one. However, he did not refuse any crab meat offered him until he got too full to eat anything at all. That didn't actually take that long; anxiety slows Joey's stomach way down. So crabby boy because something of a theme through the trip, to the chorus of "Let's go back to the hotel!" (said in a sing-song, "Let's go to camp now!" sort of voice). Oh, and those morning trips to the surf? The first morning we went out and the sun hit his eyes, and he he had to walk all the way back to the hotel room to use the restroom almost immediately after reaching the waves, that was the end of those.
So how did we manage to get him out of the hotel room? Stay tuned...
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
The Best Laid Plans: The Beach, Part Two
Since we were heading to the beach for a whole week, JoeyAndyDad and I did some lightning research online for things to see and do besides our usual triangle of sand, pool, and boardwalk. In the last few years, we had expanded to include Assateague, a boatride, and yummy dinner at Hooper's, but basically, we did the sand, pool, boardwalk thing. Hey, its the beach, right?
So we put together a list of fun stuff, and set it to the beat of a schedule: breakfast, beach, ride to something fun, lunch, rest, something fun like the boardwalk, pool, dinner, more pool. We found some pirate museums, a pirate boat adventure, and a new nature center to check out. We even had some breathings of trying to visit Niksmom and Nik. I thought the boys might also like another trip to the Salisbury Zoo. We all know planning is everything, right? So we were so ready.
Joey hasn't been riding in the car well, so we thought of that, too. It's a four hour drive to the beach, so we pulled out the stops: videos, his CD player, plenty of books, toys, notebooks and pens. Hey, if it will get him through four hours, thirty minutes should be a cinch, right? I mean, the fact that I had been trouble even getting so far as Grandma's all summer was of no consequence at all, right? We had made it to Jamestowne before Summer Scholars began, after all!
So what happened?
Well, first, the Bay Bridge happened. This made a four-hour trip into an eight-hour slog. We went through our bag tricks, but the trauma of the long ride lingered. Whenever a ride was suggested, Joey insisted he wanted to stay in the room. In fact, we had a hard time getting him from the room even to go on to the beach or into the pool on enough occasions, we were afraid he might even be sick.
When we did manage to get him into the car, the results were, at best, mixed.
We managed to pry Joey from the car in Salisbury, after much complaints that he didn't want to go, and that it was too far. And that nobody likes him, and he doesn't want to go.
He showed mild interest in a couple of animals, then insisted on returning to the car. So JoeyAndyDad took him back to the car, and Andy and I roamed about, looking at animals and chatting. Then we discovered the little nature center, and managed to pry Joey out of the car to touch a frog. Hey, wouldn't you get out of a car to touch a frog?
We managed to lure him into the zoo some by promising him a look at otters. Joey loves otters. However, this time he was unimpressed. He did look at a few things- then wanted to go back to the car. So the zoo visit was over for him.
I didn't allow that to dampen Andy's visit, however. We saw the animals, some of them twice so he could get a closer look without the chorus of "Let's go back to the car, now!" Andy thought the flamingos were fabulous, and very very pink. He thought his friend Kylie would like them. He also was fond of the bobcats, though I didn't get any good photos of them. We also saw a black jaguar, which was awesomely beautiful.
It is a lovely little zoo, lots of shade, some nice benches placed around and about, and even these wooden walkways through parts of the exhibits. The focus is mostly on American animals, though there are a few exotic things like the jaguar (OK, South American... no big tigers or lions or anything). There were llamas, bears, otters, and peacocks. OK, India, too. But colonists had peacocks, so there. They have a cool exhibit with beavers and wood ducks, too. h, and a fancy wolf exhibit, though once again, we didn't see a single wolf.
The nature center was small, but air conditioned, and they had a turtle shell to crawl through. They had lots of turtles and snakes to look at, oh and frogs. They also had a young lady who would bring things out to touch (like the frog), or happily tell you all about any animal there in great and fascinating detail. When she wasn't talking, she had a chair to one side to sit. JoeyAndyDad noticed that she liked to rock. Yes, there really are wonderful options for people with ASD, if you find their interests and give them the opportunity.
The Delmarva Discovery Center was less successful.
Andy loved it. He got to look at real horseshoe crabs, and there were aquariums of fish, and a model of a steamboat to walk through, and a model of a Native American house, and trains to play with and... and... it is an impressive little center. I recommend it.
However, Joey got through the door and ran screaming through the building with me hot on his heels. I finally cornered him in a back room (no, I didn't actually catch him, I cornered him), and we gathered ourselves together. The ride was too long. The place was scary. He was a ball of anxiety and frustration. He wanted to go back to the car. He made a break for the car, and again, I was on his heels, so we managed to cross the parking lot safely, and get into the car with Grandma.
I then wandered through the museum taking photos of the exhibits and Andy having fun with his Daddy: touching the crabs and watching them swim, looking at different seashells, exploring a cool computerized globe thing and learning about satellite launching, and even looking at a reconstructed hut for duck decoy carving.
I then took my camera out to the car and showed Joey what was in the museum, the cool stuff he could see and do, to see if i could take the edge off the unknown factor and get him to come have some fun. He was finally convinced by the beaver lodge.
After all, I said he could go in it. I wasn't lying. He was happy to go in, but unfortunately scratched his arm on a stick on his way out, and it was kind of downhill from there. Even the big fishtanks were no use. The horseshoe crabs spooked him rather than interesting him. The big boat was overwhelming.
He did ply some with the trains, but then he wanted to go back to the car. And back to the hotel. And back to Ocean City. Because we were now "far from Ocean City."
Next segment: more successful ventures. Though not by too much.
So we put together a list of fun stuff, and set it to the beat of a schedule: breakfast, beach, ride to something fun, lunch, rest, something fun like the boardwalk, pool, dinner, more pool. We found some pirate museums, a pirate boat adventure, and a new nature center to check out. We even had some breathings of trying to visit Niksmom and Nik. I thought the boys might also like another trip to the Salisbury Zoo. We all know planning is everything, right? So we were so ready.
Joey hasn't been riding in the car well, so we thought of that, too. It's a four hour drive to the beach, so we pulled out the stops: videos, his CD player, plenty of books, toys, notebooks and pens. Hey, if it will get him through four hours, thirty minutes should be a cinch, right? I mean, the fact that I had been trouble even getting so far as Grandma's all summer was of no consequence at all, right? We had made it to Jamestowne before Summer Scholars began, after all!
So what happened?
Well, first, the Bay Bridge happened. This made a four-hour trip into an eight-hour slog. We went through our bag tricks, but the trauma of the long ride lingered. Whenever a ride was suggested, Joey insisted he wanted to stay in the room. In fact, we had a hard time getting him from the room even to go on to the beach or into the pool on enough occasions, we were afraid he might even be sick.
When we did manage to get him into the car, the results were, at best, mixed.
We managed to pry Joey from the car in Salisbury, after much complaints that he didn't want to go, and that it was too far. And that nobody likes him, and he doesn't want to go. He showed mild interest in a couple of animals, then insisted on returning to the car. So JoeyAndyDad took him back to the car, and Andy and I roamed about, looking at animals and chatting. Then we discovered the little nature center, and managed to pry Joey out of the car to touch a frog. Hey, wouldn't you get out of a car to touch a frog?
We managed to lure him into the zoo some by promising him a look at otters. Joey loves otters. However, this time he was unimpressed. He did look at a few things- then wanted to go back to the car. So the zoo visit was over for him. 
I didn't allow that to dampen Andy's visit, however. We saw the animals, some of them twice so he could get a closer look without the chorus of "Let's go back to the car, now!" Andy thought the flamingos were fabulous, and very very pink. He thought his friend Kylie would like them. He also was fond of the bobcats, though I didn't get any good photos of them. We also saw a black jaguar, which was awesomely beautiful. 
It is a lovely little zoo, lots of shade, some nice benches placed around and about, and even these wooden walkways through parts of the exhibits. The focus is mostly on American animals, though there are a few exotic things like the jaguar (OK, South American... no big tigers or lions or anything). There were llamas, bears, otters, and peacocks. OK, India, too. But colonists had peacocks, so there. They have a cool exhibit with beavers and wood ducks, too. h, and a fancy wolf exhibit, though once again, we didn't see a single wolf. 
The nature center was small, but air conditioned, and they had a turtle shell to crawl through. They had lots of turtles and snakes to look at, oh and frogs. They also had a young lady who would bring things out to touch (like the frog), or happily tell you all about any animal there in great and fascinating detail. When she wasn't talking, she had a chair to one side to sit. JoeyAndyDad noticed that she liked to rock. Yes, there really are wonderful options for people with ASD, if you find their interests and give them the opportunity. 
The Delmarva Discovery Center was less successful. Andy loved it. He got to look at real horseshoe crabs, and there were aquariums of fish, and a model of a steamboat to walk through, and a model of a Native American house, and trains to play with and... and... it is an impressive little center. I recommend it.
However, Joey got through the door and ran screaming through the building with me hot on his heels. I finally cornered him in a back room (no, I didn't actually catch him, I cornered him), and we gathered ourselves together. The ride was too long. The place was scary. He was a ball of anxiety and frustration. He wanted to go back to the car. He made a break for the car, and again, I was on his heels, so we managed to cross the parking lot safely, and get into the car with Grandma.
I then wandered through the museum taking photos of the exhibits and Andy having fun with his Daddy: touching the crabs and watching them swim, looking at different seashells, exploring a cool computerized globe thing and learning about satellite launching, and even looking at a reconstructed hut for duck decoy carving. I then took my camera out to the car and showed Joey what was in the museum, the cool stuff he could see and do, to see if i could take the edge off the unknown factor and get him to come have some fun. He was finally convinced by the beaver lodge.
After all, I said he could go in it. I wasn't lying. He was happy to go in, but unfortunately scratched his arm on a stick on his way out, and it was kind of downhill from there. Even the big fishtanks were no use. The horseshoe crabs spooked him rather than interesting him. The big boat was overwhelming. 
He did ply some with the trains, but then he wanted to go back to the car. And back to the hotel. And back to Ocean City. Because we were now "far from Ocean City." Next segment: more successful ventures. Though not by too much.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Arrival: The Beach Part One
There is no place on earth Joey loves better than the beach. He looks forward to our beach trip every year with enthusiasm. Say "beach" to Joey, and if he hears you, he smiles. So the boys' grand arrival at the beach was, as always, a hit. First we put our feet in the sand, no camera so we could just enjoy and not worry about the camera getting wet. Then the next day, it was time to hit the boards- and Trimper's, of course! The boys were so excited- better than Christmas!
Andy's favorite is the fishing the game, which is kind of a fancy version of pick-up-a-duck. Getting a stuffed toy every time helps its popularity, but fishing really clinches it. Now that we are home, Andy wants to set up a carnival of his own, and a fishing game is to be the centerpiece. (Stay tuned). 
Joey also joined in the fun of fishing, and caught two sharks, so he got a bigger prize. Joey prefers the rides. Andy prefers the games. Joey was so happy, the noise of the rides and the people were tolerable, if not exactly comfortable. Joey has had a huge uptick in noise sensitivity. Even at home, he prefers the TV set to a volume I can barely hear, and is increasingly unhappy about going into places that used to be only minor irritations, such as Walmart or the grocery store. I had his earplugs along, just in case, but he was fine without them.
We got the boys wristbands, so they could ride as often as they liked. They both would take several spins on their favorites, and tried a few others. The roller coasters are now a great favorite, even with Andy. One problem with Trimper's is a lack of shade. They have benches, but almost all of them are in bright, sunny locations, and are therefore of limited use. To get cooled off, the best option is to slip into the indoor section, where the kids' rides and the carousel are, and sit on a bench near the door to take advantage of cross breeze.
One of the rides the boys tried was a pirate ship that was something like a funhouse. You go in and it rocks, and there are little sections of things to walk through, like big rubber bands or moving floors, and on either end are little rooms with fake pirate scenes in them. Then you go up onto the deck and slide down a big moving slide. Andy wandered in while Joey was taking an extra turn on the roller coaster, but he decided it was too scary and he didn't like it.
The boys then played games and won lots of prizes. Joey's favorite games are the water pistols- he seems to beat Mommy a lot at those. Andy like the frogs ponds and Whack a Mole, both of which require you to beat on things. Hmmmm...While Andy was taking a turn at a game, Joey decided to check out the pirate ship. In he went, and I directed my attention to the slide, as Andy had not been in the ship long, and I figured JOey would probably run right through, too. However, the film of them sliding down stuff is often nice, they like slides.
Only he never appeared.
I started getting nervous. He had been in there a while. Alan had the brilliant idea of asking Andy to go look for his brother, even though he thought the ride was a little scary. A minute later, he came down the slide and said Joey wasn't there.
Baffled, I bought the required tickets and went in myself. Sure enough- no Joey. Can you say, "panic"?
I came back out to see Allan leading Joey over to Grandma and Andy (having that extra set of hands is a godsend, I can tell you)- he had decided he was hot, and gone in to the shady indoor section to cool off, smart little guy. Nearly gave us a heart attack, but we were cheering that he was recognizing his needs and thinking of ways to meet them, rather than melting down. And besides, he was OK, and we now had him.
We all went in and let the boys ride the carousel to their hearts' content. Joey rode it six times. Andy went four, then wandered over the the bumper cars (the kid ones- he's really in-between the kiddie ones and the big ones, but he's definitely NOT ready for the big ones). When Joey finally decided to change animals, he gave his giraffe a hug and kiss.
Andy first rode a deer, then fell in love with the sea dragon. We were impressed with him voluntarily riding it. Remember, two summers ago, we couldn't get him on anything at all! Carousels are actually a lot more exciting than they look- the speed and passing all the lights and colors and people, it can be really something. 
Joey rode it until he almost fell asleep. And so ended our first Trimper's adventure. But don't worry. We went back.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
It Was The Best of Times, It Was the Worst of Times
We're back from the beach. We'll be blogging after I get a good couple shots of vodka in my system and a few deep breaths, and lots of boy hugging.
Coming attractions:
Joey loves the beach, so why won't he leave the hotel room?
Andy joins a high sea adventure upon the Duckaneer!
Trimpers. Woo-hoo! Boys win lots of prizes!
We find pirate gold and baby crabs.
Mommy forgets to bring the earplugs to Marty's.
Joey opens the door- while the car is still moving. (No one fell out or was hurt. But, HOLY FRIJOLES!!!)
The good news is that both boys are already planning next year's Ocean City vacation. They want to go back to the Majestic (where we were last year). Andy is plotting on making his own carnival here, so he can win his own prizes and make his own games. Joey is planning on how to practice his skeeball, and bragging about his score.
The bad news is Mommy needs a drink.
Coming attractions:
Joey loves the beach, so why won't he leave the hotel room?
Andy joins a high sea adventure upon the Duckaneer!
Trimpers. Woo-hoo! Boys win lots of prizes!
We find pirate gold and baby crabs.
Mommy forgets to bring the earplugs to Marty's.
Joey opens the door- while the car is still moving. (No one fell out or was hurt. But, HOLY FRIJOLES!!!)
The good news is that both boys are already planning next year's Ocean City vacation. They want to go back to the Majestic (where we were last year). Andy is plotting on making his own carnival here, so he can win his own prizes and make his own games. Joey is planning on how to practice his skeeball, and bragging about his score.
The bad news is Mommy needs a drink.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Friday, August 06, 2010
Wednesday, August 04, 2010
The Summer As We Saw It.
"Joey did great! He's had a great time! He's really adjusting! He's going to be fine."
You'd think these words would be comforting. I honestly believe they were intended as comforting. We sent my child to four weeks of summer programming- an excellent summer enrichment program, by the way- to try to transition him to a new school and new people. We knew it wasn't going to be a waltz through the tulips. However, what I saw was not encouraging.
What I usually see is a happy Joey pitching in and hamming it up, grinning to be in front of people and showing off, or at least showing off for Mommy. You get used to seeing Joey having fun doing stuff, even when he isn't the most perfect or graceful about it (well, to other people. To me, he looks absolutely wonderful.)
I am not used to seeing this:
He then had to have the teacher come get him from my arms, and go for a walk with the special ed teacher. Oh, he had earplugs in; but it was all too much. Too many people, too much noise, too much to try to coordinate and do. The other child you see the teacher working with? He didn't get ESY services in his IEP, he's there as a "regular" attendee. I could rant on about that from several different angles. Let's just stick to noting that Joey is unhappy, and bolting- something that occurred all of twice at school all of the previous school year, but was apparently a regular occurrence during the summer program, and certainly has become a regular enough occurrence here that we are considering upping the security on our doors (he's figured out the keys, and soon will figure out how to reach them). I had been thinking our parking hangtag was going to be obsolete by renewal time, now I'm thinking, no, we'll be renewing it- and that is still two years away. About the time we will be transitioning to the next new school.
I love hearing that Joey is doing great and fine and having fun. But it would sure be more convincing if we saw some evidence of truth in it.
You'd think these words would be comforting. I honestly believe they were intended as comforting. We sent my child to four weeks of summer programming- an excellent summer enrichment program, by the way- to try to transition him to a new school and new people. We knew it wasn't going to be a waltz through the tulips. However, what I saw was not encouraging.
What I usually see is a happy Joey pitching in and hamming it up, grinning to be in front of people and showing off, or at least showing off for Mommy. You get used to seeing Joey having fun doing stuff, even when he isn't the most perfect or graceful about it (well, to other people. To me, he looks absolutely wonderful.)
I am not used to seeing this:
He then had to have the teacher come get him from my arms, and go for a walk with the special ed teacher. Oh, he had earplugs in; but it was all too much. Too many people, too much noise, too much to try to coordinate and do. The other child you see the teacher working with? He didn't get ESY services in his IEP, he's there as a "regular" attendee. I could rant on about that from several different angles. Let's just stick to noting that Joey is unhappy, and bolting- something that occurred all of twice at school all of the previous school year, but was apparently a regular occurrence during the summer program, and certainly has become a regular enough occurrence here that we are considering upping the security on our doors (he's figured out the keys, and soon will figure out how to reach them). I had been thinking our parking hangtag was going to be obsolete by renewal time, now I'm thinking, no, we'll be renewing it- and that is still two years away. About the time we will be transitioning to the next new school.
I love hearing that Joey is doing great and fine and having fun. But it would sure be more convincing if we saw some evidence of truth in it.
Monday, August 02, 2010
Sunday, August 01, 2010
Beach Camp Week: In Preparation for the Real Thing
This week, I am thinking of doing a Beach Camp with the boys, since next week, we will be At the Beach. This might be tricky, since Joey has been something of a lump of anxious nerves since summer started, and part of the idea is to give him some structure. On the other hand, I need to limit expenses, as we need every dime we can put hands on to spend at the beach, since we will be there a whole week.
I thought the highlight of the week should be the Aquarium in Baltimore, but there are few roadblocks to this. For one, Joey has not been riding well in the car, and to ad to his anxiety, my van died. We're in a small neon right now. Two hours in a neon might not be good for the child's nerves. I also must consider he is facing a 4-hour trek to the beach in a week. For two, the aquarium is something of a love-hate thing for Joey. He loves the dolphins, the fish, the mirrors. He hates the dark and crowded parts. Do I risk adding anxiety in hopes that he will have a good time, in face of lots of new and exciting things in a week's time? On the other hand, it may be our chance for the summer to get up there. After we get back from the beach, Joey starts OT camp, and shortly thereafter my classes start. He has been saying he is interested in being a lifeguard, and he loves the dolphin show, and catching his interest might be worth the risk.
I also want to set up a schedule for the day, something I can put on paper and stick to. This is very difficult for us, as life is in constant flux, and things change quickly. I'd like for the days to go something like this:
7-8am: Rise and shine, get dressed and ready for the day.
8-9am: Breakfast
9-10:30 am: Mom works with grandma at the office. Boys get playtime or work on worksheets and reading.
10:30-10:45- Snacktime.
10:45-12:45: Pooltime. (Joey has swimming lesson at 11 on Fridays, so that would be covered).
12:45-2:00: lunch.
2:00-4:00 Camp Time!. (On Tuesdays, we have Speech Therapy at 2, and OT at 3-4, so this would be covered)
*** 2:00-2:30 Science Activity 1
***2:30-3:00 Craft Activity
***3:00-3:30 Science Activity 2
***3:30-4:00 Snack Activity
4:00-5:45- Pool Time.
5:45-6:30- Dinner
6:30-7:30- Boy Relaxation.
7:30- Time to start bedtime routines.
Now I just have to come up with all those activity things. I have some awesome science kits that Mom got for us, so if we don't have to stay too focused on a theme, we should do OK. I also have this odd feeling that I may need to clean my house- space and organization might be helpful. Fortunately, my summer classes are done, so I have a few minutes. After I set up the fall classes, of course, Yeeps. Oh, and Monday I have to stop by my college and turn in some paperwork. And then... and then...
Have activity suggestions? I'd love 'em! :)
I thought the highlight of the week should be the Aquarium in Baltimore, but there are few roadblocks to this. For one, Joey has not been riding well in the car, and to ad to his anxiety, my van died. We're in a small neon right now. Two hours in a neon might not be good for the child's nerves. I also must consider he is facing a 4-hour trek to the beach in a week. For two, the aquarium is something of a love-hate thing for Joey. He loves the dolphins, the fish, the mirrors. He hates the dark and crowded parts. Do I risk adding anxiety in hopes that he will have a good time, in face of lots of new and exciting things in a week's time? On the other hand, it may be our chance for the summer to get up there. After we get back from the beach, Joey starts OT camp, and shortly thereafter my classes start. He has been saying he is interested in being a lifeguard, and he loves the dolphin show, and catching his interest might be worth the risk.
I also want to set up a schedule for the day, something I can put on paper and stick to. This is very difficult for us, as life is in constant flux, and things change quickly. I'd like for the days to go something like this:
7-8am: Rise and shine, get dressed and ready for the day.
8-9am: Breakfast
9-10:30 am: Mom works with grandma at the office. Boys get playtime or work on worksheets and reading.
10:30-10:45- Snacktime.
10:45-12:45: Pooltime. (Joey has swimming lesson at 11 on Fridays, so that would be covered).
12:45-2:00: lunch.
2:00-4:00 Camp Time!. (On Tuesdays, we have Speech Therapy at 2, and OT at 3-4, so this would be covered)
*** 2:00-2:30 Science Activity 1
***2:30-3:00 Craft Activity
***3:00-3:30 Science Activity 2
***3:30-4:00 Snack Activity
4:00-5:45- Pool Time.
5:45-6:30- Dinner
6:30-7:30- Boy Relaxation.
7:30- Time to start bedtime routines.
Now I just have to come up with all those activity things. I have some awesome science kits that Mom got for us, so if we don't have to stay too focused on a theme, we should do OK. I also have this odd feeling that I may need to clean my house- space and organization might be helpful. Fortunately, my summer classes are done, so I have a few minutes. After I set up the fall classes, of course, Yeeps. Oh, and Monday I have to stop by my college and turn in some paperwork. And then... and then...
Have activity suggestions? I'd love 'em! :)
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
When Summer Ends, Yet Isn't Over
Tomorrow is Joey's last day at his school program. The rest of ESY for him will be two weeks of OT in two weeks. It's been a wild month. Joey's been a real roller-coaster, with a lot of anxiety, a lot more stimming and acting out, and not a lot of talking about his day at school. None of these are good signs. Since these new folks don't know what Joey can do, I am very concerned that they think this has gone well because he has been "managed" and gotten through the program. From what I see here, we have a huge problem, and it is not likely to get better before the fall.
On another front, Andy's last T-Ball game was (finally) today. He wants me to sign him up for soccer in the fall. I think I will only put my money down if they can tell me who the coaches are. I don't really care who they are, as long as I am not one of them. I didn't know anything about T-Ball, and I doubt any of my players will be interested in playing this coming spring. I know even less about soccer.
So here we are, at the end of summer, and yet we still have five weeks before school gets going. Well, until the boys' school gets going. Mine starts Aug 19, provided I can get my classes back into the system!
On another front, Andy's last T-Ball game was (finally) today. He wants me to sign him up for soccer in the fall. I think I will only put my money down if they can tell me who the coaches are. I don't really care who they are, as long as I am not one of them. I didn't know anything about T-Ball, and I doubt any of my players will be interested in playing this coming spring. I know even less about soccer.
So here we are, at the end of summer, and yet we still have five weeks before school gets going. Well, until the boys' school gets going. Mine starts Aug 19, provided I can get my classes back into the system!
Monday, July 26, 2010
Moments to Blush
You know, life happens. And sometimes you wonder if you're being a little selfish about it. I had two moments today with that oddish feeling that the world is staring at me, and perhaps I was feeling a bit selfish about it.
This morning, we chugged through our routine- take Dad to work because we're down to one working car, get Joey bundled off to ESY, take Andy to his beloved nature camp. I signed Andy up for three sessions of said camp, and last week folks looked surprised and explained that it was the exact same camp. That doesn't bother us. In fact, that's a good thing for us, because then Andy knows what to expect. And he's superlatively happy at the camp. He was so happy, he put on his camp t-shirt proudly to go to camp, chattering happily about playing in the creek and which footprint cast he was going to make this week.
This morning, we had a different set of ladies running said camp than we have had for the last two sessions. This time, the lady comes down the walk, calling "Are you Andy's mom?" Startled, I responded to the affirmative; and was promptly treated to a lecture about how the director of summer activities had been trying to call us all weekend and we were not supposed to sign up for more than one session because there was a waiting list and other kids didn't get a chance to come to the camp at all and...
... and I took Andy's hand, turned to the car, with a comment to the effect of, "Well, we certainly do not want to be someplace we are not welcome." It was not the gracious thing to say; saying nothing would probably have been far better. We went down to the parks and rec office and pulled Andy from the remaining summer activities, and demanded refunds; and the ladies there were gracious (and intelligent) enough to comply immediately and without comment. There was a note there from the director of summer activities, too, so they were kind of expecting us; probably helped. And I must say, Mama Bear is a rather large, imposing woman with a face like thunder when she is Unhappy, which probably also helped.
But the result is that Andy cannot go to his beloved camp. Now, when we got home some hours later, there was a handwritten note from the director of summer activities stuck in my door with some nonsense about how she wanted to just refund the first day and he was welcome to go the rest of the week, but I have no interest in leaving my child with that lady who felt it appropriate to berate me in front of not only my own child, but the other parents and children who were arriving for the camp. It was not only mortifying, but I have a few questions about judgment, there. And how will these people feel about my child now? No, I'm not taking a chance on that. Camp Andy shall be hastily gathered together and implemented. It shall involve fun things like wading in Grandma's river, going to the Bug Box (which we did today), and making bean mosaics (I happened to pick up some beans on the reduced rack just last week for the purpose of making mosaics...) If I am feeling really chipper, I might even get out stuff to make chocolate mold casts (I don't have footprint molds, but I have plenty of rabbits and Santas!). Maybe we'll use plaster- or maybe we'll use chocolate. ;) And next week? JoeyAndy Camp commences! I am considering a trip to the National Aquarium in Baltimore, as a replacement for "Under the Sea" and a prelude to our week at the beach.
Such were my cranking gears and thoughts as Joey came home and it was time for lunch. I decided to take them to their favorite Monday restaurant (it serves mac and cheese on Mondays, so Joey is all about it; and Andy likes the toy machines, where he can get mini glow sticks for a quarter). It's a lovely little place, very homey, been going there since I was a nipper myself. It has all-you-can-eat veggies and salad and stuff, and AYCE ice cream in the bargain, so I usually have happy boys getting their own food and feeling that modicum of control over their lives that young boys like.
But today, I accidentally spilled my drink onto one of Joey's Zhu Zhu Pets (the pet is fine, all dry, no worries). Joey has been very out-of-sorts this summer. I don't think he's doing that well with his ESY program- too many kids and too many field trips, not enough normalcy and routine that he needs- and the insanity of summer just gets to him. He gets a little hair-triggery, and this didn't even need a hair trigger, it was a perfectly obvious trigger. He did a lap around the restaurant, screaming "He's ruined! My Zhu Zhu Pet is ruined!" at the top of his lungs.
The moment of deafening silence in the restaurant as I caught the upset child and hugged him nearly broke my heart. So often, we are mostly invisible in public, and especially in familiar settings such as this restaurant. He had been overwhelmed by an avalanche of small things: a morning at busy ESY, the hub-bub of the public space with his growing sound sensitivity, the fact that we left immediately for lunch, so he didn't get his few minutes of computer time, Andy demanding his attention and barraging him with questions and instructions for playing, and then the drink spilled upon his beloved toy... and these are the things I can immediately report.
"You're OK," I said to calm him, "Look, I have the Zhu Zhu all dry, its OK, I am so sorry. You're OK."
"She says that kid is OK," I heard the lady in the next booth say quite clearly, "but clearly he's not OK." Perhaps I am a little sensitive or paranoid, but the way this was said, and the fact that she was speaking to the person next to her, yet looking straight at us, I'm sure this was meant for us. The waitress thought so, too, because she said something I didn't catch, very quietly, to the lady. I decided to simply ignore it at the moment, and get Joey to his seat and finishing his lunch. Our waitress fussed over him a little, making sure his drink was filled, asking if he needed anything, directing her attention to him, which also distracted him and got him re-settled.
We went out to see my mom after, and the boys were raising a rumpus (did I mention they are a little out of sorts?), and I told her about it, including the moment of silence. She immediately changed the subject. Again, talking about it in front of him was not a moment of good grace. So what if I felt all those eyes upon us? Life isn't all about me; the important thing is to get Joey calm and help him cope with being overwhelmed. How does he feel to hear his mommy talk about a moment he, too, may have found embarrassing?
I wish I could now write a paragraph as I did about Andy's situation, with all the creative and constructive things I will be doing to make this right. But I just don't see a lot I can do to make embarrassing my child in front of his grandmother right. We will talk about it some, I will ask the OT what I can do, we will try to assess situations faster and avoid the overwhelm better. And talking about my own feelings of such moments with mom? I'll wait until he's in bed asleep. It will keep (and if it doesn't, perhaps that's for the best, too).
This morning, we chugged through our routine- take Dad to work because we're down to one working car, get Joey bundled off to ESY, take Andy to his beloved nature camp. I signed Andy up for three sessions of said camp, and last week folks looked surprised and explained that it was the exact same camp. That doesn't bother us. In fact, that's a good thing for us, because then Andy knows what to expect. And he's superlatively happy at the camp. He was so happy, he put on his camp t-shirt proudly to go to camp, chattering happily about playing in the creek and which footprint cast he was going to make this week.
This morning, we had a different set of ladies running said camp than we have had for the last two sessions. This time, the lady comes down the walk, calling "Are you Andy's mom?" Startled, I responded to the affirmative; and was promptly treated to a lecture about how the director of summer activities had been trying to call us all weekend and we were not supposed to sign up for more than one session because there was a waiting list and other kids didn't get a chance to come to the camp at all and...
... and I took Andy's hand, turned to the car, with a comment to the effect of, "Well, we certainly do not want to be someplace we are not welcome." It was not the gracious thing to say; saying nothing would probably have been far better. We went down to the parks and rec office and pulled Andy from the remaining summer activities, and demanded refunds; and the ladies there were gracious (and intelligent) enough to comply immediately and without comment. There was a note there from the director of summer activities, too, so they were kind of expecting us; probably helped. And I must say, Mama Bear is a rather large, imposing woman with a face like thunder when she is Unhappy, which probably also helped.
But the result is that Andy cannot go to his beloved camp. Now, when we got home some hours later, there was a handwritten note from the director of summer activities stuck in my door with some nonsense about how she wanted to just refund the first day and he was welcome to go the rest of the week, but I have no interest in leaving my child with that lady who felt it appropriate to berate me in front of not only my own child, but the other parents and children who were arriving for the camp. It was not only mortifying, but I have a few questions about judgment, there. And how will these people feel about my child now? No, I'm not taking a chance on that. Camp Andy shall be hastily gathered together and implemented. It shall involve fun things like wading in Grandma's river, going to the Bug Box (which we did today), and making bean mosaics (I happened to pick up some beans on the reduced rack just last week for the purpose of making mosaics...) If I am feeling really chipper, I might even get out stuff to make chocolate mold casts (I don't have footprint molds, but I have plenty of rabbits and Santas!). Maybe we'll use plaster- or maybe we'll use chocolate. ;) And next week? JoeyAndy Camp commences! I am considering a trip to the National Aquarium in Baltimore, as a replacement for "Under the Sea" and a prelude to our week at the beach.
Such were my cranking gears and thoughts as Joey came home and it was time for lunch. I decided to take them to their favorite Monday restaurant (it serves mac and cheese on Mondays, so Joey is all about it; and Andy likes the toy machines, where he can get mini glow sticks for a quarter). It's a lovely little place, very homey, been going there since I was a nipper myself. It has all-you-can-eat veggies and salad and stuff, and AYCE ice cream in the bargain, so I usually have happy boys getting their own food and feeling that modicum of control over their lives that young boys like.
But today, I accidentally spilled my drink onto one of Joey's Zhu Zhu Pets (the pet is fine, all dry, no worries). Joey has been very out-of-sorts this summer. I don't think he's doing that well with his ESY program- too many kids and too many field trips, not enough normalcy and routine that he needs- and the insanity of summer just gets to him. He gets a little hair-triggery, and this didn't even need a hair trigger, it was a perfectly obvious trigger. He did a lap around the restaurant, screaming "He's ruined! My Zhu Zhu Pet is ruined!" at the top of his lungs.
The moment of deafening silence in the restaurant as I caught the upset child and hugged him nearly broke my heart. So often, we are mostly invisible in public, and especially in familiar settings such as this restaurant. He had been overwhelmed by an avalanche of small things: a morning at busy ESY, the hub-bub of the public space with his growing sound sensitivity, the fact that we left immediately for lunch, so he didn't get his few minutes of computer time, Andy demanding his attention and barraging him with questions and instructions for playing, and then the drink spilled upon his beloved toy... and these are the things I can immediately report.
"You're OK," I said to calm him, "Look, I have the Zhu Zhu all dry, its OK, I am so sorry. You're OK."
"She says that kid is OK," I heard the lady in the next booth say quite clearly, "but clearly he's not OK." Perhaps I am a little sensitive or paranoid, but the way this was said, and the fact that she was speaking to the person next to her, yet looking straight at us, I'm sure this was meant for us. The waitress thought so, too, because she said something I didn't catch, very quietly, to the lady. I decided to simply ignore it at the moment, and get Joey to his seat and finishing his lunch. Our waitress fussed over him a little, making sure his drink was filled, asking if he needed anything, directing her attention to him, which also distracted him and got him re-settled.
We went out to see my mom after, and the boys were raising a rumpus (did I mention they are a little out of sorts?), and I told her about it, including the moment of silence. She immediately changed the subject. Again, talking about it in front of him was not a moment of good grace. So what if I felt all those eyes upon us? Life isn't all about me; the important thing is to get Joey calm and help him cope with being overwhelmed. How does he feel to hear his mommy talk about a moment he, too, may have found embarrassing?
I wish I could now write a paragraph as I did about Andy's situation, with all the creative and constructive things I will be doing to make this right. But I just don't see a lot I can do to make embarrassing my child in front of his grandmother right. We will talk about it some, I will ask the OT what I can do, we will try to assess situations faster and avoid the overwhelm better. And talking about my own feelings of such moments with mom? I'll wait until he's in bed asleep. It will keep (and if it doesn't, perhaps that's for the best, too).
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Glimpses of a Week In My World
Some weeks make you want to jump up and down screaming excitedly. And some make you want to run screaming into the night. Most weeks end up with a little of both. So, let's not talk about the blown head gasket in the car I just put the transmission into. Or the broken AC and needed timing belt in the other car. The meltdown moments of heat and frustration. The bout of heat exhaustion because I was stupid enough to try to cut a path down to the river at mom's house in a 120 degree heat index. Andy's erratic behavior all week. Not shall we mention the fact that my courses for the fall disappeared from the college computer system and my department chair is out of town with a family emergency (and for a harrowing night, I thought I had been fired). No, let's set the screaming-into-the-night bits aside.
********
This week in nature camp, Andy made a deer footprint and a boat, and re-connected with his classmate, S. Now, S's mom is one of those totally rockin' moms that steps right in to the thick of things and pitches. When the school had Math and Science night, and decided to send second graders in one direction and kindergardeners in another, she stepped right up and went with Andy and S while I had Joey and her second-grader son, M. I promptly lost M (we managed to track him down, but... how embarrassing!) but she was cool enough to not get bent out of shape. As far as I know. To continue to prove how rockin' she is, she actually came over one morning when we were picking up from camp and said, "hey, I'm sorry, I forgot your name, but I know you."
I have a lot of respect for people who do that, because I have a heck of a time remembering names. So I told her I was Joeymom, and then noted that I had no idea what her name was, either, and she told me it was Smom, and then said, "I've heard that you remember people's names better if you keep saying it. So, Hi Joeymom! How are you, Joeymom? We're so glad to see you, Joeymom!" And we spent the rest of the week calling each other by name every sentence. Guess what? It works!
********
I signed Joey up for another round of swimming lessons. He has expressed interest in being a lifeguard and joining the swim team, and all the lifeguards now know him, so I cornered the one that gives lessons and got her to agree. For ten dollars, Joey get a half-hour of Red Cross-based swimming instruction and I get to write my silly little stories in my spiral-bound notebooks and not have to worry about him drowning or anything or half an hour. That's ten bucks well spent, I tell you. (I ravage Walmart this time of year for those 15-cent notebooks. The year they were five cents? I went CRAZY. And still ran out.) It went a lot better than I was expecting. The young lady, Miss K, did a great job holding his focus to the task and making her expectations clear, and demonstrating what she wanted him to do. I think a lot of folks have their kids do a couple of lessons and leave it; I've let Miss K know we're here for a while. My original thought was that it might take longer for him to process the lessons and b able to perform. Now Im just thinking he's loving the lesson and might get his form together enough to be on the swim team next year if he is so inclined. That rocks.
********
We've seen a lot of our across-the-street-neighbor this week. We've had a lot of fun spoiling him- taking him to lunches, letting him jabber about anything he likes, dunking him the pool, and buying him Zhu Zhu pets. He's a funny little guy, hyper and bouncy like Andy. This has been a little bit on Joey's nerves, truth be told, because Joey doesn't handle lightning-fast play and bouncing very well. However, Andy is thrilled- mostly- to have a friend over so much. What a threesome!
*********
I have my fabric sorted into the quilt projects I want to work on. There's only... 8 of them. Not too bad. I do very utilitarian quilts- 6", 8", or 10" squares of fabrics, quilted down the gutters on my machine. By just doing big patches, I get to enjoy the fabrics, and have a lot less cutting and piecing to do. When I get a chance to do it at all. Um, I'll keep you posted.
********
With it being 103 degrees and 120 heat index, I've been doing a lot of watering in the morning and the evening in the garden. My tomatoes have understandably stopped producing, and the lawn is crunchy. I got Grandmother's Rose mulched in today, in case we get any water falling form the sky or anything like that. ITs a great opportunity to mulch, because all the weeds I usually have got whacked down when I had the yard worked on, and its been too hot for them to grow in again. Of course, the problem is that it is also 103 degrees and 120 heat index. Not conducive to gardenwork.
********
I have the room reserved. I have Luna's week at the Cat Spa (aka the Vet's Office) arranged. I am starting my lists of Things To Pack. This is Finals Week, so I won't have any grading to do, grades will be all turned in. Yes, it is time to start prepping for The Beach! Two weeks and counting down! (Um, how do I keep the fish alive for a week while we're gone?) I can hardly wait for a week of sand, sea, and boy squishing!
********
This week in nature camp, Andy made a deer footprint and a boat, and re-connected with his classmate, S. Now, S's mom is one of those totally rockin' moms that steps right in to the thick of things and pitches. When the school had Math and Science night, and decided to send second graders in one direction and kindergardeners in another, she stepped right up and went with Andy and S while I had Joey and her second-grader son, M. I promptly lost M (we managed to track him down, but... how embarrassing!) but she was cool enough to not get bent out of shape. As far as I know. To continue to prove how rockin' she is, she actually came over one morning when we were picking up from camp and said, "hey, I'm sorry, I forgot your name, but I know you."
I have a lot of respect for people who do that, because I have a heck of a time remembering names. So I told her I was Joeymom, and then noted that I had no idea what her name was, either, and she told me it was Smom, and then said, "I've heard that you remember people's names better if you keep saying it. So, Hi Joeymom! How are you, Joeymom? We're so glad to see you, Joeymom!" And we spent the rest of the week calling each other by name every sentence. Guess what? It works!
********
I signed Joey up for another round of swimming lessons. He has expressed interest in being a lifeguard and joining the swim team, and all the lifeguards now know him, so I cornered the one that gives lessons and got her to agree. For ten dollars, Joey get a half-hour of Red Cross-based swimming instruction and I get to write my silly little stories in my spiral-bound notebooks and not have to worry about him drowning or anything or half an hour. That's ten bucks well spent, I tell you. (I ravage Walmart this time of year for those 15-cent notebooks. The year they were five cents? I went CRAZY. And still ran out.) It went a lot better than I was expecting. The young lady, Miss K, did a great job holding his focus to the task and making her expectations clear, and demonstrating what she wanted him to do. I think a lot of folks have their kids do a couple of lessons and leave it; I've let Miss K know we're here for a while. My original thought was that it might take longer for him to process the lessons and b able to perform. Now Im just thinking he's loving the lesson and might get his form together enough to be on the swim team next year if he is so inclined. That rocks.
********
We've seen a lot of our across-the-street-neighbor this week. We've had a lot of fun spoiling him- taking him to lunches, letting him jabber about anything he likes, dunking him the pool, and buying him Zhu Zhu pets. He's a funny little guy, hyper and bouncy like Andy. This has been a little bit on Joey's nerves, truth be told, because Joey doesn't handle lightning-fast play and bouncing very well. However, Andy is thrilled- mostly- to have a friend over so much. What a threesome!
*********
I have my fabric sorted into the quilt projects I want to work on. There's only... 8 of them. Not too bad. I do very utilitarian quilts- 6", 8", or 10" squares of fabrics, quilted down the gutters on my machine. By just doing big patches, I get to enjoy the fabrics, and have a lot less cutting and piecing to do. When I get a chance to do it at all. Um, I'll keep you posted.
********
With it being 103 degrees and 120 heat index, I've been doing a lot of watering in the morning and the evening in the garden. My tomatoes have understandably stopped producing, and the lawn is crunchy. I got Grandmother's Rose mulched in today, in case we get any water falling form the sky or anything like that. ITs a great opportunity to mulch, because all the weeds I usually have got whacked down when I had the yard worked on, and its been too hot for them to grow in again. Of course, the problem is that it is also 103 degrees and 120 heat index. Not conducive to gardenwork.
********
I have the room reserved. I have Luna's week at the Cat Spa (aka the Vet's Office) arranged. I am starting my lists of Things To Pack. This is Finals Week, so I won't have any grading to do, grades will be all turned in. Yes, it is time to start prepping for The Beach! Two weeks and counting down! (Um, how do I keep the fish alive for a week while we're gone?) I can hardly wait for a week of sand, sea, and boy squishing!
When I Win The Lottery
1. No one I know will have a mortgage. Just sayin'.
2. We're going to buy one of these big empty box stores and renovate it into a therapy center. Special needs services and a school will be there- as well as a beauty salon that offers 20-minute and 30-minute treatments and haircuts for $20-$30, a nice coffeeshop and lunch counter, and lots of recliners.
3. I'm going to buy one of the last remaining stretches of trees and land in town, maybe that farm in the middle of Central Park, and build a nature center, with plenty of space and activities inside as well as outside. Oh, and have some big fiberglass dinosaurs and stuff outside. All fenced in, safe and sound.
4. I'm buying one of those million-dollar condos on the Ocean City boardwalk. You're all invited.
5. All those special devices that would be awesome for our kids to have to support them? All taken care of.
6. And those 1:1 aides they could all use in school? Done.
2. We're going to buy one of these big empty box stores and renovate it into a therapy center. Special needs services and a school will be there- as well as a beauty salon that offers 20-minute and 30-minute treatments and haircuts for $20-$30, a nice coffeeshop and lunch counter, and lots of recliners.
3. I'm going to buy one of the last remaining stretches of trees and land in town, maybe that farm in the middle of Central Park, and build a nature center, with plenty of space and activities inside as well as outside. Oh, and have some big fiberglass dinosaurs and stuff outside. All fenced in, safe and sound.
4. I'm buying one of those million-dollar condos on the Ocean City boardwalk. You're all invited.
5. All those special devices that would be awesome for our kids to have to support them? All taken care of.
6. And those 1:1 aides they could all use in school? Done.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
So, how's your week going?
My car is dead. Blew the head gasket.
The spare car sprung a leak in the cooling system and needs a new timing belt.
Joey had a hard time with his field trip to the museum today- hard enough for me to even get a note from the new aide (who is here just for the summer... but we may discuss some of these issues in a start-of-year IEP).
Andy had a hard enough day that he lost two stars.
My poor mom was in the hospital for almost 2 days to do a test that came up... nothing.
Everyone seems to bouncing off the walls here!
It could be worse, but its not conducive to blog writing. Be back when I have a minute to think.
The spare car sprung a leak in the cooling system and needs a new timing belt.
Joey had a hard time with his field trip to the museum today- hard enough for me to even get a note from the new aide (who is here just for the summer... but we may discuss some of these issues in a start-of-year IEP).
Andy had a hard enough day that he lost two stars.
My poor mom was in the hospital for almost 2 days to do a test that came up... nothing.
Everyone seems to bouncing off the walls here!
It could be worse, but its not conducive to blog writing. Be back when I have a minute to think.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Stepping Forward, Stepping Out
Joey did some pretty amazing things this week.
He looked forward and anticipated both joy and discomfort.
He knew he was anxious, and knew exactly what he was anxious about.
He communicated that anxiety to others- us, Grandma, Ms. Macy.
He helped think up solutions for situations that he anticipated would be uncomfortable.
When he became uncomfortable, he communicated his discomfort to others.
He voiced ideas for relieving his anxiety and discomfort, and communicated what he needed effectively.
When an attempted solution didn't work, he communicated his continued discomfort.
He independently attempted calming techniques to try to alleviate his own discomfort and anxiety.
Can we all hear a collective, "WOW!!!"?
Joey and I were at the pool yesterday, as we so often are. The pool was closing at 4 for a swim meet, but that suited us fine- we had to go home and get ready to get Andy. Joey and our Awesome Neighbor jumped off the diving board a few times when we first arrived, then they headed for the shallower water as they got tired.
To my surprise, about 3:30, as I was gathering up our stuff to make room for the folks starting to arrive for the swim meet, I noticed Joey padding his way to the diving board. That's odd, I thought. He doesn't usually like to jump in the deep water when we've been here this long already.
As I set my armful of towels down, I watched him step out from the diving board, and thought, Oh, good job, jumping out instead of just stepping off.
I heard the splash. I heard the cry in his unmistakeable little voice: "Oh! Help! I'm stuck!" He was treading the water fine, but not going anywhere, and he was already tired.
Before I could set my legs in motion, the lifeguard was already leaping into the water from his high chair (did I mention how dramatic it is when the lifeguard leaps into the pool from his chair?). As I reached the edge of the pool, Joey was already holding on to the float and almost to the ladder. He climbed out as I profusely thanked the guard.
Then he turned himself, saying, "Thank you for helping me!" and he scuttled back to the shallow end and jumped in. The guard laughed.
As Joey leaps out from the safety of the board into the pool of sensory overload and input, I still get that leap of the heart until his head breaks the water again and I watch with amazement as he swims, a beginner paddle and awkward stroke, to the safety of the ladder. Yet sometimes, it's still good to have a lifeguard close by, just in case we get "stuck."
Thank you, Ms. Macy. We love you. We will miss you.
He looked forward and anticipated both joy and discomfort.
He knew he was anxious, and knew exactly what he was anxious about.
He communicated that anxiety to others- us, Grandma, Ms. Macy.
He helped think up solutions for situations that he anticipated would be uncomfortable.
When he became uncomfortable, he communicated his discomfort to others.
He voiced ideas for relieving his anxiety and discomfort, and communicated what he needed effectively.
When an attempted solution didn't work, he communicated his continued discomfort.
He independently attempted calming techniques to try to alleviate his own discomfort and anxiety.
Can we all hear a collective, "WOW!!!"?
Joey and I were at the pool yesterday, as we so often are. The pool was closing at 4 for a swim meet, but that suited us fine- we had to go home and get ready to get Andy. Joey and our Awesome Neighbor jumped off the diving board a few times when we first arrived, then they headed for the shallower water as they got tired.
To my surprise, about 3:30, as I was gathering up our stuff to make room for the folks starting to arrive for the swim meet, I noticed Joey padding his way to the diving board. That's odd, I thought. He doesn't usually like to jump in the deep water when we've been here this long already.
As I set my armful of towels down, I watched him step out from the diving board, and thought, Oh, good job, jumping out instead of just stepping off.
I heard the splash. I heard the cry in his unmistakeable little voice: "Oh! Help! I'm stuck!" He was treading the water fine, but not going anywhere, and he was already tired.
Before I could set my legs in motion, the lifeguard was already leaping into the water from his high chair (did I mention how dramatic it is when the lifeguard leaps into the pool from his chair?). As I reached the edge of the pool, Joey was already holding on to the float and almost to the ladder. He climbed out as I profusely thanked the guard.
Then he turned himself, saying, "Thank you for helping me!" and he scuttled back to the shallow end and jumped in. The guard laughed.
As Joey leaps out from the safety of the board into the pool of sensory overload and input, I still get that leap of the heart until his head breaks the water again and I watch with amazement as he swims, a beginner paddle and awkward stroke, to the safety of the ladder. Yet sometimes, it's still good to have a lifeguard close by, just in case we get "stuck."
Thank you, Ms. Macy. We love you. We will miss you.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Anxiety and the World of the Bus
I was in the middle reading Andy a bedtime story, when he carefully opened the screen door and crept in. At first I thought he was coming in for a bedtime hug from brother, but then I looked at those red eyes and knew there was more. I hugged him, and all he could do was sob. Daddy called Andy into another room to read, and I hugged my baby tight, covering him in kisses, and began the Guessing Game.
"What's wrong, baby?" I cooed, giving him more kisses as he leaned his little red face on my chest and sobbed.
"I was in the bathtub alone." I frowned. To be honest, this made no sense to me at all; he's been insisting on privacy in the bathroom for over a year.
"Were you scared?" I prompted, "We're right here."
"I'm scared." Part of speaking Joey is trying to untangle the words that make sense from the words that don't, and figure out what are words he is attaching to feelings, and what are words trying to communicate like other people, providing clear information. This is even harder when the words are between sobs and sniffles.
"What are you afraid of, buddy?"
"My brain is hot. It's burning."
"Are you sick?" I feel his forehead, but there is no fever. The words mean something else, then.
"Your brain is burning? What is making your brain hot?"
"It's too long."
"What's too long?"
"The ride! It will take a hundred million years!" Ride. Ride. Long ride. Ah-hah! Field trip tomorrow!
"You have a field trip tomorrow," I nod. "Don't you want to go to the museum?"
"No!" Unfortunately, my wording of that question makes me wonder if I was clear.
"Do you want to go tomorrow?"
"No!" Well, that was clear.
"Are you worried about the field trip?"
"The ride is Too. Long."
"Yes, it's about an hour to Richmond, and then you will go to the museum- the science museum! You love science! What do you think they will have there?"
"I'm afraid of the sharks!"
"Well, they won't have live ones, maybe pictures."
"I don't like sharks."
"You can see other things. Maybe they'll have something about the weather! Or volcanoes!"
"It takes too long!"
"Do you know where the museum is? Do you remember when we go to Maymont? Those big buildings we pass when we get to Richmond? The museum is one of those. So it isn't even as far as Maymont. Just about an hour."
"It is farther than Maymont! It will take a hundred hours!" He breaks into sobs again. "Its too many!"
"Joey, are you worried about the museum, or the ride to the museum."
"The ride!" he wails, but clear as a bell. Ok, now we're getting somewhere.
"You like riding the bus, don't you? You'll be on the bus with Ms. Macy, and all your friends..."
"Too many!"
"You think there are too many people on the bus? Are you worried about the people, or that it will be loud?"
"Too loud!" More sobbing. My brain goes into hyperdrive.
"Well, how about your earphones? Does Ms. Macy have your phones?"
"No!" He's getting a little frantic now; time for a solution.
"Well, how about earplugs? Would you like earplugs?" The "yes" is reluctant, yet he is calming down; he wants to reduce the noise, but this is not the ideal solution for him. He knows he hates having the plugs in his ears.
"How about a music player, with headphones?" I'm thinking out loud. Mom got them headphones for Christmas. We haven't really used them, and they were originally for Andy; but this spike in noise sensitivity in Joey brings them instantly to mind- and besides, they are sitting right next to me. The phones would block out the other noise, and the music fill his ears with something rhythmic and familiar.
"I can listen to my favorite songs!" he almost sings, smiles busting out all over that little red face.
"Yes! Let's go make a CD!"
So I have let him pick out the tunes, have loaded it into the CD player, and emailed the teachers. I'm also sending a note. Let's just hope they have sense enough to let him have it for the ride!
"What's wrong, baby?" I cooed, giving him more kisses as he leaned his little red face on my chest and sobbed.
"I was in the bathtub alone." I frowned. To be honest, this made no sense to me at all; he's been insisting on privacy in the bathroom for over a year.
"Were you scared?" I prompted, "We're right here."
"I'm scared." Part of speaking Joey is trying to untangle the words that make sense from the words that don't, and figure out what are words he is attaching to feelings, and what are words trying to communicate like other people, providing clear information. This is even harder when the words are between sobs and sniffles.
"What are you afraid of, buddy?"
"My brain is hot. It's burning."
"Are you sick?" I feel his forehead, but there is no fever. The words mean something else, then.
"Your brain is burning? What is making your brain hot?"
"It's too long."
"What's too long?"
"The ride! It will take a hundred million years!" Ride. Ride. Long ride. Ah-hah! Field trip tomorrow!
"You have a field trip tomorrow," I nod. "Don't you want to go to the museum?"
"No!" Unfortunately, my wording of that question makes me wonder if I was clear.
"Do you want to go tomorrow?"
"No!" Well, that was clear.
"Are you worried about the field trip?"
"The ride is Too. Long."
"Yes, it's about an hour to Richmond, and then you will go to the museum- the science museum! You love science! What do you think they will have there?"
"I'm afraid of the sharks!"
"Well, they won't have live ones, maybe pictures."
"I don't like sharks."
"You can see other things. Maybe they'll have something about the weather! Or volcanoes!"
"It takes too long!"
"Do you know where the museum is? Do you remember when we go to Maymont? Those big buildings we pass when we get to Richmond? The museum is one of those. So it isn't even as far as Maymont. Just about an hour."
"It is farther than Maymont! It will take a hundred hours!" He breaks into sobs again. "Its too many!"
"Joey, are you worried about the museum, or the ride to the museum."
"The ride!" he wails, but clear as a bell. Ok, now we're getting somewhere.
"You like riding the bus, don't you? You'll be on the bus with Ms. Macy, and all your friends..."
"Too many!"
"You think there are too many people on the bus? Are you worried about the people, or that it will be loud?"
"Too loud!" More sobbing. My brain goes into hyperdrive.
"Well, how about your earphones? Does Ms. Macy have your phones?"
"No!" He's getting a little frantic now; time for a solution.
"Well, how about earplugs? Would you like earplugs?" The "yes" is reluctant, yet he is calming down; he wants to reduce the noise, but this is not the ideal solution for him. He knows he hates having the plugs in his ears.
"How about a music player, with headphones?" I'm thinking out loud. Mom got them headphones for Christmas. We haven't really used them, and they were originally for Andy; but this spike in noise sensitivity in Joey brings them instantly to mind- and besides, they are sitting right next to me. The phones would block out the other noise, and the music fill his ears with something rhythmic and familiar.
"I can listen to my favorite songs!" he almost sings, smiles busting out all over that little red face.
"Yes! Let's go make a CD!"
So I have let him pick out the tunes, have loaded it into the CD player, and emailed the teachers. I'm also sending a note. Let's just hope they have sense enough to let him have it for the ride!
Friday, July 09, 2010
How many Heart Attacks Can You Have in an Hour?
Answer: How many times can your baby jump off a diving board for the first time without floaties? Joey has been padding out to the end of the board most times we've been to the pool, but then backing off. Today, he was jumping into the deep end from the poolside, giving me plenty of skipped heartbeats thankyouverymuch. Then I told him, "honey, just push back up when you reach the bottom!"
Ah hah! Mom had given him the secret! He was on that diving board so fast my head spun and my heart flipped a full somersault. On it, off it, into the water... and back to the surface, like he had been doing it all his life, and giggling like a madman. Wow.
In other news, we have been thoroughly invaded by Zhu Zhu Pets. In fact, I think they are planning a mutiny to take over the house and install Pinkie as Queen of the Universe. I'll keep you posted.Check out the front garden if you have a minute. The back is being cleaned up and I'll have pictures of it when the work is done. Don't panic when you see it, stuff will grow back, and pruning was much needed.
Monday, July 05, 2010
A Weekend of Fun
Ah, the Fourth of July Spectacular! We had a lovely time going to fairs and setting off fireworks and relaxing by the pool!
We got to pet animals at the Spotsy Stars and Stripes Spectacular, including cool alpacas!
We got to feed goats, too, though they weren't very hungry. The best part was that the petting zoo was in the shade- woo-hoo!
Joey got to ride a horse! He liked being on it, but getting on and off was a challenge. Horses are big!
The boys toured an ambulance, and Joey got to tell the rescue squad folks that he took a ride on one when he was four because he was broken.
Most of the afternoon involved waiting in very long lines with no shade. Look in the background, see that tent? That's a mister. I would send them over there to cool off while I held their place.
They got to have some fun all the same. Joey likes barrel rides!
And they had lots of big bouncers again, though we didn't get to get in most of them- long lines in the sun=tired boys.
Andy does love bouncing, though.
After being hot and tired, we decided to sit in the shade with lemonade and cotton candy.
Sunday was the big event- fireworks! Woo-hoo!
We picked out fireworks without whistles, because the boys hate the noise. So we had a great show!
(Yes, I know he's sunburned. that's with SPF 50 sunblock! Yipes! the poor child has inherited my skin!)
Andy liked the colored sparks best, and Joey liked sparkly ones.
Happy Fourth of July!
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