Tag Archives: Grammer

Snapshots

The children have been rather neglected on the blog of late. We are just trudging through the every day, working to make it to the next bedtime. It is easy to forget to pull out the camera in the bustle of the everyday. And it’s easy to forget to write about them, especially when I’m not writing a lot anyway.

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Photo by Kathy Day

As you can see, Graham has started soccer. It is a neighborhood volunteer league and super low key and I love it. There are no games. There is barely practice. They do some running and some kicking and there is a cheer and snacks and drinks. What I really love about 3/4-year old soccer is that my kid doesn’t really stand out. Sometimes he just needs to be held tightly for a while. Sometimes he wants to do something else. And there are plenty of other kids who decide they are not super into playing soccer at the moment and would like to sit with their parents on the sidelines and cuddle. 

Of course, Graham still finds ways to distinguish himself, like in the team photo session.

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I’ve been impressed at his skills. He’s a surprisingly good kicker. He still hasn’t quite got the hang of stopping the ball but he’s much improved. He prefers to pick up his ball whenever the urge strikes him, but this is not too unusual in his age group. His favorite activity is called “Kick the Cones” where they bring in the little cones they use to mark off the practice field and aim their balls at them. Graham’s preference is to put the ball directly in front of the cone and then have his foot directly on the ball. I have to give it to him, with this approach he rarely misses.

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He has spent several months obsessed with his birthday, it’s still over a month away. I can already see 4-year-old Graham moving past his 3-year-old ways. He still has plenty of frustrating habits but he is more playful, more curious and more communicative than ever before.

As for Miss Tesser Messer, she has taken her first steps and decided that steps are not really her thing, thank you very much.

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She cruises like a champ and finds that generally she can do everything she would like to do by cruising or crawling. She is nearly 16 months and I’m hopeful that by the time she’s 2 she’ll finally decide that bipedal is the way to go. Teeth are slowly but surely making their way in. She has 4 now with a couple more almost here. Having all her front teeth seems to have revived the adventurous eater of her baby days and she’s finally venturing beyond bananas again.

My favorite new development is that she’s started to enjoy a bit of snuggling. It must be on her own terms at her own request, but she will sometimes want to sit in my lap and be held. 

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She talks and talks and talks even though she is not technically talking yet. She has said pretty much every syllable in existence and probably invented a few of her own. I don’t see words in our immediate future. She’s not a fan of signs. But we’re slowly making some progress with communication. I can at least figure out what she wants most of the time without excessive screaming.

And, as you can probably tell from these pictures, Tesser and Grammer are starting to enjoy each other’s company more. Here you can see them playing their favorite game: Dogpile. I am usually at the bottom but this time I got the camera instead.

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I swear, none of those pics are posed. They were just rolling around and having a great time and I snapped and snapped. I’m still learning so some of them are underexposed and some are out of focus but I got a fantastic set of pictures and got some good experience working with bright outdoor light. (The direction you shoot from makes a huge difference.) For once I did a great job of following my own advice and just taking pictures of my kids on the fly.

They are getting along a lot better lately and I love seeing it. Sometimes Graham will actually let Tessa play with his trains. He is taking more of an interest in her and likes to bring her snacks. 

I can’t say things with these two kiddos are easy, but they’re certainly easier and they’re definitely more fun.

Having The Talk

I used to feel like I did my best writing when things were hard. Right now I’m waiting for that to happen again. 

These days it just seems to take so much extra effort. I can’t just let the words flow. I have to think twice before I can get the words out. I have to make sure I’m being appropriate. I hear that normal bloggers do this all the time, but I’ve never really been a normal blogger. I like living openly and honestly. And it’s particularly hard because I feel like writing about this stuff is important and I want to do it right.

How do I talk about things without being cryptic? How do I talk about a relationship when I’m only half of it and I sometimes feel like there’s whole parts of it I don’t understand?

I don’t have the answers yet. 

And worse, there’s one big foreboding question which is quickly becoming the biggest concern.

Within a couple of days we will have two apartments. We will live separately. And we haven’t told Graham yet.

I did a little bit of googling and didn’t get much helpful advice. Be honest, all the advice says. Tell them it isn’t their fault. This is not so much my concern. What I worry about is that he won’t understand us.

The concept of feelings being hurt is one he’s still learning. (I think he still thinks getting your feelings hurt is a physical hurt.) The idea of fighting or arguing is foreign to him. He doesn’t really know what marriage is or that his parents chose a loving commitment together.

Hopefully once he understands the logistics and that we’ll be taking turns staying with him at the house, he won’t worry so much about the why. He doesn’t see us spending a lot of time together. He has seen us argue, although he doesn’t like it when we talk to each other, even if we’re having a pleasant conversation. (He prefers to be in the center of the spotlight. E and I have had to communicate via chat and email even when in the same room.) 

In a way I guess it’s easier because he won’t understand. But I’m not sure that will shield him from hurt or sadness. If he’s anything like me, not understanding will only make it seem stranger and scarier. For now I can just hope that he accepts it as just another hiccup, the way he was unquestioning and perfectly happy about us going out of state for a month last year. 

He will still have school and he’ll still have me waiting for the bus with him and picking him up off of it. He’ll still have plenty of time with his dad. Both of us will be there for soccer. And we’re talking about having dinner together once a week. He will stay in the same house and sleep in the same bed. The idea is to make things as easy for him as possible. That part doesn’t worry me so much.

I hope he can understand a little bit. And I hope he doesn’t understand. I just hope he’s as happy as we can make him, as untroubled and innocent as a 3-year-old should be.

Pink Shoes Part Two: Autism and Anxiety

The story of Graham’s pink shoes has only been half told.

Before we bought his new shoes he had a pair of white shoes where the velcro stopped sticking for no discernible reason. It would happen any time, any place. The more it happened, the more distracted Graham was by his shoes.

So the pink shoes weren’t just supposed to be his new, beautiful, fancy shoes. They were also supposed to be the end of the shoe drama. No more constant shoe fixing at home. No more notes from his aide at school. It would be the dawn of a bright new happy-shoe era.

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“Make it hard tight.”

It took a whole day for Graham to say those four words. They meant that we were not entering a new golden age of footwear.

It was a sign that we have a new problem to tackle.

It started with the wind. As winter came on Graham started to get upset when the wind would blow. We didn’t worry about it too much. Who likes cold wind blowing in their face? He’s a high-strung kid. It’s just one of those things.

But it got worse. He got more upset. And it’s not like we were getting less wind.

We tried to fight back by giving him a mantra. When he’s distracted, he does better, so giving him something to say was helpful. When the wind started to blow and he started to cry, we’d say, “I’m not scared of you, Wind. I am brave.” He’d repeat after us. It didn’t really help but it gave him something to do.

Every day when he gets off the bus, before we even get in the front door he reports to me whether he was scared of the wind at recess.

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When it came to the shoes, he requested they be “hard tight.” You’d tighten them as much as you could and it still wasn’t enough for him. When we got him measured for his new shoes we found out the old ones were a size and a half too small and yet he still wasn’t pleased with how tight they were.

The wind, the shoes, the way sometimes he’ll only calm down when he’s sitting on my lap being held tightly… it all meant sensory issues.

Honestly, it’s not the sensory stuff that scares me. A lot of autistic children have sensory issues. I’ve heard a lot of things and read a lot of things and I know I have resources out there.

What bothers me is seeing Graham get upset. Because it’s not just your garden variety upset kid. It’s anxiety. Real, down-to-his-toes, quivering anxiety. It’s turning into obsessiveness.

It’s a hard thing to see in a kid who’s only 3, who should have little more to worry about than sharing toys with his sister.

His age makes it tricky. What on earth do you do with a 3-year-old who has anxiety? An adult can take medication, sit down with a therapist, talk it through, develop coping techniques. But a preschooler?

It’s funny, as Graham’s autistic traits are becoming less and less obvious, other neuroses are popping up. This is the biggest and the hardest and the one that has me the most confounded. The pink shoes that were never tight enough were the final straw. This is something we have to deal with and we need to take steps soon. He needs to be able to go to school without distractions. He needs to be able to play at recess. We need to figure out if this needs to go in his IEP for next year.

I feel like we’ve had more than our fair share of good luck. We got an early diagnosis. We got 25 hours of ABA a week. We got excellent therapists and fantastic Early Intervention workers. We had a successful first IEP meeting. We got an aide for Graham for a few school hours a day. We got a fantastic little school with a wonderful classroom and teachers.

I keep waiting for our luck to end, but apparently it hasn’t yet.

I wasn’t sure what to do, so I called our Developmental Pediatrician. We check in with him twice a year and he’s the one who told us that Graham will probably no longer qualify for his diagnosis in a couple years.

He called us back with basically the best news we could’ve asked for. There’s a study for children with Autism and Anxiety where they’re using techniques they’ve used successfully with Neurotypical kids who have Anxiety. They’re going to get Graham in the study. He’ll get individual therapy.

I thought I was past the point where I’d cry over this stuff, but I did. I was just too happy to hear it. Sometimes I feel guilty that what is so hard for so many families keeps being so easy for us. But I can’t help but feel happy about Graham getting this treatment. And I’m hopeful that the amazing providers we have will soon be available to everyone everywhere.

The Boy in Pink Shoes

For a while, Graham has been asking for pink shoes. He has two pairs of sneakers, one white and one grey, but the velcro on both pairs isn’t quit working, which is causing him a lot of anxiety. Finally, I decided we had no choice but to get him a new pair and when we talked about that he said he wanted them to be pink.

As a parent who hates the idea of gender stereotypes and expectations, this warmed my heart.

Graham hasn’t shown much of a preference for colors until recently. Sure, he’d prefer shirts with trains on them, but he never cared much about color. Recently he’s taken more of an interest in color with a definite affinity for pink.

For days Graham talked about going to buy new pink shoes and on Sunday the big day came. We braved the crowds at Stride Rite (that place is always packed outside of school hours) and while we waited for our turn I brought over some shoes for him to look at.

I stuck to pink, as he requested, and pulled a variety of shoes off the shelves for him to examine. Pink with brown, pink with white, pink with grey. Pink as the main color, pink as a background color. Hot pink, light pink, inbetween pink. It became clear quickly that he had strong preferences. Pink had to be the main color and the brighter the better.

He ended up with the pinkest shoes in the place: hot pink Hello Kitty Keds with sequins and sparkles.

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He also declared that his next shoes will be Spiderman. The kid knows no gender boundaries.

Graham was so excited about his shoes. He wore them out of the store. He talked about them all day. I used them as a threat at bedtime. (“If you don’t go to bed, you won’t get to wear your new shoes tomorrow…” I’m evil.) In the morning he wasn’t crazy about the idea of getting dressed until he remembered he’d get to put on his shoes.

He talked about them lovingly. “They’re so pretty.” “They’re so cool.” “I’m so fancy.” It was true love.

He’d also picked out some socks to go with them and before putting on his hot pink shoes he put on pink leopard print socks.

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While we waited for the bus he talked about his shoes. I suggested he say hello to his bus driver, who is the nicest person ever and always says hi to Graham with no response. He wasn’t wild about the idea.

The bus came. Graham climbed on, and when the bus driver said hello, Graham pointed down and said, “Look at my new shoes.” Victory!

Of course, I knew it wasn’t all necessarily a win. I was sending him into the lion’s den even if the lions were just plain old kids.

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Sure enough, when he came home, his shoes were the first thing he talked about.

“They’re girl shoes,” he said. I felt my stomach sink. Is it too much to ask that he have one day at school without someone telling him his shoes are wrong? I wondered.

It took me a while to pry the information out of him. He wasn’t upset. The comment had come from kids in the other Kindergarten class. I told him, “They’re not girl shoes or boy shoes. They’re just kid shoes.” He didn’t seem to take much notice.

While tweeting about Graham’s shoes, someone linked me to this wonderful statement from, of all people, Kanye West.

 It’s like a little kid, a little boy, looking at colors, and no one told him what colors are good, before somebody tells you you shouldn’t like pink because that’s for girls, or you’d instantly become a gay two-year-old. Why would anyone pick blue over pink? Pink is obviously a better color.

This has also got me thinking about myself. Sure, I’m thrilled that Graham is picking what he likes and getting pink shoes. But I realize that if Tessa wanted pink sparkly shoes I’d point her in a different direction so she wouldn’t be so girly. Which is completely hypocritical of me. I need to let my kids choose what they like as long as it’s how they really feel and not what they’re pressured into.

So Tessa, if you want to wear bright pink tutus, go for it.

And for that matter, the same goes for you, Graham.

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In Which We Don’t Go On a Diet

We have never done diet restrictions at our house. Which is saying something. It’s not just how everyone seems to be going gluten-free or paleo or whatever these days. There’s also the autism community where people are constantly trying new diets, like the GFCF (gluten-free, casein-free) diet and a bunch more.

Up until now we just wanted to get the kids fed. Period. We spent a good couple of years with Graham falling over ourselves to try and find food he’d eat.

But this week we’re changing things up.

Quitting Food Dye

Yup. We’re quitting food dye. Not all of them, but Red40 in particular.

After I wrote my post about Graham’s behavior making me crazy, he went on a sudden good behavior streak. I couldn’t explain it. Until I realized that he hadn’t had his normal NutriGrain bar in the morning. (We ran out of Blueberry ones, his favorite.)  We’d also run out of GoGurts. His fruit snacks and most other treats have natural colors (THANK YOU BJ’s Warehouse for having cheap kid snacks with no artificial colors.) Suddenly my lack of grocery shopping seemed to come in handy.

I’ve heard of other kids having their behavior tied to their consumption of food dye. But no, I thought. You are not that person. You know that half of the “green” and “healthy” mumbo jumbo isn’t based on science or fact. You do not operate this way. And yet…

I quit giving Graham Blueberry NutriGrain bars. And I switched to Stonybrook Yogurt with no artificial colors. (Simply GoGurts work, too, but they don’t have them everywhere.) Graham still had his share of bad behavior, but never to the level that we felt ready to give up.

And then on Saturday he got a haircut. He was given a lollipop by the stylist. And sure enough, for the rest of that day and a good portion of Sunday he was a holy terror.

So it looks like my theory has enough evidence to continue to keep it going. I’m going to look for some no-artificial-colors treats to give him when necessary. Hopefully I can keep some in my purse to stand in for any other goodies he may be offered.

It isn’t the first time I’m not who I thought I’d be when it comes to my kids. What can I say? Parenting isn’t about the means, it’s about the end. Right?

Bringing Lunch to School

Graham is now taking his lunch. I loved the school lunches. I would be happy to eat them. The menus were good, lots of whole wheat, vegetables every day, low priced. But as Graham’s become a better communicator, I’ve realized that he’s eating only the fruit and vegetable, which means he doesn’t touch the entree. And on days where he doesn’t approve of the vegetable that means his lunch is a piece of fruit.

I had clues. He demands snacks constantly from the moment he returns home until dinner time. And then, finally, there was the note from his teacher saying “Please send more snacks.”

I didn’t want Graham to bring his lunch. I didn’t want another thing to get ready every day. And then there was the question of what he’d bring. But once the decision was made it was a lot easier than I thought.

Rubbermaid has some nice bento-box style boxes. Graham has recently discovered he can dip things in ranch. Today his lunch was broccoli and baby carrots for dipping, peanut butter crackers, an fruit squeeze pouch, chocolate milk and a special surprise of red peppers. I also have extra supplies around the house, including mini corn muffins, celery and zucchini to keep trading veggies, and such. Plus I haven’t had to dip into his usual supply of snacks: fruit snacks, animal crackers, goldfish, dates. (Yes, the fruit. He’s crazy about them.) Or his usual breakfast: applesauce, yogurt and cereal.

It turns out it’s been really easy so far. And our new warehouse club membership has been a huge help. (I have no idea why their organic chocolate milk is so much cheaper than the ones everywhere else. I’m not asking questions.)

And so far Graham has come home with everything eaten except a little bit of leftover veggies, and when he gets home he sits down and dips them in the rest of his ranch.

Phew.

Family Dinners

Last but not least, I’ve finally started to implement the family dinners I’ve been saying I’d do for months and months. It still involves a fair amount of difficulty with a certain picky eater. The other night he went to bed at 6 because he decided he didn’t want to eat his White Beans and Rice. (Even though he loves beans and rice. Oh, 3-year-olds.)

But he’s also been willing to eat stuff I never thought he would. Like Sausage and Tortellini Soup. Sure, I didn’t give him any sausage and it’s heavy on veggies he likes, but still! He likes his veggies raw and crunchy and these were soft. It took some doing, but he ate it and he liked it. SHOCKING.

While I don’t love spending dinner time negotiating with Graham, it’s still easier than it is when we’re not all sitting around the table together.

Miss Tess has done wonderfully well. I either make her a dish or feed her from my plate. Easy peasy.

There are still days where I don’t have everything together and dinner just doesn’t happen the way we’d like. But it’s gradually getting better. (Note to self: your beans and rice recipe takes 6 hours to simmer. Remember that next time so you’re not eating dinner at 9 pm.)

 

It’s a lot of changes for a short period of time, but we’re adjusting shockingly well. Just don’t expect to see any steamed kale on our table any time soon. And I guess I’ll have to start checking the ingredients of our favorite frozen pizzas for food dyes…

Me vs. Three (So Far, Three is Winning)

I think I have found my biggest struggle in life.

My biggest struggle is 3 years old.

Graham is now 3 and a half. We still have SIX LONG MONTHS before he gets to 4. And I don’t feel like there’s been a lot of progress in these six months.

I don’t mean developmentally or educationally. Graham is doing great with his letters, I see him improving on all kinds of fronts. (Bless the people at school for expecting more of my kid than I do, sometimes. He is now fully able to go to the bathroom without accompaniment or assistance pulling up his pants. I hadn’t realized we were at that point yet.)

What I mean is that our routines at home, our dynamics, our interactions: they are all stalled.

They are stuck in what I like to think of as Talking To A Wall. I can be right in front of him saying “Do not– do not– do not–” and it does not register. When he’s scolded we almost always have the same conversation.

“Graham, that is not good listening.”

“I want to listen!”

“Then listen to Mom.”

“I want to listen!”

“Then listen.”

And so on.

 

I am starting to feel some of that same loneliness that I had as a parent of an autistic child before I found autism blogs and support groups. But I don’t see people out there honestly blogging about how annoying 3-year-olds are. It is like we have to keep quiet and say our children are perfect and lovable all the time. We post pictures of them looking adorable and act like this is how they are 24/7.

Sure, we can talk about their illnesses, their hijinks,  their mischief. But we don’t seem to get into the inanity of it. The part where you want to take your head and hit it against the wall because you are having the exact same argument you had 20 minutes ago and you’ll have it several more times today. 

We recently instituted a sticker chart in hopes it would help Graham. The basic idea was that he’d have a more visible reward for good behavior and that it would be a not-as-upsetting punishment for bad behavior. His response to scolding is either a meltdown or to ignore it entirely and we needed something that he could get but not freak out about.

 Me vs. Three (So Far, Three is Winning)

It has been a week. He has had 2 good days. The rest have not been good.

He also hasn’t responded appropriately to the “sad stickers.” He gets just as upset about them as he does about a time-out. And he seems to forget about happy stickers most of the time.

I have no idea whether all of this is just how it goes with a 3-year-old. All I know is at the end of a bad day with him I am mentally and physically and emotionally spent. I just cannot function fully after a bad day, and as you can see we’re at about 70-ish% bad days.

Is this just something you live through? Is it like battle where you just have to put your head down and hope you’re still alive once the bombs stop falling?

The thing I feel the worst about is that I tend to feel rather claustrophobic with him around a lot of the time. It’s nearly impossible for me to do any kind of housework with him around. He always wants to sit on my lap. If I’m up doing housework he has to constantly be asking questions and getting underfoot. As he’s gotten older and more independent I moved most of his favorite toys up to his bedroom so he can have them safe from the baby’s grasp and give him somewhere to go on his own. It hasn’t worked. He barely ever goes upstairs to play. He must hover and ask for snacks (THE SNACK ASKING I JUST—- I CANNOT EXPLAIN HOW CRAZY THE ALL-DAY NEVERENDING SNACK ASKING MAKES ME).

We have few “rules” in the house. Just some like No Throwing and Do not touch the toilet paper. They don’t do any good, he violates them whenever he feels like it and still acts horrified and aggrieved and outraged when called out.

It doesn’t seem to matter how we talk to him. I’ve tried being more kind, more conversational, looking him in the eye, trying to help him express his anger, I’ve tried everything that crosses my mind.

Verbally, he’s not in a place where we can have any kind of conversation, either. He can rarely answer “why” questions. He answers most questions with “Yeah,” whether that’s an appropriate answer or not. We cannot really make a narrative or a story out of it that sticks.

 Me vs. Three (So Far, Three is Winning)

How many times do I tell him to put his head in the cart? Approximately a million.

I have dealt with a lot of people. I had clients who had mental health problems, low IQ’s, little education and few morals. And yet… I could get them to understand some form of reason and find a way to walk them through what they needed to know. But I cannot do that with this 3-year-old for the life of me.

I cannot find a system that sticks in his head.

If we offer incentives, he melts down if he doesn’t get it. And he is working solely for the incentive, it’s the worst kind of bribery. And the only incentives that really work are candy. I hate that. The “happy stickers” on his sticker chart don’t seem to help much, even though he knows that if he has 10 good days he gets a Mickey Clock, the thing he’s currently fixated on.

Punishments do nothing except cause screaming tantrums. As soon as the conflict is over he’ll go right back to the same behavior.

I just–

I just don’t know how to respond.

I don’t know if there’s some way I should be responding that I’m not.

And I don’t know if I’m all on my own in this or what.

All I know is that Christmas break was nearly the end of me. I spent all last week dreading the 3-day weekend. And as I’ve started to recognize that in a few months there will be a summer break I cannot even fathom how on earth I’ll survive it. How will I ever work if I have this kid in my house every day all day? AND a toddler?

I know that I’m stumped and frazzled enough to write this post knowing full well that it could bring an onslaught of parenting advice or worse, people insisting I’m doing everything wrong.

I just don’t like how I parent at the end of a bad day. I don’t like how I feel and I definitely don’t like how I look and sound. I have got to find a way to get through the next six months of this 3-year-old. I have got to make it out alive.