kindergarten interview

the list you've all been waiting for

Ben has been asking me for various toys for about six months and I keep telling him maybe for his birthday. Then, after his birthday, I will go with Santa Claus. And then back to his birthday. It's an incredibly useful cycle that saves me money, though I suspect he'll be less satisfied with this as he gets older. When I finally got around to sitting down with him and making a wish list, he got a really confused look on his face and struggled to come up with stuff. Here is his list, in his words:

1. Land Before Time dinosaur toys
2. Green shirt guy and his car
3. Candyland princesses
4. Scooby games that aren't too hard
5. Scooby shoes
6. Scooby toothbrush
7. Robin and Batman
8. Spiderman
9. Ben 10's friend who touches gray things and turns to gray and touches yellow and opens them.

Not only is the above list often confusing and/or random, Ben needs none of it. But there it is.

Tomorrow he starts kindergarten. We went to orientation tonight and his teacher seems very friendly and intelligent--I packed his lunch and put a little note with a heart and MOM and DAD printed in it. Here's to his new adventure away from me--for the next 13 years...

on the subject of b-12 and other aspects of our lives

Okay, so I know I haven't posted in a while, but I have Facebook to keep up with! In any case, I promised myself I would keep track of everything we are doing with Elliott. So here goes. We got his labs done last Friday and will get those back soon. We have also started him on methyl B-12 shots. These are tiny insulin needles, but it is still incredibly nervewracking to inject him in his butt with this every day. However, he started saying words this week, regularly! He even recognized letters and numbers by sight, both at home and at school. Many people claim that there is a placebo effect with B-12, that I wish that he will change and so he changes, but I have seen real progress this week, and I can't wait to see what happens in the next month. Maybe it's not the B-12, maybe it is the endless speech and occupational therapies. Whatever it is, we will continue doing all of it because he's getting better and better every week. Benjamin told me that they gave Elliott a pretzel at Kids' Club at the Y on Wednesday, and then he said, "Mom, you need to put a sign on Elliott that says 'no wheat and no dairy.'" He is already looking out for his little brother, which just makes me hug him hard.

Last weekend, we spent time with the kids Aunt Jillian and Uncle Morgan, and we had an amazing time. Elliott slept incredibly well and seemed happy most of the weekend. We discovered that he cannot take the sand on the beach. He swatted at it and screamed until Ryan and Morgan drove him back to the apartment, but Benjamin had a wonderful time in the water--he even saw dolphins and caught sand crabs. We are going to try and spend the weekend with Jill and Morg more often because we had such a relaxing and wonderful time with two of our best friends and the kids loved (almost) every second of it, too.

Elliott loves his preschool now and happily traipses into his classroom without even a whimper three days a week. Benjamin has been home with us but he starts kindergarten on Thursday. We peered into his classroom last night when we were walking the dog, and he told me he is excited. I ordered a Scooby Doo backpack on Ebay and that sucker better come soon because the guys promised fast shipping. He will suffer my wrath on the feedback forum if he is lying about that.

Sorry for the randomness. This is my life.

elliott update

Before we get to the Elliott update, a quick p.s. on that bully at the pool. His name is Todd and his favorite place to go is McDonald's. He grabs at the girls under the water. If that kid doesn't grow up to date-rape someone, I'll be shocked.

In the past few months, Elliott was rejecting anything that was soft or mushy in texture, forcing me to buy freeze-dried versions of fruits and vegetables and to saute meats until crispy so he would get some protein. However, in the last week, he will eat anything I put in front of him. Today, he had a broccoli and ham omelet. He eats adult-sized quantities of everything I put in front of him, all of which is new: potatoes, bananas, sweet potatoes, green beans, squash, chicken, beef, black beans, cauliflower, eggs, pears, strawberries, lentil beans...the list goes on and on and on. It's pretty awesome, given that he can't eat dairy and wheat; now I don't have to worry about him getting the nutrients he needs.

We saw a biomedical doctor last week for him as well, and she has ordered a series of labs to see what is going on in his body. This means, that I collect his poop and pee and mail it to people to examine; it's so much fun! Based on all of the research I am doing, autism is really not understood and is actually a combination of symptoms caused by toxic overload in the body. We are going to work to clean Elliott's system out and see if it helps. He's already making tons of progress. Today, he pointed at the colors red and black, saying the words clearly. Yesterday, he said cupcake clearly. Last weekend, he said the words on several flash cards. He still isn't doing it spontaneously, but he's getting there. We have him on a multivitamin, cod liver oil, and enzymes, and each week we add something new. I have learned so much about our immune system from the several books I'm reading. I have to say, the Jenny McCarthy book Healing and Preventing Autism, is really informative and enlightening. It says the sames things as several of the other books but in a much more accessible way. I've been making my way slowly through it because it's still very dense and very science-y, which everyone knows is not my strong suit. I know people hate Jenny McCarthy, but I really think that if you hate Jenny McCarthy, then it's more about you than it is about her. She has worked really hard, with a doctor, to help her son, and she simply wants to share what she has learned so others can benefit. Mainstream doctors write all of the biomedical stuff off, and there are no major clinical studies of anything, largely because there's not much money in it. How sad is that? All I can say is we will do whatever we can to help him and making his immune system strong and clearing the toxins out of his body isn't going to hurt. Sometimes I feel like a crazed hippie when I explain all of this to people, and I guess I kind of am. Maybe I'll stop wearing deodorant, too.

I'm not sure how I'm going to keep up with all of the appointments and work--this really is like having a second job--once the semester starts back up again, but we'll make it happen. We always do. I am really looking forward to the day when I can say that I am bored.

bullies

When Ben was in the pool for his swim lesson on Monday, some kid accused him of spitting water out. He went up to all of the other kids and said, "This kid spits water out! Look at him!" Everyone looked at Ben and Ben, behind dark turtle shaped goggles, sadly put most of his face in the water and stared straight ahead, in an apparent attempt to disappear. This kid was very obnoxious and the other kids ignored him. Ryan went and spoke to Ben to reassure him and the swim lesson went on. The father of this kid looked on, not seeming to care.

I know this is normal, that this will happen in kindergarten, that we won't be there to protect him. But my god, it is more painful than I thought. The best way to handle bullies is to not let them know they are getting to you, but I was the worst at that when I was a kid. I remember when my dad chopped all of my hair off and everyone at school called me a boy and I got so mad I started shaking and sputtering all over the place, unable to spit anything back. And the torture just got worse because of that. I've never had a good poker face, or a poker face at all. Maybe I should listen to more Lady GaGa. In any case, we told Ben that he needs to ignore kids when they are mean like that, to seek out the nice kids to play with. And if it gets really bad, to tell his teacher. The way I really want to handle it? I want Ben to point out the kid so I can pick him off on the playground to see if he has any bully left in him when he comes face to face with me. Ben can be obnoxious, but he is never mean to other kids and he is really sensitive. I feel like I'm throwing him into a den of coyotes sending him to kindergarten. This parenting thing is HARD.

the kids

little pool babies

This is the video we will use to blackmail these three when they are teenagers. "You think you're cool? Well let's see what your friends think about THIS!" Seriously, three kids under 4 and there is no screaming. (There was plenty immediately afterward.) During this visit, Louise and Benjamin became best friends and kissed each other every day. They will never remember not knowing each other, which is so awesome.

crappy day? me too. this will cheer you up, though.

mysterious boy and social pressure

Two separate stories here:

Elliott was never a cuddly one, not until about two months ago. Now, when he wakes up in the morning or after a nap, one of my most favorite things is that he put his full weight into my body and just clings onto me and rests his head against my chest. After over two years of not cuddling with me, he will just lie there for several minutes until he lifts his head and runs away to play or find snacks in the pantry. Lately, he's been a momma's boy, clinging to my skirt as I walk around the house, demanding that I see every toy he finds. He says a version of "Look what I got," and finally shows interest in picture books and he wants me to see everything he has found. Which I have to say, feels amazing, even if it's difficult to go to the bathroom when he is trying to wrestle his way into my lap. I still worry about him, often at night, before I fall asleep, the time when all of my anxiety bursts through my brain. I was telling Ryan that the most difficult thing right now is that he doesn't talk, and sometimes I feel like I don't really know him yet because he can't communicate with us and oftentimes, we can't communicate with him. He's getting there, every day, every week, but it's a painstaking process. I can't wait to hear what he has to say.

On an unrelated note:

Benjamin has been very interested in Hello Kitty. He has a Hello Kitty watch, backpack, and photo album (thanks, Jill!). Yesterday, he was wearing his pink Hello Kitty watch, and as we were getting ready to leave for the park, he said, "Mom, can you take off my watch? Everyone thinks it's for girls." He wasn't sad, he was just matter-of-fact. And I took it off of his wrist for him. I knew this was bound to happen, that it's probably a good thing to happen before he starts kindergarten and kids make fun of him, but there is something just a little heartbreaking about it. He was completely confident in his interests--wide-ranging as they are--but that now he is aware that others will find fault with him for this. Here is a kid who loves pink mermaids, but who wants to be Scooby this Halloween and Batman next Halloween, who takes baby clothes out of my hand, assessing them before I give them to a friend who is about to have a baby, nods his head in approval, and says, "These are so cute, Mom." I love that he is such a unique boy with a giant, beautiful heart, and I just never want him to feel bad about himself.

velma's secret desire

Benjamin is nursing an obsession with Scooby Doo that is threatening my sanity. He carries "the gang" with him everywhere he goes, cautiously buckling them into his booster seat with himself, carefully covering them with his blanket at bed time, propping them up next to him when he eats. He wants to watch Scooby Doo all day long--it is the first thing he asks me about in the morning, he talks about it all day, and he talks about it at bed time. When he isn't watching Scooby, he wants to play Scooby with the action figures. I reluctantly agreed today, and he eagerly gave me Velma and Scooby--he would play Daphne, Freddy (as he calls him), and Shaggy. "Let's solve a mystery," he exclaimed. So we solved a mystery--the "bad guy" was a dog puppet. After the gang attacked the puppet, Ben said, "Let's see who it really is," and whisked the puppet off of my hand and put my hand in jail. Then, he said we needed to give Velma a birthday party. He had Freddy make her a strawberry cake, her favorite, and then she made a wish and blew out the candles. Curious, I asked him what Velma had wished for, and he got a very shy, serious look on his face, held Velma face to face with Freddy, and had Velma say, "Freddy, I want you to love me." After hours of watching Scooby, Ben has picked up on an Velma's unspoken desire and finally given it a voice.

back from ohio...

Had a great time visiting my relatives in Cleveland, but I missed Ryan and the boys so much. My grandma used to kind of have a mean streak but now she is in her nineties and has become very pleasant, very likely because she doesn't remember what she was bitter about. I'm not sure about her long-term memory, but I know for sure that she has no short-term memory. She asked me whether or not I had kids about five times in five minutes. I painted her fingernails the brightest shade of red and all the other ladies in the home were jealous. My grandma can barely talk anymore, but she actually seems happier than I've ever seen her in her life. My relatives out there were very kind and I enjoyed getting to know them as an adult. I returned late on Sunday night to find Ben watching Scooby upstairs. "I have the whole gang," he said, showing me the toys Ryan bought him. He refers to them as "the gang" because they do so on the show, and he sounds as though he is from the 70s. Ryan let him stay up to see me, and though he's not the sort of kid that runs into your arms, I knew he was happy to see me. After about five minutes, he looked at me and finally realized he missed me and hugged me. In the morning, he was so happy I was there. Elliott didn't seem to react any differently this morning, but the poor little guy had a very bad ear infection today and I had to take him into urgent care tonight. Elliott always seems to have a tough time. It really isn't fair. On the way home from urgent care, we went through all of the animal sounds, which he repeated in his way. "We're home," I said, as we pulled into the drive. "Ooooome," he repeated. He is trying. I'm convinced he will get there. Ryan and the boys had a lot of fun this weekend--he took them to Oak Glen and Forest Falls. Ryan had his first day of summer school today and he is tired, but I'm glad I get to be home with him again, even if we still haven't been able to even relax together.

some days are harder than others

We got the diagnosis from the Kaiser diagnostic team on Thursday that Elliott has autism spectrum disorder. This confirms what the neurologist from Kaiser and developmental specialist from the Inland Regional Center have told us. I like to think I'm very in control and so I took the Kaiser diagnosis in stride; I didn't feel bad about it at all. I felt like, okay, we will continue to work on this and everything will be okay. (The back of my mind screamed, what if it isn't okay? but I tried to ignore this.) The teachers from IRC began to work with him this week (3 hours per day, every weekday), something I've been fighting for for the past five months. But suddenly this afternoon, I started to feel really sad. Elliott has had a difficult week--he isn't sleeping well and Disneyland threw him off of his routine. He screams. And screams. And it's not as bad as it was before the diet change, but it's still a hell of a lot of screaming and sometimes it just gets under my skin. Everyone always says that this age is so much fun, but for Ryan and me, this age fills us with anxiety and fear and stress and heartbreak and frustration. This is punctuated with fun, but it is difficult to have fun when you don't know if everything will be okay. I don't know why both of our kids have had such a hard time. And I know it could be worse. I know they could have cancer or missing limbs or terminal illnesses. But it's still really hard right now. I feel bad asking anyone, even family, to babysit him. I'm scared that no one really likes being around him--or us--and sometimes I just feel extremely isolated. I know I will pick myself up tomorrow. It's just been a long day.

disneyland

We survived our 2nd family vacation! Elliott was so much better than he was last year--he didn't run in front of a stroller once, and the first night he slept until 7 in the morning. This morning, he woke up at 4am. 4 A.M. It was horrible. He kept sitting on my head and fake sneezing. Everyone thinks that is really cute, but it isn't when he's done it 30 times before the sun has risen and each time I have to wipe his nose. At around 5, I put him back to sleep and he woke up again at 6, so at least we got an extra hour. The boys did really well. Ben was very excited to see Mickey again, and he got to swim in the pool at the hotel for 2 hours yesterday. Aunt Jilly hung out with us the second day and we had a lot of fun (minus a corn dog incident!). When I was a kid, our family vacations tended to be stressful, and I think we pulled this off without any of that. It's cool right now because the kids don't have any expectations--we go on a few rides, we relax, we play at the Toon Town playground, we go back to the hotel. In fact, we had to talk Ben into going back to Disneyland yesterday evening. He wanted to stay on his "magic bed" (the sofa bed in our hotel room). All in all, vacation accomplished.

ben graduates!!

say my name

Last night, Elliott said all of our names. Well, all except one. Mine. He said Daddy and Ben and Mookie. (Mona was off sulking in the other room.) He even said Elliott, which seems to me to contain more complications and syllables than Mommy. But the good news is, he is talking more and making so much progress. He still throws tantrums and avoids eye contact a lot, but WAY less than before, so that is amazing news. Today, I spent $45 just on special snacks for him because he's suddenly become weird about textures. A small container of freeze dried vegetables alone costs FIVE DOLLARS. His special bread costs about double as well and I had to buy him protein powder to supplement because he won't eat meat now and he can't have any dairy. I'm also going to try to make him baked tofu, and I bought him these special flax snacks which are expensive and smell like mold, but he actually really likes them. Because that's just how he rolls.

anxiety

Last night, right before I left Benajamin's room and he was about to go to sleep, he said, in a panicked voice, "Mom, I don't want to grow old. I don't want to be 5." I asked him why and in his pre-teenager mode he shrugged his shoulders and said, "I don't know." It eventually came out. He said he wouldn't get to see his friends anymore and there wouldn't be any paint or books in kindergarten. He was almost on the verge of tears. I assured him that there would indeed be books and paints in kindergarten, maybe even better ones than there were in preschool, and that we'd invite his current friends over when we could but that he'd make new friends too. "I won't like them," he told me. I gently reassured him that he might like them. Ben has never been good with change, so we've been preparing him for kindergarten since last summer, taking him by the school, letting him play on the playground, discussing it with him. He is ready academically but I am nervous about how anxious he will be once school starts in August, and also how anxious we will both be. Because even though he's been in pre-school, kindergarten is a whole new frontier. A whole new level of letting him go into the world and begin to have his own separate life outside of the safety of our family. His preschool is on Ryan's campus and Ryan can check on him at any time. That physical proximity is important, even if it is illogical. It will be hard for me to know that he is in a classroom miles away from Ryan and me, navigating the new friends, the new teacher, this whole new segment of his life. I know he will be teased at some point, that this is normal. But it doesn't feel any better to know this. It doesn't stop me from wanting to hug him every minute he is at school, fending off the mean kids. I didn't realize it before, but I am anxious too. I know he is ready, but it doesn't matter. I won't let him feel any of this anxiety of course, and we have a few more months to prepare. Everyone always says, "they grow up so fast." And it is true. They do.

a big fat thank you

Last week on this exact night, I was crying my eyes out. Elliott wasn't going to get his surgery and nothing was working out. Now, he is all lined up for the services he needs this month, the surgery went splendidly (or as close to that as possible), and even my work is under control, despite the fact that it is the end of the semester. And on Mother's Day, I got to sleep in and buy myself a bicycle and drink pina coladas while Ryan did the heavy lifting with the kids. As a result, so far this week is a wholly different experience thanks largely to one person--Ryan. Even tonight, Elliott was grabbing at his ears and screaming, so Ryan drove him all the way to Fontana for urgent care so we could see if he has an infection. When I can't keep my shit together, Ryan is there to rescue me, and I am so grateful to him for that.

click click take a picture

Each night after bath, two books, and a discussion of what we did today and what our favorite parts were, Benjamin says, "Click, click, I took a picture." And we say, "What is it?" and he goes into a long-winded story usually involving Diego or Mickey going to an ice cream store and getting poop ice cream cone and then eating the poop ice cream cone and pooping on someone's head. There are endless varieties of this same plot and when Ben is done telling us this story, he makes us tell him another variation of it. If we try to leave poop out of the picture, Ben says, "No" and then adds poop into the story again. I'm guessing this is what it will be like to have two boys and Ryan in the house, so I'd better get used to it. Ben thinks these stories are so funny and he laughs hysterically at each one even though they are nearly indistinguishable from the stories that came before them. Although I don't find poop nearly as hilarious as he does, his happiness always makes me smile. He also has this continuous fixation with Uncle Keith. Tonight, he said Uncle Keith is a tree with branch arms and a leafy head and a trunk for a body. It's been a really long time since he saw Uncle Keith, but apparently, he made a big impression. Ben has this amazing and detailed little world in his head, and I love bedtime because he lets me in. Even when so much poop talk is involved.

the (minor) surgery

Last night, I had just about had it. Last time Elliott's ear tube surgery and hearing exam was scheduled, he got so worked up that they thought he had a cold and they canceled the surgery, after weeks of waiting. I spent several more weeks waiting and placing weekly calls to annoy the nurses into fitting him in. During my weekly call last week, I got lucky and they told me there had just been a cancellation. Could I take off work and bring him in on Tuesday? Yes, I could. At the pre-op on Monday, they poked and prodded Elliott and made me walk him all over the hospital. He was understandably annoyed with the TWO HOUR wait, and this old man named Uncle Floyd started complaining about him, and about my mothering skills. I was this close to giving Uncle Floyd something to complain about, but his niece was kind and deflated the situation. I am so sick of people making me feel like there is something wrong with my kids. It makes me angrier than anything makes me. Angry enough to punch an old man with a walker in his veiny, red nose. Instead, I cried a little and went to work and taught badly because my mind was elsewhere.

And then last night, Elliott got a small fever. And a little cough. And then Ryan told me this kid at day care had a 104 degree fever and his mom didn't take him home. I was crushed. The stakes are so much higher with Elliott because he is meeting with all of his specialists this month and if we didn't get his hearing squared away, the appointments would be useless. I've been under so much stress writing letters and calling people and carting the kids around to all of their specialists' appointments. I felt like I had worked so hard and it had all come down to this: failure.

So I went to bed defeated but I set my alarm for 5:15 and I prayed Elliott would wake up with out the fever. And he did! No food or drink was allowed for the little man until 9am, so he was extremely agitated. Yet, I couldn't let him cry because they might cancel the surgery again. I felt as though I had this (cute) time bomb on my hands for hours, and each time the nurse took his blood pressure or affixed a bracelet to his wrist or looked at him too long, I winced in anticipation of his screams and head banging. There was a little of that, but I had a bunch of toys and I let him do stuff I normally wouldn't just so he would keep it together. Want to play with the doctor's computer? Sure. Want to grab the blinds on the window? You got it. Play with the I.V. holder thing? Absolutely. Finally, just when I thought he couldn't take it anymore, they took him from me and carried him down the hall. He didn't cry when they did that, which shocked me, and as the door closed on him, he did a little fake sneeze, and I felt sad and nervous for the next 45 minutes.

The surgery went fine, and his hearing is perfect. Which is a relief and leads us to the next step in finding out what is wrong with him. When I went the get him, two nurses were struggling with his red and screaming body. He had been trying to rip the I.V. out of his arm and they were attempting to tape it down. They told me his screaming was a reaction to the medication, but as it kept worsening, it became clear (as I knew all along) that this had more to do with his personality. "We have a reputation," I told the nurses. They wanted to wait until he calmed down and drank some juice before they discharged us. I told them this would never happen. Eventually, they believed me and let us go. As soon as we were in the hallway, he stopped crying, and he drank his whole juice on the way home.

So I don't feel like a failure anymore, even though I'm still anxious to find out more about what is going on with Elliott. The Inland Regional Center is finally working with me rather than against me to get more services for Elliott, and I'm hoping my letter writing, phone calling campaign will subside pretty soon. My hope is that this will all be a funny story some day...