speaking truth. celebrating mistakes. spreading hope.
Then the queasies....I've been actually sick about every other day for a week now - but the nausea is a daily occurrence that usually subsides about noon. This morning was a throw-up day (not by some psycho-somatic schedule, but by actually happening) and after the first heave, I saw some stars dancing around my head. Having experienced edema, changes in visual field and more woefully preeclamptic symptoms while pregnant with LMNOB (who was consequently induced lest I go into eclamptic seizures) I felt my red flags go up....briefly. Because, I would later remember, preeclampsia doesn't usually show up until 20wks or more in a pregnancy. And I'm only 7 wks. So I was left thinking: WTH?
Then, as I swapped roles with the toilet - from bowing down to sitting on it - I realized that my downstairs' flora has, erm, become a bit overgrown, if ya know what I mean. Just because there is a bun in the oven, in my opinion, that is no reason to have yeast overflowing. ANNNNNNNNND - the worst of all that is that I'm out of commission for a week b/c the doc says Monistat 7 is the only way to go whilst pg. No fair!
Hmmm....what else is there to whine about?
My hair - yes my hair. My normally very compliant with heat, gloriously bodied and voluminous hair has decided to rebel against me. Every morning is a battle, and given that my energy is in the tanks, the hair usually wins. And the shade appears to have changed - people keep asking me if I've lightened it and I'm all, "people, I haven't done a damned thing to it - it has a mind of its own lately."
Such has been the reaction people have had when we’ve shared the news about this pregnancy thus far. From family to co-workers to friends, this assumption has remained constant.
It’s not so offensive, given that for the past several years I have resolutely said, “Absolutely not; no more children for us!” But, what people seem to have a hard time wrapping their brains around is that people change; moreover, God can change hearts, relationships and circumstances in miraculous combinations.
People, unaware of this pregnancy, have stopped me at church, my coffee haunts, etc., and have said that I was “glowing” with an air of happiness recently.
And, I am happy. My husband loves me and is treating me with such tenderness and honor that I can’t help but notice and subsequently feel amazingly blessed. Our daughter is adjusting to a new school year much more smoothly than last year, and our son is loving that he’s a “big kid” at school too. Our home life has changed and the quality of our time together has increased.
Then, when I share with them that we are expecting, people do the math of the split this baby will have with his/her siblings (8 yrs and 5 ½ yrs), and say it: “So, this was a ‘surprise,’ then – how are you feeling about that?”
My response is usually a fragmented, “I couldn’t be happier….totally planned….we’re very excited…” because what else is there to say?
So many of the young women at our church are having babies – mostly their first babies, too – and they are all where I was 7 years ago; exhausted, frustrated, disillusioned with motherhood, and frantically trying to get to know these babies that grew inside them for 9 months, but whom they really know nothing about. I understand it because I’ve lived it.
But this time feels different. It WAS different with Punkinhead – I was much more zen with him, despite having a 2 ½ y/o who didn’t quite get why she had to have this new baby in her life. Now, both kids are older and very excited about being Mama’s helpers. I’m more patient with them too, and the prospect of this newest babe is a thrill to my soul. Now, I’m older and more at ease with myself and life in general.
Experience is nothing to be mocked – it is of tremendous value and I know that I’ll be relying on it a lot this go-round.
I told her that so far everything seemed to be going great in LMNOB's eyes; but that in my eyes, the communication was a little lacking from the teacher
"Uhm, yeah," School OT began hesitantly, "all teachers have their own understandings, experience and personalities. We definitely have a different personality this year than we did in Ms. M last year."
School OT then mentioned that Ms. R wanted LMNOB to complete the daily checklist of sensory activities done at school rather than Ms. R having to do it, and that she wanted me to be aware of that prior to the 504 review hearing on the 18th so it didn't surprise me. What did I think about that, she wondered?
My turn to create some lines between which the real message lay.
I said, "Well, I understand that teachers have a lot pulling at them, and that some of these extra accommodations might be strange or burdensome from time to time, and I want to be fair about that. I also think that because LMNOB is so high functioning that this could work, if done appropriately. For instance, if the checklist was on her desk daily and she could check things off as they were done, that would be fine. However, if she's expecting LMNOB to summarize at the end of the day - that will never work."
Between that scphiel was the gist of where I come from:
I am willing to compromise....TO AN EXTENT - this is my kid, not a frickin' floral arrangement at a party, and I don't care how much of an inconvenience this teacher may feel a sensory diet is - a 504 is a legal document and if she doesn't want to cooperate, well, we have recourses that we are able to take.
School OT was quick on the uptake and parroted back my unspoken words, almost exactly as I just wrote them above.
This made me feel great, because it is not me and BT the OT against the school - it's us trying to educate a teacher, and there is power in numbers.
We talked some more about LMNOB's increase in self-regulating with sensory stuff and a decreased need for outsiders to help initiate sensory diet activities for her (great!), as well as her continued struggle with confrontational speech/social issues (not so great), and when all was said and done, it appears that we have a lot to cover in very little time on the 18th.
I just pray that Ms. R is not so obtuse in my presence.
It might just drive me to the brink of tears in my hormonal state right now; I have been successful thus far in avoiding the hysterical parent role and I would REALLY like to keep it that way. (NO offense to any of my special needs mommy readers who have broken down with school folks - I completely understand, but totally hate that it has to be this way with some teachers/administrators!)
Yesterday, when I got home, I still hadn’t sent an e-mail to Ms. R.
Something told me that I needed to gather a bit more information beyond my crappy first impression – I do give people the benefit of the doubt…occasionally.
LMNOB and Punkinhead were lobbing a football back and forth, running and doing sensory stuff, playing together so nicely that they were very dismissive of my pleas to know how their days had gone.
“Good!” Was the immediate response.
“Well, what did you do?”
Punkinhead’s memory is not the most reliable account for kindergarten at this stage in the game: “Weeeeellllll….I kinda don’t re-nembewr,” with a shrug of his shoulders. “We got ‘signed seats on de bus today, and me an’ LMNOB sit togedder!”
“LMNOB, how ‘bout you? What’d you do in class today?”
She ran and retrieved from her backpack a crossword puzzle and a worksheet story that they’d done and showed it to me with grins and elaborations on what the activities had entailed. She seemed really happy and the worries that I’d had earlier in the day dissipated a little.
LMNOB had had some anxiety about going to school on the bus yesterday, because last year she’d preferred to prep for class in the school building rather than playing on the playground and that had been accomplished more easily when I dropped her off and walked in the school with her than if she’d ridden the bus. Wednesday, the prospect of playing on the playground before the bell rang terrified her.
“How’d it go this morning, getting to school?”
“It went good. Punkinhead and I went and played on the playground until the bell rang – then we each went to our classes.”
Wow!
“So, is Ms. R doing anything sensory with you in class yet?”
“Yeah, we’ve done a BUNCH of stuff – crab walking, bunny hops, stretches, and today I showed them ‘starfish,’” she recounted gleefully.
“Good, I’m glad,” I murmured. And I am – I just think that it is too bad that I’m having to dig this info out of my 7 y/o instead of hearing it from the teacher. I mean, is that so control-freaky of me to want to hear from an adult how things are going? Or is it reasonable, especially given LMNOB’s struggles? So I prefaced my whole e-mail with an “I’m glad you are doing things and that they’re going well, but can you please communicate with me?” thesis:
Hi Ms. R,
I’m not sure how much you and Ms. M have had a chance to talk about LMNOB and/or how last year went, but one thing that is extremely important to me is open communication.
It seems like LMNOB’s doing pretty well thus far, which is great! We had a few little bumps in the road Wednesday morning and she had some anxiety yesterday morning about going to school alone – but she did well.
She mentioned that you are already doing some sensory activities in the classroom with them, which I really appreciate and think is fantastic. If you can please keep me in the loop with what’s gone on during the day, I am better equipped for knowing what activities we should be doing at home that evening – i.e. if the school day has had a lot of brain gym activities (crossing midline) perhaps at home we need to be high on the heavy work and vice versa.
Also, at some point I would like to sit down and chat with you about the social part of LMNOB’s issues – initiating and/or responding to conversations that are “confrontational” (that’s a technical term, not at all connoting emotional conflict but rather specific responses to address a need) are very difficult for her and we are focusing our weekly OT on this more to help her. This tendency of hers can at times prove problematic – a few examples: 1.) last year upon finding the door shut (due to weather – it had normally been open) when the bus dropped her off, LMNOB didn’t knock on the door (initiating the specific response of someone opening the door) and instead sat on the porch for 40 minutes, when the provider remembered it was early release day and LMNOB should have been there by now – that one has safety ramifications that I get concerned about 2.) LMNOB got a pink slip last year at recess due to running away from the playground aide and not explaining her side of a dispute. These are all things that I’d like to see less of this year, but should they occur, it is imperative that folks working with LMNOB know the background in order for things to be dealt with appropriately.
I’ve copied BT the OT – our OT that LMNOB sees weekly at LocalRehabCenter. There is a release of information on file for the school to speak with her and I would prefer that our communications include her as much as is possible. BT the OT plans on being in attendance at the 504 mtg on the 18th.
Thank you!
Heather Meyer
This information was then disseminated to LMNOB's teacher, Ms. M. I love Ms. M! Even before we had our 504 plan meeting, she listened, but moreover - she ASKED QUESTIONS! She was and is great, kept the lines of communication open, took the sensory suggestions we wrote into the 504 and RAN to incorporate them into the WHOLE class rather than singling LMNOB out, and well, she was just awesome.
LMNOB is really high-functioning when everyone is on their game, and I'll be damned if their lack of planning/resources makes my kid regress, you know?
Our traditional pictures in front of the willow tree.
How did she get so grown up? I thought last year was so grown up, and let's not forget her first day of kindergarten!
Punkinhead did great!
