I think I need advice.

There’s this kid, M, who went to the same daycare as Frank until they turned four. He left as they were starting preschool. I breathed a sigh of relief when the kid left, because he is a big kid for his age, and he plays roughly. Frank for some bizarre reason was drawn to this kid like a moth to flame, and he was on the receiving end more than once. It turned out, we were not the only parents happy to see this kid leave; parents started confiding in each other, and pretty much all of us had hated this kid for a couple of years! I also found out that he was quietly asked to go by the daycare director. (She didn’t tell me; another parent did. Turns out, this kid had hurt her daughter, badly enough she had to bring the kid to the doctor, and Mom is a lawyer, and you can fill in the blanks...)

 Hooray, we thought, the kid is gone, and he lives in the next town over, so he and Frank won’t meet up again until high school, and then they probably won’t even remember each other.

So, Frank started playing rugby in a tri-town team, and guess who’s on his team? Yep, M. Now, in the four weeks they’ve played so far, the only times I’ve witnessed the coach really yelling at Frank for not paying attention have been when he’s been goofing around with M. Then, last week, at practice, M grabbed Frank by the head and threw him down on the ground! I actually ran onto the field and helped him up, because he was not moving at first, and we haven’t had rain in I don’t even know how long, so the ground is rock-hard. Frank cried for a few minutes afterwards, and I actually yelled at M. I don’t like yelling at another kid when the parents are there, but M’s mom never said a word, either to her son or me.

I actually sat Frank down after that one, and told him something I never wanted to tell my child, mostly because I know this usually backfires dramatically: I do not want him to play with M. Play together during rugby games, yes, to help the team, but I do not want him fooling around with him before or after. He promised me he wouldn’t fool around with him anymore, but then they fooled around again at last night’s practice, getting yelled at again by the coach for not following directions.

Then, Frank started YMCA daycamp this week. GUESS WHO’S IN HIS GROUP? I swear we are never going to be rid of this kid.

 

Honestly, after observing him at rugby these last few weeks, I think he could very well have a raging case of ADHD and need medication.  He has incredibly poor impulse control, for example.  But his lack of impulse control is impacting my kid, and it pisses me off, and I just do not know what to do!

Day Camp

Frank started day camp at our local YMCA today. So, if he was the one starting something completely new, why was I the one who slept so poorly last night?

Turns out, I didn't need to worry. There are at least three kids in his group whom he knew from school or rugby. As for the other kids? "I don't remember their names.  We just played."

I should have known he'd be fine this morning when I dropped him off. He leaped out of the car and barely waved at me as he ran towards his group.

Of course, swimming starts tomorrow.  He's never swam before.  Sure, he's frolicked around at the edge of the water at the beach and stuff, and he does love his bath, but he's never been in water more than a foot deep. As I said to his counselor this morning, "He will either turn into a fish and you won't be able to yank him out of there, or he will completely freak out as soon as he touches the water. I honestly have no idea which it will be."

A door closes...

Yesterday, we picked up my son from his daycre for the last time.  He'll go to day camp during the month of July, and in September, he will attend our local elementary school, as a first-grader.

This daycare, which is also where he attended Kindergarten, has been a part of our lives since he was five months old, and now he is five and a half years old.  I'm not sure it's really sunk in for any of us that we are well and truly done with daycare yet.  I'm sure it hasn't for Frank, and am not sure it'll sink in until he starts school in the fall.

So odd...he doesn't need daycare anymore.  My baby is growing up!

Saying good bye to Kindergarten

My son will graduate Kindergarten in two weeks and two days.  He attends Kindergarten at the school he has always gone to, a daycare he's attended since he was five months old.  Along the way, the staff there has seen us through many things: my serious illness (when he was six months old) that required me to be hospitalized for five days and home on disability for seven weeks after that.)  Many childhood illnesses.  (You don't really want to know what Toddler Diarrhea is, do you?)  And, at 17 months, a diagnosis from an occupational therapist of Sensory Processing Disorder, with severe oral defensiveness as a key issue.

The diagnosis for us was both an end and a beginning.  It was an end because at last, after many months, we had an answer as to why my son flat out refused to eat "normally".  Why wouldn't he eat Cheerios?  Pretzels?  Chicken nuggets?  Why didn't he ever gum anything as a teething baby except for his own hands, or a pacifier?   Why couldn't he get a latch good enough to breastfeed? 

It was a beginning for me, because I had to educate myself.  I had vaguely heard of kids with autism having sensory issues, so when the OT gave me the diagnosis, my first response was, "Wait...he has autism?"  No, he doesn't, she explained to me.  Most kids with autism do have sensory issues, but not all kids with sensory issues have autism.  Okay...I guess I have some reading to do, I thought.

And so, I read.  I bought every book I could find on the subject, which, at first, was not much.  Books have never let me down, so they had to give me the answers I needed.  How did this happen?  Is it hereditary?  Did I eat something, or get exposed to something, during the pregnancy that did it?  Was it the 21-hour long labor that ended in emergency c-section? 

Personally, I think it was the last; the c-section was because his heart rate was dipping with each contraction, and that went on for a while before they did the surgery.  I will never know, of course, and sometimes I lie awake at night, still, thinking about it.  If I had hired a doula, like I had thought about doing, maybe labor would have gone differently for me, and I would have delivered faster, vaginally.  Maybe, if I hadn't asked for the epidural when I did, and just kept walking around, things would have gone faster.  Maybe maybe maybe...all these decisions I made that may have affected how my son will live his entire life. 

I will never know what caused my son to have SPD.  For all I know, it's in how my genes and my husband's genes mingled together, or some completely different cause science hasn't yet discovered.

What I do know, however, is my son would not be the well-adjusted child he is without the love and support from his daycare.  I shared the diagnosis with the director immediately.  She had heard of SPD, but didn't know much about it, and she began to read up on it, too.  The staff never treated my son as "different".  This was just Frank, and this is how he eats.  Oh, you need us to put a food item on his plate at lunchtime?  No problem.  You need us to make him touch the food item, take one bite of it at lunchtime?  No problem.  He's not toileting at age four?  No problem. 

I wish everyone who had children with special needs could have such a positive experience in their child's schooling.  And I hope and pray, as we get ready to say good bye to his first school, that his experiences in the rest of his school years will be as positive.

Random musings

Note: I originally wrote this in September, but never published it.

Frank ate a cupcake!  Actually, two cupcakes- one at OT the day before his birthday, and one at school on his actual birthday.  He ate the cake, and not the icing, but: My.  Kid.  Ate.  A.  CUPCAKE.  (His teachers were just as excited as I was, too.  It was very cute)

My husband thinks I worry too much about this sort of thing.  In one respect, he's right: every six months, when I bring him to the dentist, I get compliments on the state of his teeth, to which my response is always the same: "His teeth should be pristine.  He doesn't eat anything with sugar in it!" 

However, as someone who was picked on for 13 straight years of school, I worry about social implications of his food issues.  I don't think it's any secret to anyone who has regular interaction with children, or was once a child, that kids can be cruel.  I don't want Frank to be That Weird Kid Who Won't Eat a Cupcake.  Or whatever.  Granted, at least at this point, he's very self-confident, and if someone says something mean to him, he gives as good as he gets, but who knows what will happen next year when he's in public school?  He'll be entering in first grade, whereas most of his classmates will enter as kindergarteners, and will have had a year to cement friendships. 

I worry because I read a lot, and I know that kids with SPD tend to have more social problems than kids who are neurotypical.  I also know that I was picked on a lot (I was an easy target- I was painfully shy and wore glasses and had health issues.), and I work in schools, so I see firsthand every day how cruel kids can be. 

But, at the moment: he ate cupcakes, and he's loving kindergarten, and doing very well.  And according to his pediatrician, he's in the 89% for height for his age, so, from a purely physical standpoint, we definitely made the right decision to start him in kindergarten now instead of waiting until next year.

Progress

I can't believe this school year is almost over!  Frank has done extremely well in Kindergarten.  He's reading tons, and his writing has improved dramatically.  At the parent-teacher conference in January, his teacher assured me that any silliness she sees, and his abilities, including handwriting, are all perfectly age-appropriate, and she is well pleased with his progress.  He'll enter public school first grade in the fall without an IEP or a 504.  I registered him for first grade last month, and they told me we would know who his teacher would be by mid-July.  Once we get that notification, I'll email her, intriduce myself, and explain about Frank's SPD.  I have plenty of books she could borrow to read up on it, if she's not familiar with it.  If he shows signs of needing additional interventions, then of course I'll ask for him to be evaluated, but right now, I'm okay with him going in unclassified.

Food-wise, he's made some great strides recently.  He now eats the school lunches more often than not, even things he's never eaten for us at home!  Peer pressure, despite what some think, is not always a bad thing; he's watched his classmates wolf down cheese quesadillas and turkey "dinners" and been intrigued.  Each time he gets a new meal, I send in a backup lunch for him, but he's never eaten any of these backup lunches. Today, at OT, he wanted to try a cheese sandwich: "Not grilled cheese, Mommy.  Just cheese." He was lukewarm on the cheese and bread together, but did eat them seperately.

Our big bugaboo has always been and still is fruits and vegetables.  He's tried several in OT recently, with varying degrees of success.  D and I agreed long ago that once he was consistently eating one or two of each, he'd be done with OT, but I haven't shared that with Frank.  He loves OT, and I could easily see him deciding to never eat another fruit or vegetable if it meant he got to keep playing with D every week!

That brings me to another change: he decided about a month ago that, "I'm a big boy now, Mommy, so you don't need to come into OT with me anymore."  I had always gone into and participated in the sessions with him and D, since he was 17 months old.  He's five and a half now, and I actually asked her last summer about this very issue; I had noticed many kids in the center about his age in there with the PTs and OTs, and not a parent in sight.  D said it depended upon a child's issue; in Frank's case, food is such a personal issue that required a great deal of daily consistent followup at home, it was important for the parent to be involved at that point.  She said she'd leave it up to me and Frank if we wanted me to keep going in or wait in the waiting room.  I didn't say anything to Frank at the time, but deicded I was going to let him drive it, and had, over the last few months, been leaving during the session here and there, just to see what he'd do.  Well, once Frank got a taste of it, he decided he rather liked the independence of it.  He seemed rather taken aback by how easily I agreed with it, but has never turned back.

Part of me is somewhat relieved, as I admit to feeling frustrated sometimes during the sessions, but part of me feels something of a pang.  This is my baby, and this is a thing he and I have always done together.  My husband has come to a few sessions here and there, but, as I work a school schedule, it's far easier for me to do OT, so I've always done the bulk of it.  But, now, my baby doesn't want me in there with him anymore.  It's the first real thing with Frank that I can remember feeling this "he's no longer a baby" feeling, and it's very disconcerting.

Trampoline!

Frank got a trampoline for...hm, Christmas, I think, last year.  It's one of those small, individual sized ones, with a grip bar.  We basically told him that we were not putting it together for him until he was using the potty: "Trampolines are for big boys who don't use diapers!"  Fast forward to now. 

The trampoline has been in the box, in his closet, this whole time, and the other day, for the first time since he conquered the toilet, he noticed.  "Mommy, I want to use my trampoline!"  Uh oh.  I will be the first to admit my husband is way better at Putting Things Together than I am, and I did not know if we'd have time this weekend to do it.

However, it turned out, we did have time, this morning.  Darrel and I put it together, and the kid LOVES it.  Most kids, after they jump like crazy on a trampoline for a bit, are all revved up, but, like many SPD kids, not Frank.  He'll jump for a bit, and then flop down on the couch and zone out.  (The zoning out may have more to do with his cold he currently has, though.  We'll see as time goes on!)

In other news, he is taking vitamins now.  He swallows these gummy vitamins whole, instead of chewing them, but they get in his body, so I really don't care. :)