Family Christmas

For our family in the South and West who missed Christmas with the boys, here's a run-down on the week's activities. (This is a little long.)

The boys received an early Christmas present from Mother Nature, who dropped 18" of snow on the ground last Saturday. To say they were thrilled would be a major understatement. All the snow gear went on and they were outside by 9:30 am, loving life. TR made it through an hour that first time, pretty good for a 3 yo out in near blizzard conditions, and his brothers were out for closer to 2 hours. They came back in for coco and lunch and some down time and headed back in the afternoon for another round. Over the next two days, we had snowball fights and made a snowman and otherwise frolicked. Interestingly, we realized that shoveling snow is a great form of natural OT for CJ, works his muscles and gives him lots of sensory input. When Craig went out to shovel, CJ was right there with him the whole time outlasting even his older brother. He was incredibly calm for the next two days, an early gift from Mother Nature to his parents.

By Tuesday the pre-Christmas frenzy had kicked in and the boys were on a rampage. I worked to keep them busy and they were great helpers. AJ wrapped presents with me and was pretty good at it. CJ painted watercolor Christmas trees to add to the packages. This was actually my favorite present this year. For the first time in his life, CJ independently sat at a table and wrote and painted for a significant length of time. He first wrote all of his letters and then made a whole series of pictures for family. We knew he had the skills but his sensory issues were getting in the way of his coloring in even the simplest way. It was the first visible sign that all the work this year is paying off and made me very proud of him (and grateful to his team at Stokes for all they've done to help him).

I have to admit that I, at times, doubted whether we would make it to Christmas morning with the adults' sanity in tact. Christmas Eve included a run to Target for me with all three boys in tow, a major undertaking but still one they came through all right. I did at one point threaten to make the next one to misbehave sit and watch his brothers open two presents before he could open any, needless to say that helped immensely. It also helped that Muzzy had sent a new table for use with Legos and her blessing to open it early, it was a welcome distraction those last few hours. Craig got home around 2 pm and we were off to the races, with last minute cleaning to prepare for the family visitors and then baths and dressing for church.

I think both Craig and I were dreading church, given the antsy behavior of the guys, but they were amazingly well-behaved. I was incredibly proud of them. It was a particularly moving experience watching AJ at the service this year. For the first time, he could read along with the adults and it was amazing to watch the service take on a completely new meaning for him. He read every word and sang every hymn and was totally engaged. I could see church and the service becoming more real to him and relished his new understanding of the words he had been hearing out of the corner of his ear for the last 7 years. TR spent most of the service in his father's arms, people watching and enjoying all the music. CJ was on point during the children's sermon. He raised his hand whenever the chaplain asked a question and when called on answered and managed to add an interesting tidbit here and there. The chaplain was impressed and told him to keep studying and prepare for his ordination one day. My dad was thrilled, perhaps hoping that after skipping a generation the minister gene is making an appearance in one of his grandsons. When it all became too much for him, CJ curled up in my lap and took a break from everything going on around him.

We opened presents with my dad and step-mother back at the house after the service and it was a great kick-off to the event. AJ got an alarm clock, which he promptly set for 7 am (the time at which they were allowed to come and get mom and dad) and the two younger ones got great toys that they took to bed with them. After they left and boys finally went to sleep, our work began. It was 2:30 am before we were finished with all the prep for presents and Christmas dinner but worth the effort.

Needless to say, the alarm was unnecessary. The boys were up at 6:15 am and ready to go but did a great job of staying in their room until the alarm went off at 7. We headed downstairs with their eyes closed so they could eat their pre-present snack and then it was finally present time. The Santa presents got oohs and aahs, as did the gigantic beanbag chairs from Aunt Amy that could not be wrapped. After present opening and an enormous breakfast the boys got a little time to play before the next round arrived with Meme, grandad, Uncle Bill and Debbie and Aunt Erica and Uncle Francis. In a short time our house looked like a small toy store and the boys were in heaven. TR in particular was amazed, he wandered from toy to toy in a daze wanting to play with everything all at once. He finally collapsed into bed for a long nap, too overwhelmed to do anymore. After everyone was gone, we had a rousing game of Twister and did some target practice with the Nerf Dart Tag guns from Janine and John and finally managed to get them to sleep at 8:30. Craig and I followed about 5 minutes later.

As usual, watching their eyes light up and seeing the sheer joy on their faces made all of the running around and chaos more than worthwhile. I know that someday we'll have a nice sedate Christmas again and it will be nice, but I'm not actually looking forward to it. Christmas is a celebration of the birth of a child and of the new world that he brought with him. In their innocent joy, our young children are often closer to understanding that new world than we older, more jaded souls. They still think more of what can be than of what isn't. I, for one, am not looking forward to losing that window into the possible when it closes.

Boy moments...

Three is an interesting age, one moment you feel like you're about to lose it with them and then they do something that makes you scoop them up for a great big snuggle. TJ has been on a roll lately and just had to share my favorites.

"Mommy, did you know that Logan doesn't have any brothers? Not even one!" This was the realization he had two weeks ago in school. I think it was the first time he really understood that not everyone lives in boy central. It was incredibly adorable how sad he was for Logan (I'm sure Logan's parents don't share the sentiment). It also touched me because it showed how much he loves his brothers and how lucky he feels to have them around.

"Baby wants to go on the slide." We had an impromptu playdate with a baby doll last week. He went out to swing and named all the swings (the baby swing, the big boy swing and "Drew's" swing). First, he told me that he was too big for the baby swing and went to get on the big boy swing. Then, he looked over and said "baby wants to swing." We got baby doll and started an odyssey around our backyard. Baby went on the swing, the slide, the climbing dome, and also played golf and went for a ride in the police car. Our playdate ended when he fell down and needed to be carried back inside, a reminder that however big he gets, he's still my baby.

"Sit next to me, mommy." The great thing about 3 is that they are still young enough to openly acknowledge they need you. He's definitely a clingier child than his brothers. My mother guilt fears it's because I was working his first years so he didn't get the time with me that they did. Regardless of why, it is nice to have a constant stream of reminders that I'm loved. Every morning his whole face lights up when he sees me for the first time and I get a big "mommy!" Whether he's coloring, playing with his toys, or watching TV, he wants me right there with him. I can't always do it, but it's nice to be asked.

My 3 yo is not alone in his cuteness. CJ also has had some great lines. My personal favorite? "Mommy, you are better than a peanut butter and jelly sandwich." And even though AJ is too old to be verbal in the same way, I love that when he sees me in the hall at school he'll still hop out of line and come throw his arms around me.

I love my boys.

How Are You?

We ask it countless times each week of friends and family. It sounds innocuous but it can feel like one of the most loaded questions there is. I asked it of a friend this week and she paused before answering and then told me about some hard things that had happened to her recently. At the end, she said she thought about just saying "fine" but decided to tell me the truth and she hoped that was okay.

Of course it was okay, but I got her hesitation. I feel it all the time, not so much with people I don't know well, those are easy, but I'm never sure how to answer those with whom I am closer. How am I? Honestly? That's hard to say. I do have days that are okay, days when I can do what I need to do and my chest pains and random drug side effects are manageable. Not gone, really, but just sort of hanging out at the edges of my life.

And then there are days like yesterday, when by 5:30 I was done. I simply couldn't do anything else. It didn't help that I've had a cold, not one that would normally bother me but just enough to send me over the edge. Craig thankfully came home early because when he walked in the door at 6 I was curled up on the couch. I didn't move until 11:30 when I finally had the energy to go to bed. It was one of those days when AJ knew not to ask about reading from Bed Knob and Broomstick but just snuggled next to me for a few minutes before heading to bed. A day when Craig carried TJ crying up the stairs because he wanted mommy to put him to bed. And a day when CJ stood in front of me and said he knew I was tired and didn't feel well but he just wanted to say goodnight and he hoped that was okay.

It's not okay that my child feels like he can't just come say goodnight to me. It's not okay that reading a chapter in a book or tucking my 3 yo in bed is beyond me. It is, however, the reality, for now.

But people don't really want to hear all that, I know. I'm tired of my health, so I'm pretty sure my friends and family are tired of hearing about my health. I know my husband is tired of hearing about it.

So how am I? Let's just stick with "I'm fine."

When shopping isn't about shopping...

"Becca really wants to go this year," said Janine. "Nope, she's not old enough yet," was the firm response from Erica and me. A morning of shopping sounds great to a 12 year old, but the annual Cawthorne girl shopping trip on Black Friday is a tradition to which we all look forward for reasons that have little to do with shopping, something it is hard to appreciate until you are older.

As with most traditions, it had a practical beginning. Janine's kids were getting older and it was easier to buy for them with mom there to point things out that they would actually wear/use. That first year the Friday after Thanksgiving was the easiest time to do it and to avoid crowds we went early (6 am) to Columbia Mall. We accomplished our goal, yes, but that's not all that has had us coming back to it year after year. As our lives have grown more complicated with kids, jobs and significant others, it has remained a time when we know we can be on our own and enjoy each other's company.

We do, of course, shop, although we have pretty strict rules. We don't wait in ridiculous lines (so no electronics or toy stores) and we don't let ourselves get too crazed about what we find or don't find. We walk around seeing what's out there, take coffee breaks, get lunch and talk. We talk a lot. Not about anything earth-shattering, just the kind of conversation that it is hard to have when you're being pulled in a million different directions but which is so important to help you feel connected to others in your life. Even when we aren't all in the same place, we carry on via cell phone what we would do in person.

Most people think we're insane for trekking out when we do, and that's part of the appeal. It means that in a week when every event has to be negotiated so that everyone possible is included, this is one outing that everyone is happy to leave just to us. Husbands, little kids, our parents, all have no desire to get up at 5 am and go to a mall. It gives us a few hours to accomplish a worthwhile goal and to be, not mom, wife, or daughter, but just Janine, Erica, Laura and, for the last five years, Samantha.

Samantha was 16 when she came with us for the first time, after asking for years. I'm not sure she saw the point that first year, we didn't buy her nearly enough stuff for it to live up to her expectations. Still, she's kept coming and it's been fun to watch her grow into the tradition. This year, at age 21, she summed it up perfectly. "It's not really about the shopping," she noted, "it's about the community."

So Becca will join us in a few years, when she's ready. And I'd like to think that when she and Sam have kids and busy lives of their own, they'll still meet us ridiculously early on Black Friday to remember that in addition to all our other labels, we share the one of friend.

Seeing things from both sides...

Sitting on the SPED side of the table, your job has numerous parts. Most important, of course, is helping the student to succeed in the classroom. In addition, however, you need to make sure the parents understand what is happening with their child and how they can help them at home and school.

Ironically, I was actually pretty good at that second goal. I sat in meetings and clearly explained the various diagnoses, translating what the doctors and therapists said into concepts the parents could easily understand. I was also full of useful advice about things that they could do at home. I told them how to set-up morning routines and other changes they could make that might help their child. It was all so clear and simple as I laid it out.

Part of me wants to go back to every parent with whom I ever spoke and apologize. In the last 2 months we have received an incredible 3 page "sensory diet" for CJ detailing how to regulate every aspect of his life. We also have received suggestions for additional support, the latest being a trip to a nutritionist who specializes in working with kids like CJ. She'll help us figure out if there are any dietary factors contributing to his behavior and work out a diet for him to follow. Have I mentioned the neurological-psychological evaluation we're supposed to be getting? This is in addition to the weekly visits to a psychologist for play therapy and the extra OT we're starting outside of the school next week.

Don't get me wrong, I truly appreciate all the input and know that it will help. Craig and I are both committed to doing whatever we can to help CJ integrate fully into a classroom setting, as are most parents. I just wish I had understood more clearly how overwhelming everything can be on the parent-side of the table. I thought I did, but I was wrong. And the impact is not just on the parents, which is often completely overlooked. CJ's brothers will be spending their Monday afternoons in the car driving him to different therapists and then waiting until he's done, because paying for all the therapy leaves no money for childcare. Balancing what's best for CJ with what's best for the family is a hard line to walk, and we actually have it fairly easy compared to parents dealing with issues like autism.

So what could I have done differently? I'm not sure except listen and try to help more with figuring out the logistics of it all, but maybe that would be enough. The challenge, of course, is that that would take time. Meetings with parents tend to be well-orchestrated affairs. There is often a lot of information that needs to be presented and decisions made with not much time in which to do it. Meetings come at the expense of time with students and we try minimize that impact whenever possible. Again, our primary goal is helping the student and that needs to remain our priority.

And at the end of the day, I do think the best thing we can do for the parent is help the child. That is not a little thing, as I can attest. For me, knowing that CJ is going into a classroom every day where he is happy and completely supported is an amazing gift. Still, when I end future meetings by asking "do you have any questions or need any help with anything?," it will not be a formality but an honest inquiry based on a willingness to listen.

Making progress...

It has been a productive weekend for us, the kind of weekend it's been difficult to have for several years and which we'd missed. Craig and I worked on the basement rehab yesterday, reorganizing the laundry room and his work space and putting down a floor. Today, Craig kept going on the boys' section of the basement and I went on a cleaning binge upstairs.

The most exciting part of this? We did it with all of our boys at home the whole time (along with several friends), and not even a naptime. They wandered in and out of the house, playing basketball and football in the yard, making endless paper airplanes and playing the Wii during yesterday's rain. Today, they helped me clean their rooms before heading outside once again. I checked in with them periodically, settled minor conflicts and gave them a ton of food and they were good to go. We ended each day with some family time (made more exciting on Saturday by the loss of power we experienced), but got the time to focus on a task.

It wasn't ideal, I admit. I was pulled back and forth between kids and work and was pretty wiped out at the end of it all. It was, however, a big step forward for us. With two of the kids 5 or older, we have officially entered a new, less intense, phase of parenting. While I still miss parts of having a house full of babies and toddlers, I have to confess that I am welcoming this new era with open arms.

For better or worse?

We are the generation of divorce. More of my friends have parents who aren't married than parents who are. We are basically well-adjusted and happy people, most married and raising children. I have, however, recently found myself drawn into several conversations about divorce, not about who is getting one but rather the fact that no one in my immediate circle has.

These conversations have an interesting flow to them. For the most part, the participants are slightly tentative, we worry perhaps about jinxing ourselves. We marvel at the fact that everyone is still married and brainstorm reasons, we all got married when we were older is a favorite. A friend dropped a bombshell at a party last month. The parents of her son's two best friends have both separated recently. She said that when she mentioned it to a co-worker with older children, her co-worker nodded and said that it was that time. Apparently, it was when the co-worker's kids were between 7 and 9 that marriages began to fail.

There is a strange logic to this, actually. When your children are young you just put your head down and push through the midnight feedings, terrible two's and potty training. You love them and enjoy them but they tend to sap all your strength and you operate largely day-to-day. Once they get older and you can spare some time to look around again, there probably are couples who realize they have lost what they once had.

So maybe we all haven't found the secret to eternal marriage, maybe we just haven't hit the rough times yet. The truth is we won't know until we get there how many of us will be fine. No relationship comes with a guarantee, marriage least of all. Craig is remarkably sanguine about our marriage, perhaps because his own parents stayed together. His response when I mentioned we should spend more quality time together to keep our marriage strong? "That's fine, but I'm not sure why you're worried. Why would I ever decide to stop loving you?"

Maybe that will be our secret weapon, not merely a commitment to staying married (we all know far to many parents who did that for the wrong reason) but a commitment to loving each other or at the least remembering why we love each other. The difference? Loving and remembering are action words and no marriage can last unless both partners are active participants. So when you find you've lost something, you take the time to remember what you had and commit yourself to finding it again.

As simple as it sounds, Craig is right. More than half the battle is waking up every day and deciding to stay in love with your spouse.

Have I mentioned I love how insightful my husband is?

My Doubly-Exceptional Child

I signed CJ's IEP yesterday, making his status as a special education student official. We had a really good meeting last week with one of his teachers, Craig and I, his Learning Specialist, the OT, psychologist and Special Education Coordinator. It was quite an impressive gathering and we had a great conversation about CJ's needs and how best to meet them.

The SPED Coordinator set the stage for the discussion by reviewing his evaluations. He was found eligible for services based on his Non-verbal Learning Disorder. He actually has what is known as a Dual Exceptionality, since he also qualifies as a gifted student. This can be helpful since he will be able to compensate for some of his weaknesses but also poses challenges since he can easily become frustrated and at times bored.

At this point, CJ is on track academically (yay, gifted) so most of the focus right now will be on his sensory issues. The OT was very pleased that he had been identified this young since it means that they can actually use therapy to rewire his system. This is pretty huge, in general SPED works on helps student to compensate for weaknesses, actually "fixing" them is not usually an option. It means that with aggressive work now, CJ should be able to function normally within a classroom setting. Resolving his sensory issues before any academic difficulties kick in will make handling them that much easier.

I have to say that I am incredibly happy with how CJ is doing at Stokes. His teachers are fabulous and have done an amazing job of meeting his needs in the classroom, even before any additional help has been put in place. Over the next week, CJ's services will start to kick in and hopefully we'll see him making even more progress.

Most importantly for us, CJ is also really happy. He has made great friends and enjoys his days with his teachers. The peace of mind that brings to Craig and me is truly priceless.

Building a Comunity of Learners? First, Welcome Everyone

For a school to be truly successful it must be made up of a community of learners, or an environment where students support each other and their teachers. This is particularly true in an urban environment, where students often have issues outside the school that can greatly impact their school experience. Creating a community of learners, however, remains for most an unfulfilled and often overlooked ideal. We feel very lucky, because the boys' new school seems to have done just that. To begin with, Stokes has realized that in order to have a community of learners, you must first have a community and communities are built by shared experiences for teachers/staff, students and their parents.

Parent outreach is particularly challenging in this day and age. Easy things first, I have never walked into that building without someone greeting me with a smile. It is a small thing, but you'd be amazed at how important it can be. If the people who work there don't seem like they want to be there, then why would I? Also, Stokes had new parent orientation the week before school started and I was surprised at the turn-out. Then again, they have a parent outreach coordinator on staff and I received a phone call the night before reminding me about the meeting and encouraging me to attend (the phone calls were in Spanish where appropriate). At the orientation, parents requiring translation were given headsets and a teacher provided a simultaneous translation of everything that was said so no one felt out of place. Ninety percent of faculty and staff were also present, modeling the engagement they wanted to see from others.

This same philosophy held true on the first day of school. Presented with the natural chaos of the first day, Stokes made the decision to embrace it. Not only did they welcome the students and their parents to the celebration, however, they reached out to the Brookland community and invited them to join us. After a short morning meeting, the entire school gathered in the courtyard and began a parade up 12th street, walking a 6 block square complete with fire engine, music and balloons. It was great to see. On the way home from school that afternoon, a man stopped my boys and asked if they were in the parade that morning (they were wearing Stokes t-shirts). When they said yes, he told them he'd been watching and he hoped that they had a great first day and a wonderful year.

They follow up the first day with continual opportunities for those experiences. All students 1st grade and up start every day with a school-wide morning meeting, where they repeat the school's three rules (I will take care of myself, of others and of my community) and sing. It only lasts 10 minutes, but it brings everyone together and helps them recognize they are part of something larger than just their classroom. (One of the saddest days I had at our old school was when they stopped holding the Monday morning meeting since it meant that there was never a time when the school gathered as a whole.) Today they all participated in Chalk for Peace, gathering outside the school for 20 minutes to draw pictures representing their vision of peace. Even the placement of their playground plays a role. Right outside the front of the school, it draws students and their parents at dismissal and gives us the opportunity to cement relationships with each other.

In the first two weeks of school, they have already provided more opportunities for community building than many schools do in a year and my boys and I feel like a part of Stokes and enjoy our time there. I'm looking forward to seeing how they turn this sense of belonging into an impetus for learning. Right now, however, it's just nice to know we've found a school that feels as strongly about community as I do.

Another New Diagnosis...

CJ had a pretty intense round of testing with an Occupational Therapist last week (4.5 hours over two days). Craig and I met with the OT today to review CJ's results and it's official, he has a Sensory Processing Disorder.

We weren't surprised that his gross motor skills were largely within the average range. He does have some problems with his fine motor skills and also some muscle weakness, the last was a surprise.

The largest issues were sensory. There were a series of tests where she touched parts of his arms with a pen while he couldn't see them to see if he could locate the spot touched. He is touch sensitive, indicating the light touches felt like he was getting a shot. He was also pretty far off target in trying to locate where he was touched. All the bouncing around he does, off of furniture and other people, is sensory seeking and fit in with other pieces from the testing. Especially exciting to us, his potty-training issues also fit in with the diagnosis (he actually means it when he says he can't feel it when he needs to go) and we should be able to see improvement in that as he makes progress.

She'll write up all the results and talk to the OT at CJ's school and the psychologist to coordinate treatment. Luckily, there is a lot of research out there on treatment and he should make a lot of progress once we get started with, most likely, twice a week therapy sessions.

Craig and I will also have a lot to do at home. She recommended a trampoline and a boxing bag to help him get his sensory fixes in a more appropriate manner, which we'll explore.

It is unclear how this ties in with his earlier diagnosis. There is some overlap but how much is unclear and what role the sensory issues could have played in his low Performance IQ score remains to be seen. Eventually, we'll have the psycho-educational testing redone and see if there is any change.

It satisfying to have nailed down yet another aspect of his problems and feel like we're making progress. He is also doing well in his classroom, which is a relief. His teachers have been really proactive with him and seem to be helping him manage well.

Seeing what looks like a light at the end of the tunnel makes us happy, once we start making greater progress towards the light we'll be even happier.

First day blues...

So a month ago I would have thought I'd be overjoyed tonight. The boys head back to school tomorrow and it will only be TR and me at home for the first time. I am excited to have some time alone with TR, it's true, but am surprisingly sad at the thought of my other boys leaving me again. There have definitely been long days this summer, but there has also been fun and a welcome opportunity to spend the time with my boys I'd been missing the last two years while working.

The boys seem to be semi-excited about their new journey. CJ did not get into the Chinese immersion program after all, so we decided to leave AJ in the French program as well. I met with CJ's team for an hour last week and came away with a great sense of confidence. The teachers had great ideas for incorporating him in the classroom and it's obvious that they have the experience to give him what he needs. CJ was thrilled to learn that his French teacher plays the guitar and they will be singing lots of songs in French. The only thing that could make him happier would be if he handed CJ the guitar.

AJ came to the new parent orientation program and got to meet his teachers, which made him happy. He doesn't adapt to change as well as CJ and has more anxiety about the switch from his old school, but he is being incredibly mature about it all. We had a chat this weekend and he is definitely planning for the best. One of his teachers is from London, and he thinks that is pretty cool. There are 4 other new students in the class, which should also help.

Craig and I are happy that both classes have about 20 kids in them and there are two certified teachers in each, a 10 to 1 ratio is hard to get anywhere. It is also an established school, going into it's 12th year, which shows in lots of ways big and small. They have already ironed out a lot of the bugs and have set routines and a fantastic school culture. One example, the school has a first day celebration, complete with a parade down 12th street accompanied by fire trucks, which they will both love.

Erica and I took the boys for a walk on the C & O canal at Great Falls this morning and it was fun to watch them exploring nature. Craig was working on the basement when we got back and AJ took some extra wood and made scales for Craig and I, hammering the nails himself and painting them. He was very proud of his work. CJ played games with his aunt and took it easy. They hung out with friends before dinner and generally had a great last day of summer vacation.

We've delivered the supplies to school. I took orders for first day of school lunches and they are prepped. Craig is going to stay with AJ for the first part of the morning and I'll be in CJ's class with TR. We are all as ready as we can be for the changes that will come with a new school year.

The mixed emotions inherent in parenthood always surprise me. We spend a lot of time waiting for what is to come, for the first steps, first words and all those first days of school. Yet when they are here, they are inevitably accompanied by a tinge of sorrow, for each of those changes is one more small step away from you. We work hard to ensure that our children are prepared to leave the nest in little ways and then big, but can never ease the pain that we feel when we are no longer the center of their lives. It seems that growing pains are not just for children.

It's only money...

We had a good meeting with a psychologist today. Spent a lot of time talking about CJ and his strengths and weaknesses. It sounds like she'll do a great job working with CJ and also coordinating with whatever school he ends up attending, great news. She's going to see him on Tuesday and we'll take it from there.

She also said she thinks he has Sensory Integration Dysfunction (SID). Basically, it means that he can't process all the information coming at him from his senses (think of the mixing bowl at rush hour). He still walks on his tip-toes and has all kind of sensitivities to touch (doesn't like seams in his socks, weird about collars on his neck, etc.) and also hates to use utensils (seriously, he prefers to eat his rice with his fingers). We did have an OT evaluation last year but she wants us to have it redone by someone who specializes in SID to make sure. If he does have SID, she thinks it could also explain his low Performance IQ score since so much of that draws on areas impacted by SID. I have to admit it would be a relief to have a concrete diagnosis that is actually fairly easily handled with Occupational Therapy. We'll see what the new evaluation says, he definitely has sensory issues but whether they are the source of his problems or a symptom remains the question.

Of course, not only are we paying out of pocket for the psychologist but the OT person doesn't take insurance. It feels like a trap, I can either be home so we have the time to figure all this out or I can work so we have the money to pay for it. Still, we are far better off than many and will figure it all out. We can change insurance plans in January, which would mean most of the psychologist is covered. It will more than double our insurance costs but that's still better than paying ourselves. If he does need OT, we should be able to get that through the school so might only need to pay for the evaluation. That means we only have to make it through December and the worst should be over (knock on wood).

We took the boys out tonight for a last dinner at their favorite restaurant (Noodles and Company) and ice cream and then let them run around on the grass at UMD. They had a great time playing hide and seek (very poorly) and climbing trees (very well). It was fun to watch them enjoying the night and each other, another one of those memories I'll carry with me forever.

The thing about kids is that having one of them in need makes you realize that money is only important if it makes the lives of those you care about better. We don't work to earn more so we can buy a better car (although it can be a nice bonus), we work hard to ensure that when something like this happens we can do what needs to be done for our kids.

I hope they all understand that when they show up for school with their home haircuts.

Two steps forward...

The boys have been in camp for a week now and it has been going well. It is fascinating how differently the two boys have reacted to the experience.

AJ was pretty traumatized the first day, it is total Chinese immersion and he was fairly miserable not understanding a word his teachers said. He came home in tears saying he never wanted to go back. By the morning he was better and at the end of the second day he was full of happiness and joy, saying it was the best school ever. Twice now he has asked if he can stay there for school.

CJ, on the other hand, sailed through the first day and seemed to be doing fine all week. We had a morning routine that helped him get out of the door and tried to give him down time every night. When I picked him up on Thursday, I got a good report from the principal. I was relieved and hopeful that he would smoothly transition into this school if he got in. Maybe, I thought, the change in environment would do the trick and he would slide right in.

This morning, however, Drew waltzed right into school and Carter through a major fit. A friend watched TJ while I tried to calm and get him inside, which worked. The principal took over from there and gave me a call later to let me know how it went. He had eventually calmed down and had a good conversation with the principal and she then took him back to class and spoke with his teachers. Apparently he hadn't been doing as swimmingly as we thought, they had been letting him lie down on the ground and not take part in class whenever he liked. So he wasn't acting up, but he also wasn't fully participating.

The principal believes, and I agree, that this is not something that should be allowed. CJ needs to find appropriate ways to meet his needs and this would not count. We agreed that I would observe the class this week to see how I think it is going and take it from there. I also let her know that we were meeting with a psychologist on Friday and she was excited to hear about that. All of these conversations should be taken in the context that he is still not off the wait list, which makes it even more impressive that the school is taking the time to try and work through all of this with us.

I don't want to feel discouraged and down, but I do. It is amazing how easy it is to get your hopes up that all the problems can be easily solved and everything will be "normal," whatever that means. More than anything, I want CJ to be happy and am struggling to picture a school setting where that occurs. I know this is not the end and hopefully he will be fine in either school once we get everything in place. Things will look better soon.

Rolling, Rolling, Rolling...

Things are moving along in our neck of the woods. I met with CJ's pediatrician Friday morning to go over his evaluations and talk about next steps. She had some good input for us and is going to think about a recommendation for the neuro-psychological evaluation to see if there is an organic cause for his disability. All in all, it was a helpful conversation.

I also left with the name of a psychologist for CJ. When I spoke with her that afternoon she already had his file from the doctor and we had a good conversation. We'll meet with her on the 21st without CJ and if all goes well then she will meet with him once a week for play therapy. She'll update us on how he is doing and will also go to his school to observe him there and provide them with input on how to handle him in class, as well as to take away things she can be working on during their sessions.

I'm particularly excited about finding a psychologist since it will give us another way to help him process what is happening in his life and learn how to compensate for his disability. In play therapy, he'll work on his social skills and understanding how his actions impact those around him. It will also help support him as the adults around him figure out how to structure his world. I know he feels badly when he makes a mistake or acts out and having an outlet for that will help to make sure his self-esteem doesn't suffer.

Of course, it doesn't look like our insurance will cover it so we'll be paying out of pocket, but it's worth it and we're lucky that we can figure out how to pull together the $150 a week. Other families don't even have the option. (Insert strong language supporting health care reform here.)

This is all well timed since CJ and AJ are heading to a summer program at a possible school tomorrow. AJ has moved off the waitlist at a charter school that offers Chinese immersion and an International Baccalaureate program, which moves CJ to the top of the list. The school is offering a two week Chinese boot camp to new students and both boys are going to attend. It will help them be prepared for school should we send them and also provide us with some data on which to base our decision. We are lucky to have the possibility of choosing from two really good programs, although actually deciding might be hard.

I have to admit that I'm really nervous about CJ heading back to school. We had a long talk with the school administrators on Friday and they are incredibly open to his issues and willing to work with us in whatever way possible (their amazing Special Ed program is one of the big draws for the school). I really just want him to be someplace where all his wonderful qualities shine through and he is able to feel successful.

So we're keeping our fingers crossed that the next two weeks go well. All positive thoughts are appreciated!

The In-Crowd...

I just came across this post, which I wrote back in July of 2009 but never put up on my blog. A friend had lost his father and I was incredibly moved by the funeral and the amazing group of people surrounding him and his family. I didn't post it then because it seemed to close to the event for them and I didn't want to cause them more pain, but I still believe strongly in what I felt then and hope that time has made reading it easier.

There is a special dynamic that exists only at weddings and funerals, both highlight the communities in which we live our daily lives and bring into focus those who are most important to our happiness.

At a wedding, everyone is there to support the couple and celebrate their future. You're all happy, of course, but there exists at every wedding the in-crowd, that group of individuals closest to the couple. You may not know their names, but you know who they are. They were the first to arrive, often by days, and are the last to leave at the end of the night. You see them on the dance floor the most, laughing as the songs take them back to earlier times and happy memories. You know without asking that they are having the most fun and will cherish the memories of the day as much as the couple at the center of their tribe that day.

This is one of the times that having an in-crowd is not negative. The members have all earned their place in the group over years, and indeed the celebration that day is as much about them as it is about those getting married. These are the individuals who often knew them before they were a couple, who agonized with them over what to wear on the first date and where to go. They held the box of tissue and ice cream (or beer and chips) and listened to the details of the fights and then rejoiced over the make-ups. They were the first ones called after the proposal was complete (and some of them probably knew before the one being asked).

They are also the ones who will still be there once the presents have been opened and everyone else has returned to their lives. They will help celebrate the highs and grieve during the lows that are a part of any couple's life. They are a part of the in-crowd in the best possible sense. The wedding marks a new stage in the community they have created, tying them closer together and celebrating what has gone before.

This same dynamic is in place at funerals. Everyone at the funeral knew and wanted to honor the person who passed away, although some are perhaps there more to support a friend close to them. Regardless, all are there to support the family in some way, but for those closest to the deceased the loss is sharper and clearer and more deeply felt. This is the in-crowd.

For this in-crowd, there is also an element of celebration to the day. They share memories of past times, laugh at their loved one's quirks and reflect on their strengths and the times they were there for them in ways little and big. They find solace in their shared grief and lean on each other for strength, gathering instinctively around those most affected by the loss and offering a temporary, if imperfect, shield against the pain.

Their job also continues once the funeral is over. For most people, life will go on much the same as it has in the past. For the in-crowd, the real work of grieving is only beginning. They will be there for the late night calls and the endless-seeming tears. They'll remember anniversaries and birthdays and lend extra support during those first, dreadful holidays. They'll help remember all the happy times of the past and be a reminder that they will come again at a time when it is hard to imagine just that.

These are the in-crowds without which life would not only have much less joy but would also have much more pain.

Finding the significant everyday...

My aunt is a generally great person and a wonderful writer. A friend of mine loves her (Woohoo! was the email I received when she got to meet her) and once told me it was in part because she finds something to write about every day, an inspiration for my friend. I thought of this today because I've been itching to write, but have been waiting for something to happen "worth" writing about. I realized that my aunt, whose children are long gone, already knows something that I am just learning, that it's often the small events in life that are the most significant.

I haven't in the last month had any earth-shattering moments, my days follow each other in a set pattern that wouldn't keep even the most dedicated reader awake. Yet, every day small things happen that I might not even realize I was missing if I was at work but which make a memory I will treasure when I am older or create a connection with my kids that they will remember in years to come.

Lazy summer days at the pool are a gift that should not be underestimated. Playing endless rounds of jump in the pool with TR, seeing the increasing confidence with which CJ paddles around the shallow end and watching AJ take the first steps towards independence from mom with his own friends and activities, are all amazing opportunities. It was at the pool this week that CJ and I talked about marriage, and he declared that "Me and AJ are not going to get married. I mean, come on, we're boys, we don't even like girls." It was also there I got to see AJ proudly pull out his own dollar, from his allowance, to pay for ice cream rather than getting one from me.

TR's nap is another important time each day. Putting him down is one of the few points in the day when I am able to focus exclusively on him and there has evolved a rather elaborate set of routines in his mind. Much of the now limited snuggle time I get these days occurs then, which makes me happy, and he is able to choose the books himself rather than sharing with older brothers. Once he is down, the older boys are able to move at their level. I've introduced them to the wonders of Narnia and today we had a fairly involved conversation about heaven and death while drawing pictures for friends whose grandfather passed away.

My favorite moment this week did not involve me at all. Having sent the boys outside to play (and give myself some breathing room), I looked out the window and saw them sitting in a circle. They had collected stones and were sitting around a "campfire" talking. They were up and moving around in a few minutes, but the sight of three little boys hanging out and enjoying each other so naturally is one that will stay with me forever.

I am not a natural stay-at-home mom and at least once a day find myself wistfully thinking of what I could be doing in the "real world." Just as often, however, I realize how lucky I am to be able to share in the small events that together will become the most significant part of my childrens' lives.

How quickly we forget...

It has been 4 weeks since I stopped working and I'm amazed at how quickly the realities of everyday life at home have pushed everything else out of my mind. Amazed, and a little discouraged if I'm honest. I love my children and still believe I made the right choice in staying home, but already miss the intellectual stimulation of work. I also miss feeling like I have something interesting to add to conversations. My current repertoire consists largely of statements like "stop touching your brother," "that is not a toy, put it down," and the ever popular "because I said so."

I am not in a funk, however, because I made, in retrospect, the brilliant decision to volunteer for an organization that works with charter schools in the city. They do great work and it will be a wonderful opportunity to stay intellectually engaged and hopefully also will prove a bonus on my resume when I do go back to teaching. I'm meeting with the head honcho in a couple of weeks so will have some idea of how I'll be helping out after that. The benefit of volunteer work is that people are only to happy to let you do all kinds of cool and intellectually-stimulating things as long as they don't have to pay you anything.

I'm also very lucky in that volunteering at my son's school is not, for me, a substitute for work but actually just another way to get an education fix. I met with the principal yesterday and she was pretty open to my helping out however I can. Time in the boys' classrooms and on field trips will be great, but I'm also hoping to help out with testing individual students and maybe even try to organize some time with small groups of students, either for intensive support or enrichment. We'll see how much they let me get away with.

All of this means that I am able to recognize my current brain-as-mush state and not freak out too much since I look forward to a Fall full of opportunities to remember that I am, in fact, a reasonably intelligent person with skills and knowledge to offer to society. So let the summer of sloth continue.

Now, where did I put that murder mystery?

Why Geography Matters...

So Craig and I definitely knew that location was important when we were house hunting, we just didn't realize WHAT location was important. We were focused on things like metro access and parking or shopping and restaurants. Not bad things of course, but not what really matters. Apparently, what really matters when you have three boys is how close you are to a good hospital.

I know this now because I have spent much of this week in the ER at Children's National Medical Center, an excellent hospital just 5 minutes from our house. In fact, we can get there from home so quickly that the blood from a really bad gash doesn't even have time to soak through the bandage and make a mess in the car. Now that is the proximity that matters. After this week, I can also attest to the fact that their doctors are friendly and their technicians do a great job putting stitches in both 2 and 5 years olds. I'm sure that same skill will extend to dealing with broken bones and concussions when the time arises.

There are many things I love about my house and my neighborhood. If this week is anything to go by, however, it's the hospital that will keep me right where I am, at least until the boys are old enough to drive each other to the ER.

Dawn Breaks...

Having written a rather bleak post a few days ago, I thought I should follow up with more positive news.

In the grand tradition of it getting darkest before the dawn, CJ seems to have settled in to being home at last. He is now in his own room and it appears to have done the trick. He's slept 11 hours the last 2 nights, which is huge and bodes well for the future. His sleep schedule is the first thing that goes when he is spiraling and if we can correct that it generally signals we've broken the cycle. Even better, he actually went to the bathroom all by himself this morning. This marks the first time we have not cleaned up after him in several months and was a welcome relief for Craig and me, especially since his little brother is taking the final steps in potty training and doing double-duty was getting hard.

All this played out in our having a great weekend. We spent lots of time at the pool on Friday and Saturday, getting to relax and enjoy ourselves as a family. AJ had his promotion ceremony on Friday, which was wonderful. We got to see him waltz with his classmates, such a joy. Both boys started T-Ball on Saturday and had a blast and AJ also played in a soccer tournament and his team won. Today, Craig and I actually managed to get a lot done around the house and the boys entertained themselves for quite a while with only minimal conflict. Yay!

I'm sure there will be rough spots over the next couple of weeks, but those are manageable if they are not the norm, which is where we have been. His brothers managed to make it through the last couple of days without any major hits (although the bite mark on AJ's shoulder from last week will be around for a while) and also seem to be relaxing a little. Again, an important step since they also play a role in getting CJ riled up. My dad has offered to take CJ one day a week for some one-on-one time, a blessing since it will give CJ a break from the other boys and allow him to mellow out with one of his favorite people.

Craig and I both realize that we can't "fix" CJ, but we can, and do, work hard to create an environment that builds on his strengths and alleviates his areas of weakness. We're hopeful that we were closer to finishing the jigsaw puzzle than we realized.

If only I had the box top...

I'm sure a therapist would have a field day with the fact that my response to stressful situations is to start moving things around in my house. I mean, come on, feeling out of control so start exerting more control where you can? Even I can figure that one out. So it probably says something that I am currently in the middle of switching furniture around in not one, not two, but three rooms.

CJ has been home for three weeks now and it has not been a smooth re-entry. In fact, if we were a space shuttle, I'm pretty sure we'd have burned up by now. He's such a sweet kid, who throughout the day makes me want to pull all my hair out. He's escalating and today started striking out at his brothers. I know there is some way to fix this, but I can't seem to put all the pieces together in the right way.

I feel like I'm putting together a puzzle and I've lost the top that has the picture on it. I can tell it's supposed to be a calm beach scene but can't figure out how all the different parts go together and am just randomly trying each piece with all the others until I find a fit. The thing is, you know eventually you'll get there, but it is a long process and in a normal situation you'd probably give up about a third of the way through the puzzle.

This is not, however, a normal situation, so we keep trying. We're giving him his own room, hoping having some place to go and be on his own will help. I'll work harder at giving him a structured day, something that is a struggle with the rest of our life. I'll also reach out for other ideas and maybe we'll find something that will work.

I'd just settle for someone finding me the box top.

Just one of those days...

Yesterday was Craig's birthday and the boys and I had a big fest planned, including a dinner out that they had all been working really hard to earn (they had to show me I could trust their behavior in public after 5 pm and also eat a huge snack so hunger didn't interfere with said behavior maintenance). Craig and I are not that into birthdays, but the boys consider them sacred and wanted to do it up big. He had already gotten his present as I absconded with the boys on Sunday so he had a whole day to himself, which he used to go on a long bike ride and play soccer. That was not the same to the kids, however, since it did not involve cake, singing, cake, presents, and cake. One of the things about being a parent is that you find yourself doing things for yourself because of them.

Another thing about being a parent is that things rarely go the way you plan. Sure enough, in the middle of card creation I got a call from a friend in labor and was suddenly in charge of a fourth boy (age 2) as her husband rushed to the hospital to be with her. Not a problem, we got him integrated into the pack and made some changes (dinner out became pizza at home) and were actually doing all right until, right at bedtime, the man from Mid-Atlantic Waterproofing showed up.

Craig and I have determined that we can't put off dealing with our wet basement any longer. It is not good for the house or our health and so must change, however much it hurts to spend 10k on something that won't make a smidge of difference to our home's appearance. We've been collecting estimates and had already had Mid-Atlantic out once but they wanted to come back and try for the hard sell. Something we had completely forgotten in the chaos of the evening.

To recap: 6 and 5 year-olds upstairs trying to go to sleep, two 2 year-olds downstairs wanting to play and read books and have adult interaction, and one salesman in the dining room determined not to leave our house without our signature on the dotted line.

While not the birthday celebration anyone envisioned for Craig, it did fit our lives remarkably well.

Oh, little brother was born at 2 am and all are doing well. Craig and I did sign on the dotted line and our house should be significantly healthier in a few weeks. Birthday dinner will be combined with father's day.

It really does take a village...

Last weekend, we trekked up to Lancaster County for a family funfest. Five other families were along for the trip and there were a total of 14 kids (all 6 and under). We slept in real cabooses, visited a huge train museum, fed and petted farm animals and spent a day at Dutch Wonderland. For all the kids it was a weekend filled with overstimulation and could have been a disaster for CJ, that it wasn't I believe shows his and our progress in handling his needs.

CJ deserves huge credit for having learned how to recognize when he is overwhelmed and seeking a break from the situation causing it. At one point, all the kids were playing on the main playground and CJ came up and told me "there are big kids here now and I'm going to fight them." I told him that wouldn't be a good choice and he shouldn't and he said "No, mommy, I'm going to." I asked if he wanted to take a break and he said yes. After half an hour of alone time, he came back and rejoined his peers and was fine. This was the first of several times he asked to go "home" to the caboose and he spent a part of each day hanging out with dad, either in the caboose or at a smaller playground on a different part of the grounds where he could play by himself.

This was big piece for Craig and I. We listened to and validated his needs, allowing him to set his schedule and do what he needed to maintain his composure. In the past, we hadn't always responded to the clues he gave us that he needed a break and pushed him too far. We have all had a steep learning curve this year and it is good to have concrete proof that it is paying off and we are making progress in helping CJ navigate his world.

I have to credit his new school and my mom for a lot of this progress. Moving him in February was not easy, but it has paid off in spades. In a smaller class, with a teacher who knew how to handle him, CJ was able to focus on himself and learn what he needed to do. With just CJ to handle, my mom was able to work on the same skills at home that his teacher was tackling at school. The two of them made a fabulous team and I'm not sure we can ever thank them enough. It also gave Craig and I time to sort out our part in managing CJ, we were able to take a step back and look at what we needed to do to help him. The benefit of that space cannot be over-stated.

This summer will be the next big challenge for me. This weekend was easier because there were two of us. One could stay with the other boys and one could take CJ off for his break. My challenge will be finding a way to negotiate our new reality when it is just me and all three boys. The fact is that CJ at times needs a break even from his brothers since three boys are pretty overstimulating by themselves. When we are out that becomes even more difficult. I want to take the boys out to museums, the pool, and parks, but I need to find the balance between enough and too much. I'm pretty sure there will be a lot of trial and error the first few weeks, with the breakdowns to show for it.

Luckily there are some built-in breaks for us all, including a much talked about and anticipated visit from Muzzy (who ranks close to Santa Claus) and Aunt Amy. We'll also try and make a trip to my brother's to spend time with their cousins (the other standing favorites). On a weekly basis, my parents and step-parents have been great at providing breaks all around. CJ and AJ look forward to spending one-on-one time with my dad and step-mother, eagerly anticipating the next visit.

So perhaps the real lesson of this year has been how lucky we are to have such a fabulous support network. The story of the last 9 months would have been very different if we didn't have all these people surrounding us, helping us when we asked and at times when we didn't even know we needed it. That help took many forms, from direct intervention to a simple email expressing pride in the efforts we were making for CJ (one of my favorites).

Could we have done all this on our own? Perhaps, but I will be eternally grateful to everyone involved that we didn't have to.

News from the School Front

A second conversation with the school today confirmed that CJ and AJ will be attending a local charter school with a language immersion program. The program seems to offer everything we wanted so we're pretty happy.

Language immersion was one of the psychologist's recommendations for CJ. It will play on his verbal strengths, giving him an opportunity to excel in that area and also helping him hone that skill and hopefully use it more effectively to mediate his non-verbal weaknesses. We think it will also be great for AJ to have an additional challenge in the classroom to keep him engaged, a plus on both ends. They also have a very hands-on curriculum, which is especially important for CJ in the math department. Both boys seem to be more kinesthetic learners so we love the idea of their doing project-based learning in the classroom rather than an endless series of worksheets.

Another bonus is that I already know and like the Special Education Coordinator at the school. We've already started talking about what he needs and it sounds like it will be good fit. They have a social skills group in place that he can join (a big bonus since it saves us having to search one out) and a SPED teacher that has a solid background in Early Childhood Education to work with him. This is especially important since developmentally they are so different from older kids that you need the specialized knowledge to be able to work with them effectively.

I'd like to say I am worry-free, but I think that is too much to hope for at this point. November through February were hard months and I have moments where I fear we will end up back there. I do, however, feel like we are in the best possible position we can be in right now and that gives us a lot of hope for the future. That is a welcome change from the uncertainty we've been feeling lately.

Looking back to the future...

One of the hardest parts of parenting is balancing the strengths and weaknesses of your children. The goal is to help everyone appreciate what they do best while helping them work on areas where they need it. This is challenging in any family, when you add in a child with special needs it takes on an additional dimension. It is easy for their weaknesses to dominate our perception of them, which can impact the family dynamic and cause a lot of internal struggle for everyone.

I had a chance to talk to CJ's teacher last week, which was good overall. She loves having him in her class and was able to talk about all his good qualities. When I asked how he was doing, she said he has his good days and his not-so-good days but he does seem to be making progress. We talked about having him do a short three-week camp in June to cut down on the time away from the structure of the classroom and also did a double-check on whether he is as prepped as he can be for kindergarten. She agreed he is as long as we have the proper behavioral supports in place for him. I left feeling like he was going to be as ready as possible for his new school in September.

As I left, however, it was hard not to compare it mentally to parent-teacher conferences for AJ, in which we generally sit around and talk about everything he does well. There are situations like this every day that highlight our struggles with CJ compared to his brothers. We haven't really focused on potty-training TR because we are still working on it with CJ and it is frustrating as much as we try not to show it. Craig and I love sports and his brothers are off-the-charts on gross motor skills, so we have a house full of balls and baskets and goals. CJ loves this also but it is another area impacted by his disability so he gets upset when he can't keep up. I love having a house full of people and CJ struggles with groups larger than 3. It's starting to feel like our family life is designed purely to bring CJ's weaknesses into clear view.

We all have a vision of our children before they are born, what they will be like and what we will do with them. Loving that vision is easy, stepping back and recognizing who they really are and then loving that reality is trickier because it demands that we be willing to adjust our expectations and perhaps reach outside our comfort zone to do the things at which they excel. This is important not just for Craig and me, however, but also for his brothers who need to see him not simply as the source of problems or frustration, but as an individual with his own strengths.

And CJ does have some wonderful strengths. He is a sweet little boy, who loves to sit and read with us. He loves music and is constantly putting his life into song, creating original tunes and lyrics throughout the day. His artistic side is strong, he already takes great pictures, and he has an amazing imagination, making up wonderful stories for everyone. He is also quite dapper and puts together some great outfits.

The key is to stop waiting for CJ to fit into our vision of what he should be and start to let him create his own. So maybe some dance classes and his own microphone. Time with mom capturing some of his stories on paper would help to record them for posterity and give him a chance to work on his fine motor skills by illustrating them (or perhaps stickers if he's not up to drawing that day). There must be some program out there to let him do some fashion designing that is less girlie than the Barbie option.

Anything that lets us focus on CJ's strengths and the joy that they bring into our lives daily is a welcome step in the right direction. Now we just have to take it.

When feeling can be deceiving...

My last coronary artery spasm was 5 weeks ago, which is a new record for me since this all started. It took 2 weeks before I stopped feeling crappy and another 1.5 weeks before I felt normal, but I did feel normal for the first time in a long time. Wow! It was wonderful. If I didn't know I had a heart, I wouldn't have been able to tell (my ultimate gauge of health these days).

So what did I do? Nothing too radical, I simply lived my life as I normally would. C.J. was on Spring Break, so I juggled time with him and T.R. and work for the first three days. On Wednesday, I pulled A.J. from school and headed up to my mom's with all three boys to spend time with my brother and his family who were visiting. Thursday was all day in Baltimore for the boys first Major League Baseball game. It was a great week all around, until I woke up Friday and was exhausted. Really exhausted.

No problem, I could adjust. A.J. went with my brother and his family to hang out some more in College Park and on the Mall at museums, while I took the other two home for some relaxation. The drive home was a little scary but we made it. I got everyone lunch, put the little one down for a nap and sent C.J. outside to play. Still not feeling great, I had my brother drop A.J. off and Craig got home from work around 2pm (love when the office closes early for holidays) so we were set. I sat down for a little while as I know I should and it worked, I felt better.

So much better, that I cleaned my downstairs because 1) it needed it desperately and 2) I was hosting Easter dinner. On Saturday, I did all the normal prep for Easter, which in this case included shopping for Easter basket items and shoes for A.J., pulling all the 4T clothes out for T.R. and putting away the 3T clothes, and more cleaning. Did I mention I wasn't religious about my medicine this week either? But hey, I felt great.

I'm sure you can guess where this is heading.

Saturday night at 8, I did not feel well. I took my Amlodipine and waited for it to kick in. At 8:45, I really didn't feel well so I took a second (something which has been approved by my doctor) and sat there hopeful. My body, however, was not to be bought off that easily (too little, too late, it obviously thought) and sure enough by 9:00 I had had another coronary artery spasm. Ugh!!

Here's the thing about a chronic condition, it doesn't go away even when you feel good. Easy to understand in the abstract, in reality it means that you can no longer plan your life based on how you feel. The terms "sick" and "healthy" have completely different meanings. Recently I talked about "getting healthy" once I stop working and Craig jumped on me. I won't "get healthy" he pointed out, what I need to do is learn to manage my heart condition. He's right. I'm not managing my health, I'm just ignoring it whenever possible.

The real struggle for me is that the life I've always had is gone, at least for the time being. There is no more "normal." This is a pretty radical shift in perspective for me. Right now, I tend to go as far and as fast as I can until I crash, a tendency Craig would like to see replaced with a more balanced approach to life that involves fewer mangled fenders (or in this case arteries).

Maybe what I need is a new definition for normal. A definition based on the reality that there is no one thing I can't do, I just can't do everything all at once. Of course, that means I have to figure out what that new "normal" looks like. Which I can do, right after I clean my upstairs.

I know, I know, but it desperately needs it.

Dream Reading

So I'm helping the kids get their costumes on to go Trick or Treating, look outside the window and suddenly realize there are no decorations up. How is this possible? I love Halloween and we go to town (seriously, we decorate more for Halloween than for Christmas). How did I forget to decorate? Do I even have candy? I started panicking and looked for Craig to get help.

Then I woke up.

It took a minute for me to get my bearings. At first I actually started planning for how to get caught up on Halloween work, then I realized it was the last day of March - a little early for Halloween. I eventually got up and went about my day, but the dream has stuck with me.

Dreams come out of our subconscious, so where was this one lurking? Halloween does make some sense. I basically missed it this year since I was in the hospital for a heart procedure most of the day. I got home, managed to see the boys in their costumes before mom took them out and then collapsed. This was obviously not one of our finest days. A great symbol, perhaps, of all the other days, big and little, I have missed because of my heart condition?

In school, I used to have a dream where I suddenly realized I had a final in a class for which I didn't remember registering and to which I had never gone. Pretty scary. So is this just the mommy version of that dream? Am I venting my anxiety?

I have been in the middle of an internal debate over staying home next year. It makes sense on a lot of levels. I'd get a year with T.R., my last chance for little boy time. I could help get C.J. and A.J. settled into their new school and make sure the transition is as smooth as possible, especially sorting out the role the SPED department will play with C.J. I could stop trying to juggle work, home and my heart, focusing on being a healthy mom. No question, it's the right decision.

And then, I have a super-productive day at work and don't want to give up the way it feels when something clicks and I can help a teacher stay sane or a student get back on track. Or I see something I want to buy and realize I can't if there is no second income. Do these things outweigh the pros to staying home? Probably not, but they might be just enough to cause a few restless nights and the occasional anxiety dream.

Only 7 months until Halloween.

Choice is a good thing, right?

One of the most stressful aspects of parenting in DC is figuring out where your kids should go to school. If you have an income the size of a small country's GDP, you live in Upper NW or pay $25,000-$35,000 a year for private school (or both). The rest of us find charter schools or schools in Upper NW with extra slots, apply and then wait to find out if our kids got in.

In theory this is a good thing, choice being desirable. In reality, the quality of your child's education is determined by a roll of the dice. I do believe that charter schools have their place in our educational system, especially those with alternative learning models, but to me nothing can replace fixing our neighborhood schools so everyone has the opportunity to learn. In part, this requires parents like Craig and I staying part of the system.

So today I met with Ms. Little, the principal at our local elementary school, and was pretty impressed. When we talked about C.J.'s need for a very structured environment, she gave the name of the teacher who would best for him and suggested I come talk to him next week. Similarly, when I asked about coming in to help out with enrichment for students above grade level by doing some Reader's Theater, she immediately told me the process I would need to follow to set up a program and was able to give examples of others doing the same. Only a principal who was pretty confident in her teachers would be that open to others in her building.

In this, the age of testing, the classrooms are focused on literacy and math with science and history 2-3 times a week. However, I was pretty happy to hear that they have a science teacher and a science lab that acts as a special. This means that they get to do great experiments that would be harder for a classroom teacher. The science teacher is an Einstein Fellow and nationally recognized. They are applying to become a Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics (STEM) school, which would ramp this up even more. They also have art, PE, music, etc.

Another nod to NCLB, everyday from 9-9:30 they do test prep. I'm not crazy about this but can understand it. They are also assessing kids throughout the school year (which is now a standard that all schools should be meeting) to know where they are. Students who test at proficient or advanced are pulled during the test prep time for enrichment activities. I love this fact as it 1) rewards them for doing well and allows them to do engaging work that will push them ahead and 2) lets the teachers focus on students who do need extra help. They have made AYP for several years and are Middle States accredited, both good things. There are also lots of extra-curricular activities.

So would I send them there? If my kids got into Yu Ying or Stokes (two good charter schools in the neighborhood) I'd have to think about it, largely because both have language immersion programs, which the psychologist recommended for C.J. If they don't, I no longer feel like we have to pack up and move in order to ensure they get a quality education. It would definitely be worth trying and I would just spend a lot of time in the school the first year getting a sense of how it was going. This gives me a huge sense of relief.

Choice is a good thing, as long as there are viable options from which to choose.

Eureka! Local Elementary School Might Be A Go

So the weight on our shoulders for the last few weeks has been where the boys would be in school next year. C.J., at least, can't stay where he is but we aren't guaranteed a slot in any of the charter's schools to which we've applied. I have been envisioning a summer spent trying to sell the house and scrambling to figure out where to move.

Our original in-boundary school closed this year, which is a good thing, and I finally went on-line today to figure out what our new school is. It turns out that our new school is Burroughs, which is one of only 5 fully accredited schools in the district (all the others are in NW). It looks pretty impressive - nationally accredited teachers, great extra programs for kids in architecture, French, and more. They have been making AYP (the high stakes testing) so are doing something right.

I sent the principal an email and heard back immediately, always a bonus. I'll meet with her next week to see how viable an option it is. This would be a huge relief so we're keeping our fingers crossed!

The Silver Lining

One of the constants in my life for the last 13 years has been ongoing recognition of just how great my husband is. We've always had fun when we're supposed to do so, when things are going our way and times are good. I appreciate that but it is not out of the ordinary. What is remarkable is that when things haven't gone our way (like for the last 8 months), our relationship becomes stronger, not weaker.

In moments like this I always think of our first real hardship as a married couple, when I miscarried our first child. It was hands-down the worst night of my life to date, one of those experiences you can't truly understand unless you've gone through it. At 6 am when the doctor came in to tell us the baby was gone, he said something that has stuck with me ever since. He and his wife had gone through this and it had brought them closer together and he believed we should look for the same.

In the moment it seemed nice yet meaningless, one of those things people say to make you feel better when nothing really can. In the years since it has come to symbolize what I consider the true strength of our relationship. We both realize that there is nothing that we can't face and survive as long as we do it together.

Having Craig during the "for better" times is great and I appreciate all that we do. Having Craig during the "for worse" times is essential to my surviving them. That we seem to come through them all with a stronger marriage is the silver lining.

The Trap

I found some paperwork I'd been given by the psychologist at C.J.'s MDT meeting while cleaning this week, glanced through it quickly and did a double-take. My eyes, of course, had landed on the section where they discussed how often these diagnoses are not followed through on by parents and teachers. It is easy, the piece of paper explained, to get so focused on the student's strengths that you don't take seriously enough their weaknesses.

Had Craig and I fallen into this trap? C.J. has been so happy at his new school, with no real problems that we have gotten complacent. We worry a lot about every day logistics but not the long-term decisions. The Assistant Principal who is running C.J.'s meetings has been sick and busy and I haven't been pushy about scheduling the next IEP meeting. I have even wondered if we should just wait and see if there is a problem next year and have the new school create the IEP. It would then take into account any changes that occurred as he moved into kindergarten, I tell myself, and would perhaps be less complicated if I weren't so directly involved.

All are completely logical thoughts. Deep down, however, I have to admit that the piece of paper is right and part of me still doesn't want to accept all that we have learned. He is only 4 and given that today he picked up a book and started reading it to me, it is hard to believe he's going to struggle academically. It is especially difficult, though, to accept that he's not going to "grow out of" his social issues. I have spent much of my teaching life with students who struggle to fit in socially and it can be hard to watch, much less live through.

So we need to be optimistic but also realistic. We are catching everything early, which is great. He also does have this huge Verbal IQ (shown in the early reading) to help him compensate for his weakness. I see lots of reasons to be encouraged for the future and think his road will be much easier than many others with whom I've worked. But it doesn't mean we don't have a lot of work ahead

Not all the hard decisions are behind us. We don't have to tackle them all right now, but we also can't pretend they don't exist.

The Quest for Perfection

How simple it is to change parts of your life once you've left the Land of Indecision. As with most things, the first step is the hard one and then you just glide on through with the others.

Getting C.J. in a spot that worked for him was the first, and hardest, decision to make. Seeing how happy he was and how it helped everyone involved has made other decisions easier. I let Hope know that I wouldn't be coming back next year and they have decided to make the transition this year so the new person can be ready to go in the fall and so I can have a chance to get my health back in order before taking on a new position. (One that will not require 70 hour weeks and the stress of still not having meet every one's needs.) Money will be a struggle for a while, but not having Craig bear most of the weight at home and giving my kids a functional mom will make that struggle worthwhile.

Finding a new school for the boys has also started and we have some good prospects in the city. We won't know until mid-April if they got in anywhere (all the charter schools have a lottery to determine who can attend) but we are optimistic. If we don't, we'll have time to think through other options, including moving.

C.J. is still a happy camper at his school. They made and ate green eggs and ham on Friday in honor of Dr. Seuss' birthday and he loved it. He did tell me today that he wished he could go to school there without having to leave me, so I think the transition back next week might be a little rougher. The other good piece of my leaving my job is that at times I'll be able to go with him so he doesn't have to make that choice. In the meantime, we'll have lots of good snuggles and read lots of books during mommy time to let him know he is still important to us.

Life is not perfect, but I'm realizing that the quest for perfection is just that, a quest. And quests are often more about the journey than the destination.

Good Beginnings

This week went well. C.J. loved the school. For the first 30 seconds on Monday he was attached to me and then he saw the water table. The teacher came over and helped him get involved and he was off. I went to talk to the director and he spent the 20 minutes exploring the new space and announced when I came back that "I love this place!" I did too. There are 8 students and 2 teachers and lots of room for exploring his world and also directed instruction one-on-one (a modified Montessori is the best way to think about it). While we were there the teacher was working with students on taste, having them come up and sit with her to taste different liquids and talk about what each was. Very cool and very C.J. So I wrote a check and that was it. He stayed up with Mimi and spent the next three days getting to know his new classmates and teachers.

He came back last night and spent today saying goodbye to his classmates at Hope. He was a happy camper when he came home last night and full of great stories from his new world. His party today went well and he didn't seem to have any hesitation about leaving his old school behind.

Will it be this smooth for the next few weeks? Probably not. I'm sure we have some rough times ahead of us as he adjusts and figures out the limits of his teacher. She has had experience with ADHD and all the teachers have spent extra time learning about behavior management so I think it will go well, but we won't know for sure for a while. There will also be times where he misses home and we'll have to figure out how to handle those. Still, we are moving forward for the first time in a while, which is cause for celebration.

More changes for the rest of us also. I told work I would not be back next year and they are going to try and start the transition in the next month or so. This will give me more freedom to support C.J. in his adjustment and find a good space for him for next year.

I am more optimistic now than I have been for a while. For now, we are keeping our fingers crossed that the good beginning has an equally good ending.

Survival Mode meets Decision Time

"So you're in survival mode." The minute my friend said it last weekend, it clicked. We were, in fact, in survival mode. Our goal was to make it through each day and week until the school year ended or something miraculous happened, like my health improving or C.J.'s issues suddenly disappearing.

Hearing it, however, also made it hit home that, while survival mode was not great for the adults in the house, it was completely unacceptable for C.J. He has a very few months to make some pretty significant gains in his social skills so that he is better prepared to head into kindergarten. Survival mode was not going to help him. He might not lose ground, but he certainly wasn't going to gain any. The classroom that hadn't worked for him for the last 5 months was not suddenly going to become perfect. His teachers had already worked hard to put in place supports for him and formalizing everything in an IEP was not going to make them work any better than they already had.

There were, in fact, options. I could quit my job, which would be good for my health but bad for our bank account and also not so great for C.J. He needs to be around other kids and bringing him home from school would not help with his social skills since it would only further isolate him. We could send him to a different school, but we'd exhausted all the local options and the school my mom had found near her sounded great but meant sending him away for a part of each week, not a choice any parent wants to make.

So we straddled the fence, accepting no progress out of fear of making the wrong choice. We were trapped where many parents are, in the land of indecision. No option is perfect so you become unable to choose one, waiting for something better to appear. In the meantime, your lack of decision becomes a decision in itself.

What to do? Make a choice and have a back-up plan if it doesn't work. Nothing is permanent and two steps forward followed by one step backwards is still better than no steps at all.

Our choice? On Monday, C.J. and I head to my mom's so we can both see the school that sounds so great. If we agree it is and believe that he can make progress there that he can't elsewhere, he'll stay up there for a few days and try it out. If that goes well, he'll say goodbye to his friends at Hope on Friday next week and start for good up there the following Monday. When school ends in May, so will his vagabond life and we'll have (fingers-crossed) found a good place for him here for the fall.

All this will be surrounded by lots of conversations about how we found this perfect school just for him and that is the only reason he is not going to be with us all the time for the next three months. If at any time it does not seem to be working for him, we revisit our options. Perhaps my leaving work will become a necessity, either to keep him at home or to be able to go up to Meme's with him.

Is this the perfect solution? Absolutely not. Will it break my heart a little every week? Definitely. Does it make me a bad parent? I hope not. Unfortunately, that is something that only C.J. and his therapist will be able to determine when he is 30. I do know that I want my child to do more than survive. I want him to thrive.

Troubled Times

So this was not a great week. C.J. does not do well with transitions and we had Wednesday off so going back to school on Thursday really threw him. There is one student in his class who tends to push C.J.'s buttons and apparently he pushed the wrong one on Thursday and got a kick in the stomach. The other boy was fine but it did result in unhappy parents and more conversations with his teachers and Ms. Lewis, the Academy Leader for Pre-K, along with the principal.

When I spoke with Ms. Lewis about her conversation with the parents, she indicated she had mentioned I was aware of C.J.'s issues and was taking action. That's as far as it went, but she wanted to reassure them that I was not going through life ignoring the actions of my (in their minds) future serial killer son. "Great," I thought. "Another person who thinks I can't do my job."

Being human, it is hard to be out with C.J. and see the looks from other parents and, especially, non-parents. The pursued lips and drawn eyes say it all. "Look at that," I can practically hear them thinking, "she can't even control her son, what a horrible mom." On particularly bad days, I find myself wanting to reassure them that I have two completely normal sons at home. "See," I would say, "it isn't me." I almost immediately feel guilty for that sin, so like Simon Peter, denying that which I love out of fear for how I might be perceived.

I've seen the look that must be in my eyes at those moments in the eyes of parents sitting across the table from me at school. There is a certain desperation in being the parent of any child with special needs, but one with behavior problems can be especially challenging. It can be hard for anyone to understand the struggle that the simplest task can become. You can't take anything for granted and are constantly on the alert for tell-tale signs that a melt-down is on the way. Getting out the door in the morning is a monumental undertaking that can leave you exhausted and stressed-out before you've even started your day.

Here I am lucky that my training has prepared me for C.J. better than that of most parents. We already have our routines, which we stick to as much as humanly possible. The less he has to THINK about what he is doing, the less the possibility that he will react negatively to any given request. That only takes us so far, however, and there is no way to avoid some mornings where it all starts wrong. We wake up late or are out of his favorite cereal or sometimes I'm just too tired to do what I know I should and suddenly he has been in tears 4 times before we even make it to school.

Being a parent is exhausting in the best of circumstances, being the parent of C.J. leaves me in tears more often than I'd want to admit. Those tears are for him more than me, however, because I know that if I'm feeling desperate he must really be in bad shape. He doesn't act the way he does to make my life difficult, he acts that way only when he feels out of control. As hard as it is for me to watch him, it must be that much worse for him to feel so unable to cope with the world around him that his only recourse is to break down and hope that someone will help him fix it. It reminds me of a baby whose only way to communicate is through crying. C.J. doesn't know what he needs or how to get it, he only knows that he can't stand the way he feels at that moment and he wants it all to go away. Building a world in which he can exist comfortably while he increases his coping skills is even more essential now so that he can progress and we can stay sane.

This fact has led to many conversations over the last few weeks. It is apparent that I can no longer juggle my 60+ hour a week job, my health issues (which are a blog in and of themselves) and C.J.'s needs. My breaking under the pressure won't help anyone and Craig can't carry anymore of the load than he already has this last year. So, changes are on the way. A new job for me and perhaps a new place to live for us all if we can't get C.J. into a school that fits his needs.

In the meantime, another resolution to focus on the positive aspects of being C.J.'s parent. One made easier this evening when Craig and I sat and heard him reading his first book, sounding out the words and using the pictures to give him clues. It was a sweet joy to hear him working hard and to see the exultant look on his face as he high-fived me after almost every word. It was also a reminder that, like every child, he desperately wants to be hugged and told how wonderful he is.

That, at least, I can do for him.

The Reality - The MDT Meeting

As MDT meetings go, it was a good one. Everyone was there almost on time and the psychologist did a good job of explaining the test results. I was particularly encouraged to see both C.J.'s teachers taking notes throughout and to see their nods as something the doctor said resonated with them.

At one point she noted that we needed to be careful because his verbal skills might mean that he is able to parrot back the words of an idea they say to him without actually understanding what it means. His teachers simultaneously went "ahhh." It was one of those lightbulb moments you see often in these meetings, when a teacher or parent suddenly sees a pattern of behavior or interactions in a whole new way. As a SPED teacher, they are moments I value because it means that people have not only heard the diagnosis but are starting to act upon it. As a mother, it reinforced my belief that we have been lucky in the teachers with whom we are going through this process.

The team accepted the diagnosis of a Nonverbal Learning Disability and agreed to pursue additional testing as suggested by the doctor. C.J. will have an IEP that provides counseling focused on social skills and specialized instruction to help with some academic issues. Everyone will now go away and think about what exactly he needs and we will reconvene next week so they can present their goals and we can finalize the IEP, including the number of hours he will receive.

This is where the realm of the perfect and reality collide. It would be great if C.J. could have 1 to 2 hours a week of work on social skills, but is not feasible. He will most likely receive 30 minutes a week at school and we will look for a social skills group outside of school as well. His teachers have also been working with him on his interactions with others and will now have new strategies to use with him which I'm sure will help.

The hardest part of an initial MDT meeting is often when it's over and you realize it is not the end of the problem but only the beginning of solving it. An evaluation or IEP does not make the problem go away, although it would be nice if it did. You get all this information and come up with a plan for how to help the student and everyone feels great. Then you go home and he does the exact same thing he did yesterday that drove you crazy and, guess what, it still drives you crazy. Somehow just knowing what is causing the behavior does not magically make it so the behavior doesn't bother you anymore. Often the first few months after identification can be the most difficult for families and teachers because we are suddenly focused on the problem in a way we weren't before and because there is this expectation that everything should be better now that we have a plan. No matter what supports you put in place, it will take time for everyone to see the impact so hanging in there is key.

My solution today? I came home, made a quick and easy dinner, and then spent a long time simply enjoying who they are. We all sat around the table and colored pictures for a book we made, Porkypine Cartoon. We also read two chapters in our latest bedtime book. Well, C.J.'s brothers and I sat while he danced continuously around the room, stopping by occasionally to add some color to our world or ask a pointed question about the story.

But hey, at least he's a great dancer.