When I look back, I realize that we started this particular chapter of our journey over a year ago. Last September we took Miss K into the intake appointment for Speech and Language after a referral was placed the month before. Here we are 15 months later and the bulk of the activity has occurred in the last six months.
December 3rd.
That is our outcome appointment with with autism team that will tell us whether our little girl falls on the spectrum or not.
I'm conflicted.
On one hand, no one wants their child to have autism, but on the other hand, given her issues, her being on the spectrum means she'll be able to get support that we couldn't afford to do if we had to do it on our own. And that's huge!
She started nursery in September and it's been amazing to watch her bloom. Her language is progressing dramatically (as we expected it would), and she's participating in groups more than I have ever seen before. She still freaks out in large groups, and new places have her throwing herself into our arms to be held pretty quickly, but she's better than she used to be.
The thing that hasn't gotten that much better is her meltdowns. There's tantrums... and then there's the meltdowns. Twenty to thirty minutes where she is raging and inconsolable- hitting, kicking, screaming and everything. It's exhausting. And scary, because the rage is directed usually at the one person who's around and telling her no and setting her off. Me.
In those moments I have to become detached, while still providing the comfort she needs and make sure she stays safe.
It's bloody hard!
In those moments it's so difficult to see my child, and it's like someone else stepped in and possessed my child. Disconcerting is one way to describe it.
I'm taking a parenting class. It's part of the Triple P program and I'm doing a level four group class. There classes are small and all of us are dealing with challenges with our children that are above the usual small child troubles.
Lots of people I know knows someone who has a child with autism or works with children with behavioural issues, but to sit in a room and share our frustrations and our loves, and feel it's okay to be at our last and final straw, well, you can't put a price on that. It's immeasurable.
And I am very grateful to have a team of people to work with us right now. Who knows what will happen after the 3rd, but currently we have her GP, her nursery workers (2 key workers plus everyone else), Speech & Language therapist (plus an assistant), Paediatrician, Occupational Therapist and possibly a Educational Psychologist. That's a lot of people!! And I'm grateful for each of them!
We have a physical next week for Miss K, and then it'll be a (in the grand scheme) short wait till the outcome meeting.
Am I nervous? Yes. But I'm also more than ready for this. We need answers and specific help and hopefully we can smooth out the more challenging wrinkles in raising our lovely, funny and bright little girl. Who just turned 4 last month! And whom I registered for school for next year already. Queue overly dramatic mommy faint...
It's been a reminder for me lately just how fleeting life can be, that moments pass before you can process them. It's ever a reminder that as much as we need to plan for the future, we need to live in the moment.
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Dodging Bullets
I've started posts and then deleted them. I've written them in my head sooooo many times I've lost count. I think there is a part of me that hasn't wanted to write it down for fear of... judgement maybe? But really, at the end of the day, the truth is that last month brought forth every fear I have about a very complicated topic:
Another baby.
I don't want one. End of story.
Well, not quite.
I have a lot of reasons for being perfectly happy with the one child we have. Health issues from my fibromyalgia for one. A couple nights poor sleep and my body rebels. I just can't do the being awake every 2-3 hours for days on end with a newborn. I can't. I will go crazy... again. And that fear of Postpartum Depression is not a small matter. I don't have the luxury of not being okay. My husband travels a lot and it's often just me and Miss K. Add a baby to the mix and I'd lose what little sanity I have left and I'm not sure about my ability to bounce back so well, even with the right medication.
We're a long way from home. 7000 kilometres from our families. I have friends here but no one who could drop things if I really needed help. They, after all, have 2 or more kids themselves. Support networks are really, really important and mine just isn't as good as it would need to be.
Then there is the whole thought of trying to conceive and carry a pregnancy that makes me feel ill. I cannot do another miscarriage. I just can't. The second was seriously devastating to our marriage and I don't want to go through that again. I realize that that is just plain fear. I accept that. I can own that emotion.
We're broke. Like barely scrapping by. We can't keep out of overdraft because we need to buy food. When choosing between maintaining good credit and eating, it's not a hard choice. We scrimp and rarely splurge on anything and it sucks because we have so many goals, so many things we want to do and experience while we're living in the UK. And we just can't. Basic needs first. Which is a drudgery that is hard to explain and rather demoralizing for a couple who feels like they should be "settled". Add a baby to this mix? And knowing that it is unlikely I could breastfeed would need formula? Are you kidding?
Then there is Miss K, whom is possibly autistic and whom I have to give 110% of my energy to just to make it through each day. Some days are good, some days are awful. She needs so much from us and I want her to have what she needs so that she can find her way in this crazy world.
But there is the one fundamental and most poignant reason to not have another baby. I don't want one. I hold newborns and older babies of friends and I smile and coo and love them to bits. But there is never a moment when I get the pang to have another one. And having had that so strongly in the first place that we tried to conceive those years ago, I know when my heart is telling me to go for it and when I should not. This is my head and heart uttering a resounding 'NO!'
For me, our family is complete. But it's been hard to tell people this, to get them to understand. I hear 'oh, you'll change your mind in a few years'. Even if that was true, my health is an overweighing concern and I have to take care of myself. My family needs me to be healthy (body and mind), and frankly, so do I.
I can answer the question 'so, is that your only one?' with a frank and happy smile and say 'yep'. She's the light of our life and makes me laugh, even when I sometimes want to cry. So is so utterly lovely and amazing to me, even on the days when motherhood feels so disheartening.
Things could be better (by a lot), but I like our family as it is. This makes sense for us, both now and in the future. We wish we could give her more somedays (especially in the way of activities to help develop some of her skills), but we're doing the best we can and we give her all the love she could possibly want.
Which is why last month brought reality crashing down around us in a very big way.
We had a pregnancy scare. Do you know how bizarre it is to say that after having such difficulty having a baby in the first place?
It's a complicated story, but suffice to say, after being so damn careful all the time, there was an oops right at my fertile part of my cycle. I was devastated at even the possibility that I could be pregnant. Angry and emotionally numb in turns. I had to stop and think for the first time in my life, could I do this? Did I have a right to go through with it if I was? How could we possibly manage? Some people would say, 'oh you just do'. But at what cost? If it would put us into true poverty, destroy my health and well being and impact my family negatively, isn't that too much? I wrestled these questions against the fact that having a viable pregnancy is a miracle for me, so if that was the case, how would I feel? For me, if I was pregnant, there was no situation that had a positive outcome. None.
10 days later (I've got short but clockwork cycles), right on time, I got my period and a negative test. I tested again about 4 days later to be sure. Negative.
For someone who had wanted positives so badly before, there was nothing less than ecstatic relief.
Deep breath.
There are things to think about, decisions that need to be made that require both my husband on I to be on the same wavelength. For now though, I can know that we dodged that bullet. And yet, it feels like it still grazed me because I think about it lots, pondering in turns what I would have chosen. I still don't know and that is the part that is difficult. It is a narrow miss that has impacted me just as much as any of my pregnancies (miscarried and successful alike) and I can't help but think it will mark me just as much.
Another baby.
I don't want one. End of story.
Well, not quite.
I have a lot of reasons for being perfectly happy with the one child we have. Health issues from my fibromyalgia for one. A couple nights poor sleep and my body rebels. I just can't do the being awake every 2-3 hours for days on end with a newborn. I can't. I will go crazy... again. And that fear of Postpartum Depression is not a small matter. I don't have the luxury of not being okay. My husband travels a lot and it's often just me and Miss K. Add a baby to the mix and I'd lose what little sanity I have left and I'm not sure about my ability to bounce back so well, even with the right medication.
We're a long way from home. 7000 kilometres from our families. I have friends here but no one who could drop things if I really needed help. They, after all, have 2 or more kids themselves. Support networks are really, really important and mine just isn't as good as it would need to be.
Then there is the whole thought of trying to conceive and carry a pregnancy that makes me feel ill. I cannot do another miscarriage. I just can't. The second was seriously devastating to our marriage and I don't want to go through that again. I realize that that is just plain fear. I accept that. I can own that emotion.
We're broke. Like barely scrapping by. We can't keep out of overdraft because we need to buy food. When choosing between maintaining good credit and eating, it's not a hard choice. We scrimp and rarely splurge on anything and it sucks because we have so many goals, so many things we want to do and experience while we're living in the UK. And we just can't. Basic needs first. Which is a drudgery that is hard to explain and rather demoralizing for a couple who feels like they should be "settled". Add a baby to this mix? And knowing that it is unlikely I could breastfeed would need formula? Are you kidding?
Then there is Miss K, whom is possibly autistic and whom I have to give 110% of my energy to just to make it through each day. Some days are good, some days are awful. She needs so much from us and I want her to have what she needs so that she can find her way in this crazy world.
But there is the one fundamental and most poignant reason to not have another baby. I don't want one. I hold newborns and older babies of friends and I smile and coo and love them to bits. But there is never a moment when I get the pang to have another one. And having had that so strongly in the first place that we tried to conceive those years ago, I know when my heart is telling me to go for it and when I should not. This is my head and heart uttering a resounding 'NO!'
For me, our family is complete. But it's been hard to tell people this, to get them to understand. I hear 'oh, you'll change your mind in a few years'. Even if that was true, my health is an overweighing concern and I have to take care of myself. My family needs me to be healthy (body and mind), and frankly, so do I.
I can answer the question 'so, is that your only one?' with a frank and happy smile and say 'yep'. She's the light of our life and makes me laugh, even when I sometimes want to cry. So is so utterly lovely and amazing to me, even on the days when motherhood feels so disheartening.
Things could be better (by a lot), but I like our family as it is. This makes sense for us, both now and in the future. We wish we could give her more somedays (especially in the way of activities to help develop some of her skills), but we're doing the best we can and we give her all the love she could possibly want.
Which is why last month brought reality crashing down around us in a very big way.
We had a pregnancy scare. Do you know how bizarre it is to say that after having such difficulty having a baby in the first place?
It's a complicated story, but suffice to say, after being so damn careful all the time, there was an oops right at my fertile part of my cycle. I was devastated at even the possibility that I could be pregnant. Angry and emotionally numb in turns. I had to stop and think for the first time in my life, could I do this? Did I have a right to go through with it if I was? How could we possibly manage? Some people would say, 'oh you just do'. But at what cost? If it would put us into true poverty, destroy my health and well being and impact my family negatively, isn't that too much? I wrestled these questions against the fact that having a viable pregnancy is a miracle for me, so if that was the case, how would I feel? For me, if I was pregnant, there was no situation that had a positive outcome. None.
10 days later (I've got short but clockwork cycles), right on time, I got my period and a negative test. I tested again about 4 days later to be sure. Negative.
For someone who had wanted positives so badly before, there was nothing less than ecstatic relief.
Deep breath.
There are things to think about, decisions that need to be made that require both my husband on I to be on the same wavelength. For now though, I can know that we dodged that bullet. And yet, it feels like it still grazed me because I think about it lots, pondering in turns what I would have chosen. I still don't know and that is the part that is difficult. It is a narrow miss that has impacted me just as much as any of my pregnancies (miscarried and successful alike) and I can't help but think it will mark me just as much.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
The Assessment Checklist
Spring has finally arrived here; though I should point out that it's still dipping below 0 Celsius at night. With the time change, it's light out at 8pm and after hubby gets back form this trip, I am looking forward to starting my evening runs again.
Yesterday, I met up with a couple friends and their kids and we played in the residential garden at one's townhouse. It's a concept that's quite common here in the UK, where a garden (read: fenced in green space, not necessarily with flowers) can be accessed only by the residents who live around it. My friend has a key that she needs to use to get in and out, so it's safe to let the kids run around without worrying about them getting out, and there are no dogs allowed, so no worries about dog crap in the grass where they play. There are plenty of benches, a small treed area for them to poke about and lots of grass with some hills to slide and roll down.
We took to plopping ourself on the grass and sunning ourselves and pretending it was summer while we chatted and kept an eye on the kids, who were mostly content to kick a ball around or play with the pails and shovels in the gravel walking paths.
Miss K had her hearing test yesterday. It consisted of her sitting at a small table with my behind and one of the technicians in front of her. There was a small wooden tray with holes in it and little wooden people that sat in the holes. On either side were large speakers. The game was that when she heard a tone play, she was to put a person in a hole. they played loud tones, quiet tones, middle, high and low pitched tones. They played them from different speakers too.
She passed with flying colours.
Which is a relief, but means that her issues with sound discrimination and attention are likely related to her likely autism.
But one step done and they told me it was good I got it done because Child Development would have wanted her to have it done anyway.
Yay for being ahead of the game for once!
Yesterday, I met up with a couple friends and their kids and we played in the residential garden at one's townhouse. It's a concept that's quite common here in the UK, where a garden (read: fenced in green space, not necessarily with flowers) can be accessed only by the residents who live around it. My friend has a key that she needs to use to get in and out, so it's safe to let the kids run around without worrying about them getting out, and there are no dogs allowed, so no worries about dog crap in the grass where they play. There are plenty of benches, a small treed area for them to poke about and lots of grass with some hills to slide and roll down.
We took to plopping ourself on the grass and sunning ourselves and pretending it was summer while we chatted and kept an eye on the kids, who were mostly content to kick a ball around or play with the pails and shovels in the gravel walking paths.
Miss K had her hearing test yesterday. It consisted of her sitting at a small table with my behind and one of the technicians in front of her. There was a small wooden tray with holes in it and little wooden people that sat in the holes. On either side were large speakers. The game was that when she heard a tone play, she was to put a person in a hole. they played loud tones, quiet tones, middle, high and low pitched tones. They played them from different speakers too.
She passed with flying colours.
Which is a relief, but means that her issues with sound discrimination and attention are likely related to her likely autism.
But one step done and they told me it was good I got it done because Child Development would have wanted her to have it done anyway.
Yay for being ahead of the game for once!
 |
| My girl's 'thoughtful' pose... |
Friday, March 22, 2013
Small Steps
The snow is coming down furiously right now, or at least it's being driven incessantly by the strong Scottish wind that prevails around here and is currently making our hovering around zero celsius temps feel several degrees colder (yay for Arctic fronts).
My desire to step out of the house today is about, oh, nil. But that's okay, there are some chores and writing I should do and Miss K is in a decent enough mood that if the snow doesn't stop and we do stay in all day, I think I can keep her occupied fairly easily.
I still feel stuck in my head a bit right now, but I'm calmer than I have been. Resigned a bit perhaps, and I know things will continue to shift (hopefully in a positive direction). I was productive yesterday and got out in the bright sunshine, pushing the stroller with my 16 kilo child up and down the crazy hills around here.
I made it to the nursery I want her to go to, and picked up an application form. The wait list is crazy, but with her extra needs and her age, she will likely get a higher priority. I've also had some reassurance that we should qualify for the 15 hours of free nursery that all Scottish residing children are entitled to from the age of three. I've assumed given our unusual tax status that we didn't qualify, but it's a statutory guarantee so it might work out after all. But I've also come to the conclusion that even if we don't qualify for funding, we will enroll her anyway and figure out the financial end one way or another. She needs the leadup to starting school. They don't have a kindergarten year here, so throwing her into P1 (grade 1) after being at home all the time would be ridiculous given her issues.
So right now it's a matter of getting the application in asap and hoping for the best. I'm hoping she'd get in for the August term, but that might be iffy, so we'll see.
All in all, it's the small pushes that are helping me sort things out. Baby steps.
My desire to step out of the house today is about, oh, nil. But that's okay, there are some chores and writing I should do and Miss K is in a decent enough mood that if the snow doesn't stop and we do stay in all day, I think I can keep her occupied fairly easily.
I still feel stuck in my head a bit right now, but I'm calmer than I have been. Resigned a bit perhaps, and I know things will continue to shift (hopefully in a positive direction). I was productive yesterday and got out in the bright sunshine, pushing the stroller with my 16 kilo child up and down the crazy hills around here.
I made it to the nursery I want her to go to, and picked up an application form. The wait list is crazy, but with her extra needs and her age, she will likely get a higher priority. I've also had some reassurance that we should qualify for the 15 hours of free nursery that all Scottish residing children are entitled to from the age of three. I've assumed given our unusual tax status that we didn't qualify, but it's a statutory guarantee so it might work out after all. But I've also come to the conclusion that even if we don't qualify for funding, we will enroll her anyway and figure out the financial end one way or another. She needs the leadup to starting school. They don't have a kindergarten year here, so throwing her into P1 (grade 1) after being at home all the time would be ridiculous given her issues.
So right now it's a matter of getting the application in asap and hoping for the best. I'm hoping she'd get in for the August term, but that might be iffy, so we'll see.
All in all, it's the small pushes that are helping me sort things out. Baby steps.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
One Day at a Time
Pardon me while I flop down tiredly with my cup of tea.
Miss K and I got back from a rather long walk this afternoon. It was like most of the days here lately where the rain is light be ever present and just looking outside makes you feel depressed. I'm bracing myself since I know rain is in the forecast for another few days.
Our letting agent came by for a an inspection, which meant that though I was sure as hell not cleaning the flat top to bottom for a five minute chat, I did at least feel compelled to tidy and vacuum the carpets. Not that the vacuum really sucks up anything. Just enough to make it look a little better but not enough to actually clean the carpets. This annoys me to no end, especially with a three year old around who's always playing on those carpets. But in this rental living game I've learned some important lessons and one of those is to pick your battles.
In this case it means though while my comments and list of things wrong with the place is as long as my arm, in reality I only mention the top three in hopes that they might actually get taken care of. If we're lucky.
This time it was a repeat of all three of the things I mentioned before: Our sinking bathtub, the foot board for the cupboards that needs cutting and reinstalling so it's not laying on our kitchen floor by our feet, and the awful mattresses. He really seems to be on top of them this time, but I think I won't get my hopes up. I know a lot of it depends on the owner, and it's probably unlikely the owner probably hasn't set foot in the place in years to know what really needs help, so this is where our intermediary letting agent comes in, right? Maybe. We'll see.
In any case, the flat is clean, I baked banana bread and made lunch and then we went for a walk. Stepping out into the misting rain, I pegged the temperature at about 4 degrees C. It was definitely chilly and so I was glad Miss K cooperated enough to let me put a hat and gloves on. She however is refusing to let us put on her winter jacket since if she goes in the stroller, she can't put her arms in the straps. She likes doing that a great deal, so goodness knows what happens when it snows and she doesn't want to walk.
We walked down to the River Clyde and on the approach to the river I was kicking myself for not bringing my camera or my phone. The river was rather still and glossy, creating near perfect reflections. Considering how rare this was, my eye was snapping pics in my head and I pouted to myself.
Despite the rain it was a fairly enjoyable walk, once we got passed the part where Miss K insisted on going to the Science Centre and we couldn't because our passes had expired and we won't be renewing them until after the new year. If we head anywhere near there and we just walk by, she freaks out. I felt for her truly because I would have loved to have taken her this afternoon, but it wasn't going to happen. C'est la vie. We had to settle for the active (and free) walk.
You'll notice that we went out in the afternoon. Yes, that can only mean one thing: she's stopped napping. What began when she was sick a couple weeks ago has continued and no amount of trying can get her down for a nap.
It's an adjustment for both of us because I felt like I lost that time I needed to do anything, like write, or bake, or clean, or more importantly some days, nap. Last week I figured out what her energy levels were like and I've learned she works best when she is very active in the morning and then in the afternoon she is then happy to do quiet things and even curl up on the couch. She may not nap, but she rests and I can actually do something. Which is how I'm writing this post right now.
I'm slowly building an arsenal of activities to keep her busy in anticipation of the many days where it's too wet to play outside and I can't afford to do extra things at indoor places. We know which museums we can go to within easy walking distance, but to be honest I can't go there all the time. It gets boring. However, I am lucky to have made some friends and hopefully there are play dates in the future.
Part of this shift has been realizing just how much activity she needs and also how to balance the quiet time for both our sakes. We can't go, go, go for 8 hours straight, so working out a good balance is key.
In other news, her vocabulary is improving, so one can only hope that she will find her words sooner rather than later to ease her frustration. This week has been far better than last week, and I attribute that to her not being sick and to us adjusting to the no-nap scenario.
I'm exhausted most days though, and barely have time to do any of the creative things I love. I know it will get there, but it's frustrating too. I also had a three-day headache over the weekend and that was frustrating because we had some nice days and all I wanted to do was go out with my camera.
Speaking of which, naturally now that I'm inside, the rain has stopped and the sun was poking out a little. Yeah, so not cool. But it's too late to go out again and I need to go make pizza dough for dinner, which got so much easier to make when I figured out how to get it not to stick to my pan and now that I own a rolling pin.
Simple things.
Miss K and I got back from a rather long walk this afternoon. It was like most of the days here lately where the rain is light be ever present and just looking outside makes you feel depressed. I'm bracing myself since I know rain is in the forecast for another few days.
Our letting agent came by for a an inspection, which meant that though I was sure as hell not cleaning the flat top to bottom for a five minute chat, I did at least feel compelled to tidy and vacuum the carpets. Not that the vacuum really sucks up anything. Just enough to make it look a little better but not enough to actually clean the carpets. This annoys me to no end, especially with a three year old around who's always playing on those carpets. But in this rental living game I've learned some important lessons and one of those is to pick your battles.
In this case it means though while my comments and list of things wrong with the place is as long as my arm, in reality I only mention the top three in hopes that they might actually get taken care of. If we're lucky.
This time it was a repeat of all three of the things I mentioned before: Our sinking bathtub, the foot board for the cupboards that needs cutting and reinstalling so it's not laying on our kitchen floor by our feet, and the awful mattresses. He really seems to be on top of them this time, but I think I won't get my hopes up. I know a lot of it depends on the owner, and it's probably unlikely the owner probably hasn't set foot in the place in years to know what really needs help, so this is where our intermediary letting agent comes in, right? Maybe. We'll see.
In any case, the flat is clean, I baked banana bread and made lunch and then we went for a walk. Stepping out into the misting rain, I pegged the temperature at about 4 degrees C. It was definitely chilly and so I was glad Miss K cooperated enough to let me put a hat and gloves on. She however is refusing to let us put on her winter jacket since if she goes in the stroller, she can't put her arms in the straps. She likes doing that a great deal, so goodness knows what happens when it snows and she doesn't want to walk.
We walked down to the River Clyde and on the approach to the river I was kicking myself for not bringing my camera or my phone. The river was rather still and glossy, creating near perfect reflections. Considering how rare this was, my eye was snapping pics in my head and I pouted to myself.
Despite the rain it was a fairly enjoyable walk, once we got passed the part where Miss K insisted on going to the Science Centre and we couldn't because our passes had expired and we won't be renewing them until after the new year. If we head anywhere near there and we just walk by, she freaks out. I felt for her truly because I would have loved to have taken her this afternoon, but it wasn't going to happen. C'est la vie. We had to settle for the active (and free) walk.
You'll notice that we went out in the afternoon. Yes, that can only mean one thing: she's stopped napping. What began when she was sick a couple weeks ago has continued and no amount of trying can get her down for a nap.
It's an adjustment for both of us because I felt like I lost that time I needed to do anything, like write, or bake, or clean, or more importantly some days, nap. Last week I figured out what her energy levels were like and I've learned she works best when she is very active in the morning and then in the afternoon she is then happy to do quiet things and even curl up on the couch. She may not nap, but she rests and I can actually do something. Which is how I'm writing this post right now.
I'm slowly building an arsenal of activities to keep her busy in anticipation of the many days where it's too wet to play outside and I can't afford to do extra things at indoor places. We know which museums we can go to within easy walking distance, but to be honest I can't go there all the time. It gets boring. However, I am lucky to have made some friends and hopefully there are play dates in the future.
Part of this shift has been realizing just how much activity she needs and also how to balance the quiet time for both our sakes. We can't go, go, go for 8 hours straight, so working out a good balance is key.
In other news, her vocabulary is improving, so one can only hope that she will find her words sooner rather than later to ease her frustration. This week has been far better than last week, and I attribute that to her not being sick and to us adjusting to the no-nap scenario.
I'm exhausted most days though, and barely have time to do any of the creative things I love. I know it will get there, but it's frustrating too. I also had a three-day headache over the weekend and that was frustrating because we had some nice days and all I wanted to do was go out with my camera.
Speaking of which, naturally now that I'm inside, the rain has stopped and the sun was poking out a little. Yeah, so not cool. But it's too late to go out again and I need to go make pizza dough for dinner, which got so much easier to make when I figured out how to get it not to stick to my pan and now that I own a rolling pin.
Simple things.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Holding On
I keep trying to start this post but as usual lately, the words aren't coming out well. I type a sentence and then delete it.
Miss K has stopped napping and I just have not adjusted to being on the entire day. It's exhausting. I know it's a phase and it will pass, but this on top of a cold going around the household means that I am not sleeping well.
Poor sleep = fibro + mood issues.
Add on top of that dealing with a three year old (and all the behavioural quirks) whom also has speech/language issues, and by the time 4 pm rolls around, I'm ready to curl up in a corner and admit defeat. But then there is something called dinner.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
I called Speech & Language today to see where we were at with the assessment. We're still on the waiting list and currently they are processing assessment requests from those who were referred to S&L back in March. Our referral was in August. So if they stay on that schedule, it will be around April before she gets her assessment!
With the speech issues comes difficulties with her behaviour. She's frustrated, I get that, but she lashes out by hitting, kicking and throwing stuff at us. We're doing the best we can to not get angry, but I'm rather tired of being a piñata. I hate losing my cool, but it seems to happen more often than I like.
Anyone else dealt with a three year old with speech/language issues? I could use some coping ideas until we get our assessment and know more about exactly what Miss K's issues are. Also, activities that are good for her that don't cost much (if any) money and don't rely on being outside. She's not good with lots of directions, and it's often rainy here.
I have all these other posts I've been wanting/trying to write but I just can't seem to get there. Until I'm coping better, they're going to have to wait.
Miss K has stopped napping and I just have not adjusted to being on the entire day. It's exhausting. I know it's a phase and it will pass, but this on top of a cold going around the household means that I am not sleeping well.
Poor sleep = fibro + mood issues.
Add on top of that dealing with a three year old (and all the behavioural quirks) whom also has speech/language issues, and by the time 4 pm rolls around, I'm ready to curl up in a corner and admit defeat. But then there is something called dinner.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
I called Speech & Language today to see where we were at with the assessment. We're still on the waiting list and currently they are processing assessment requests from those who were referred to S&L back in March. Our referral was in August. So if they stay on that schedule, it will be around April before she gets her assessment!
With the speech issues comes difficulties with her behaviour. She's frustrated, I get that, but she lashes out by hitting, kicking and throwing stuff at us. We're doing the best we can to not get angry, but I'm rather tired of being a piñata. I hate losing my cool, but it seems to happen more often than I like.
Anyone else dealt with a three year old with speech/language issues? I could use some coping ideas until we get our assessment and know more about exactly what Miss K's issues are. Also, activities that are good for her that don't cost much (if any) money and don't rely on being outside. She's not good with lots of directions, and it's often rainy here.
I have all these other posts I've been wanting/trying to write but I just can't seem to get there. Until I'm coping better, they're going to have to wait.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Letting Go
Continuing the trend of 'aha' moments, I've been working on trying to cope with the terror than can be a three year old. As a friend on Facebook mentioned, gone is the terrible twos, she now has a 'threenager' on her hands. An apt description if I ever heard it. It's not just about this small child of mine testing boundaries, now she pressing buttons and crossing lines because she can and because she knows it gets a reaction out of me. Not to mention the blood-curdling screaming that erupts out of nowhere when she doesn't get her way.
Insert proper time outs.
We had tried it before but it wasn't working. Now that she's a little bit older and comprehending a bit more (we think), they are more effective, if not to truly correct the behaviour, but to diffuse the situation, especially when tempers run high. There's only so many times in a day when I can be slapped before I want to hide out in another room. A difficult feat in such a small apartment when she can get into too many things.
Have I mentioned that she can now open any door? We won't get into the other day when she decided to leave the apartment while I was in the bedroom getting dressed. The lock system is such that we have to use a key to lock it, or put up the chain (which requires remembering to remove before your spouse comes home lest they think they're being locked out).
It's most definitely a test in patience, and I'm finding myself on the edge quite often. I'd be surprised if mothers of young children don't all have high blood pressure. In any case, the time outs are smoothing things out a bit.
The other side of this age is the creativity and crazy things they do for the sheer fun of it. Lots of times I laugh (instant blood pressure relief) but other times I just get frustrated because we don't own this place or most of the contents. Our living space is also our eating space, so you can imagine how frustrating it is to deal with spills on a crappy old carpet. There are days I'm glad for its dark green colour (some odd blend of forest green and teal). Luckily for us the place and stuff within wasn't in the greatest condition to begin with, so with some good cleaning we can hopefully get our damage deposit back when we move out.
This morning was another one of those strange moments where I was getting really frustrated with her, but also had a lightbulb go on. She loves the creative kids shows. There's a craft type show and a kids cooking show she really likes and we can watch her fiddle with stuff to mimic them. We'd be happier if she'd stick to pretend cooking for the moment, rather than 'mixing' her juice and pouring it all over the table and floor. Not fun to clean up, and not good for our tight budget.
I realized though this morning that somewhere within this all is a solution that will work for us, because there is the realization that our little girl has a wonderfully creative mind and I in no way want to quash that. I am an artist myself, and my husband is creative in his own way as well (musically inclined). I want to let her play and experiment, but somehow we need to find a way to do that that isn't at the expense of our furnished flat and doesn't cost a lot of money. I'm trying to see if we can swing an art or music class but so many of them around here are pricey.
Things to mull over as I do some short and long term planning.
Insert proper time outs.
We had tried it before but it wasn't working. Now that she's a little bit older and comprehending a bit more (we think), they are more effective, if not to truly correct the behaviour, but to diffuse the situation, especially when tempers run high. There's only so many times in a day when I can be slapped before I want to hide out in another room. A difficult feat in such a small apartment when she can get into too many things.
Have I mentioned that she can now open any door? We won't get into the other day when she decided to leave the apartment while I was in the bedroom getting dressed. The lock system is such that we have to use a key to lock it, or put up the chain (which requires remembering to remove before your spouse comes home lest they think they're being locked out).
It's most definitely a test in patience, and I'm finding myself on the edge quite often. I'd be surprised if mothers of young children don't all have high blood pressure. In any case, the time outs are smoothing things out a bit.
The other side of this age is the creativity and crazy things they do for the sheer fun of it. Lots of times I laugh (instant blood pressure relief) but other times I just get frustrated because we don't own this place or most of the contents. Our living space is also our eating space, so you can imagine how frustrating it is to deal with spills on a crappy old carpet. There are days I'm glad for its dark green colour (some odd blend of forest green and teal). Luckily for us the place and stuff within wasn't in the greatest condition to begin with, so with some good cleaning we can hopefully get our damage deposit back when we move out.
This morning was another one of those strange moments where I was getting really frustrated with her, but also had a lightbulb go on. She loves the creative kids shows. There's a craft type show and a kids cooking show she really likes and we can watch her fiddle with stuff to mimic them. We'd be happier if she'd stick to pretend cooking for the moment, rather than 'mixing' her juice and pouring it all over the table and floor. Not fun to clean up, and not good for our tight budget.
I realized though this morning that somewhere within this all is a solution that will work for us, because there is the realization that our little girl has a wonderfully creative mind and I in no way want to quash that. I am an artist myself, and my husband is creative in his own way as well (musically inclined). I want to let her play and experiment, but somehow we need to find a way to do that that isn't at the expense of our furnished flat and doesn't cost a lot of money. I'm trying to see if we can swing an art or music class but so many of them around here are pricey.
Things to mull over as I do some short and long term planning.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Three Years
Baby girl is three! How did that happen?
Actually, if I really stop to look back I do remember the last three years, and boy have they been a whirlwind. I certainly never imagined back in the days before I had my daughter just how joyful it would be and also how many tears there would be.
I have a preschooler. This is the point where I faint, right? But I'm looking over at her playing and can't help but smile. She is this little person who has such a clear personality already and it really amazes me. She's very funny and bright, running through life at full speed with great joy, and yet she can be quietly intense when she's playing on her own, showing independence to a high degree. She shows moments of pure sweetness that melts your heart.
Most times I can't stay mad at the things she does, though goodness knows there are days when I'm at my wits end! Suffice to say, I am content with things and despite all the trials (surely more to come), I know that she is a happy girl and no parent can ask for more.
We decided to cancel the party we were going to throw for her, which in hindsight turned out to be very wise. There has been so much stress lately and a party would have put me over the edge. At this point in her life, Baby Girl doesn't know what birthdays are, so it wasn't like she would be disappointed. In the end, we did something small here and yesterday had a couple of her friends over for a playdate and to share in the cupcakes I made. It was manic, but a lot of fun for everyone.
Actually, if I really stop to look back I do remember the last three years, and boy have they been a whirlwind. I certainly never imagined back in the days before I had my daughter just how joyful it would be and also how many tears there would be.
I have a preschooler. This is the point where I faint, right? But I'm looking over at her playing and can't help but smile. She is this little person who has such a clear personality already and it really amazes me. She's very funny and bright, running through life at full speed with great joy, and yet she can be quietly intense when she's playing on her own, showing independence to a high degree. She shows moments of pure sweetness that melts your heart.
Most times I can't stay mad at the things she does, though goodness knows there are days when I'm at my wits end! Suffice to say, I am content with things and despite all the trials (surely more to come), I know that she is a happy girl and no parent can ask for more.
We decided to cancel the party we were going to throw for her, which in hindsight turned out to be very wise. There has been so much stress lately and a party would have put me over the edge. At this point in her life, Baby Girl doesn't know what birthdays are, so it wasn't like she would be disappointed. In the end, we did something small here and yesterday had a couple of her friends over for a playdate and to share in the cupcakes I made. It was manic, but a lot of fun for everyone.
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| Three years of changes! Hmmm, reminds me how much I miss my red hair... |
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| Chocolate cupcakes with vanilla-raspberry buttercream. I'm getting my buttercream recipe down to an art. |
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| Look mama, no hands! |
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Confessions of a Weary Woman
My baby girl turns three in three days. I feel like it's a momentous milestone for us in our life. My toddler becomes a preschooler (even though she won't be attending preschool/nursery for some time, if at all depending on our circumstances). Sadly, due to a whole bunch of things, we've cancelled her party. Truthfully though, she doesn't understand birthdays yet, so she can't be disappointed. I feel it's for the best and we'll do something small just us.
Three is an interesting number.
Our family has three people. I am one of three children. Baby girl was our third pregnancy. Yes three seems to pop up. But let's not get ahead of ourselves and wonder if there will be three children for us. Nope, not going to happen.
My husband gets back from his second of three work trips in a span of five weeks. To say it's been a stressful time for us is an understatement. November can only get better I feel. I am fairly optimistic that things will get better, and December will be terribly exciting as we prepare to go home for a visit! 20 days spent with family and friends will do wonders for us I think. It will be a break in amongst all the chaos that spins around us.
I had assumed that next year we would be moving down to Oxfordshire for hubby's work. This may or may not happen anymore and it is completely out of our hands. Whatever the decision regarding financial compensation is, we simply choose one of two options and go with it. Both possibilities (staying in Glasgow or moving to Oxfordshire) have their pros and cons. I'm leaning towards staying in Glasgow since we're settled and it's better for my business start up. But it would mean more travel for my husband and more time where it's just me and a three year old. Could be fine but could be more difficult in the long run. We simply can't predict at this point.
Financially we are struggling, and it's frustrating for us because we're trying to make things better but every time we figure out one thing, something else hits us from above like a brick. It hurts.
This coincidentally is not helping me get my business started. The bank isn't helping either. Never in a million years would I have thought it so difficult to open a bank account, personal or business. But it is and even my alternative option has fallen through (much to my dismay). I want to vote with my feet and go elsewhere for a personal account, but without a steady income, I can't. [insert long angry sigh]
Not everything is horrible mind you, but the stress seems to bury the good things. So it's time for me to air them out to remind myself that there are good things happening!
Baby girl (I need a better nickname) is gaining moe words. They are single syllable words and she can only utter one sound in any given word (take a moment to think about how even simple words are composed of multiple sounds), but her list is ever growing. I'm keeping track of her words in a document that I can take to her assessment. We might only understand these words in context but she is constantly testing us by saying a word and waiting for us to repeat it back to her to see if we understand. The joyful look on her face when communication and comprehension has taken place stabs my heart with my own joy and makes me want to cry. We've got a long way to go but progress is happening!
In other news, my photography skills are getting stretched by both a new (read: old manual) lens I acquired for my camera, and a family portrait session I got to do. Being self taught means that I am constantly reading and practicing to upgrade my skills.I probably could do school at some point, but I won't. I'm doen with school and this is working for me. I want to do workshops some time not only in order to learn things that are harder to do on my own but to having feedback from other photographers.
I have some interesting projects on the horizon, both in my writing and my photography. When I'll have time for it all I haven't the clue. Time is not my friend these days. I can't keep up! Hubby is home tomorrow from another trans-atlantic trip. I'm tired. I get like this at the end of his work trips. Later nights (because it's harder to go to sleep when he's away) and early mornings with baby girl, plus having very little break from caring for her and taking care fo the house until evening means my free time is when I'm usually the most tired. It's so hard to accomplish the things I want.
But I keep going, dragging my feet as I go. At least I'm still moving, still taking steps. I realize that this is probably one fo those free-form, unfocused and rambling posts, but that is where my brain is at the moment. If you made it this far, good for you and thanks!
Three is an interesting number.
Our family has three people. I am one of three children. Baby girl was our third pregnancy. Yes three seems to pop up. But let's not get ahead of ourselves and wonder if there will be three children for us. Nope, not going to happen.
My husband gets back from his second of three work trips in a span of five weeks. To say it's been a stressful time for us is an understatement. November can only get better I feel. I am fairly optimistic that things will get better, and December will be terribly exciting as we prepare to go home for a visit! 20 days spent with family and friends will do wonders for us I think. It will be a break in amongst all the chaos that spins around us.
I had assumed that next year we would be moving down to Oxfordshire for hubby's work. This may or may not happen anymore and it is completely out of our hands. Whatever the decision regarding financial compensation is, we simply choose one of two options and go with it. Both possibilities (staying in Glasgow or moving to Oxfordshire) have their pros and cons. I'm leaning towards staying in Glasgow since we're settled and it's better for my business start up. But it would mean more travel for my husband and more time where it's just me and a three year old. Could be fine but could be more difficult in the long run. We simply can't predict at this point.
Financially we are struggling, and it's frustrating for us because we're trying to make things better but every time we figure out one thing, something else hits us from above like a brick. It hurts.
This coincidentally is not helping me get my business started. The bank isn't helping either. Never in a million years would I have thought it so difficult to open a bank account, personal or business. But it is and even my alternative option has fallen through (much to my dismay). I want to vote with my feet and go elsewhere for a personal account, but without a steady income, I can't. [insert long angry sigh]
Not everything is horrible mind you, but the stress seems to bury the good things. So it's time for me to air them out to remind myself that there are good things happening!
Baby girl (I need a better nickname) is gaining moe words. They are single syllable words and she can only utter one sound in any given word (take a moment to think about how even simple words are composed of multiple sounds), but her list is ever growing. I'm keeping track of her words in a document that I can take to her assessment. We might only understand these words in context but she is constantly testing us by saying a word and waiting for us to repeat it back to her to see if we understand. The joyful look on her face when communication and comprehension has taken place stabs my heart with my own joy and makes me want to cry. We've got a long way to go but progress is happening!
In other news, my photography skills are getting stretched by both a new (read: old manual) lens I acquired for my camera, and a family portrait session I got to do. Being self taught means that I am constantly reading and practicing to upgrade my skills.I probably could do school at some point, but I won't. I'm doen with school and this is working for me. I want to do workshops some time not only in order to learn things that are harder to do on my own but to having feedback from other photographers.
I have some interesting projects on the horizon, both in my writing and my photography. When I'll have time for it all I haven't the clue. Time is not my friend these days. I can't keep up! Hubby is home tomorrow from another trans-atlantic trip. I'm tired. I get like this at the end of his work trips. Later nights (because it's harder to go to sleep when he's away) and early mornings with baby girl, plus having very little break from caring for her and taking care fo the house until evening means my free time is when I'm usually the most tired. It's so hard to accomplish the things I want.
But I keep going, dragging my feet as I go. At least I'm still moving, still taking steps. I realize that this is probably one fo those free-form, unfocused and rambling posts, but that is where my brain is at the moment. If you made it this far, good for you and thanks!
Saturday, September 15, 2012
When Words Aren't Enough
I've been processing our intake appointment with Speech & Language (S&L) and I'm glad I waited a bit to write anything since it was clear that I needed the perspective.
It was better and worse than I expected, though to be honest, I truly didn't have a clue what to expect when I walked into the building. The therapist who met with K and I was friendly enough but she got quickly down to business while K played with some toys. She veered for them right away and really didn't need much prompting.
The therapist (I'll call her S), and I chatted, getting down to the nitty gritty questions. What are her issues? How does this impact her daily life? What have you been doing so far? How would things be different if her issues weren't there?
On the surface, they are fairly simple questions, and I had even answered them in my head. But sitting there, my nerves got the better of me and I felt like I was stumbling over my own words. Ironic at a S&L meeting, no?
The gist of the meeting is that they are going to go ahead and admit K to the program and she is being put on a waitlist for an appointment that will take probably till around January to occur.
Essentially what we've been doing is wrong. Not all of it, but her frustration (and consequent acting out) is because of the gap in communication that she's realizing is her problem. Also, she comprehends significantly less language than hubby and I thought. It was made very evident when we tested it in a non-familiar environment. At home, she knows where things are and how things work, so we get by just fine for the most part with what little she does say, because her nonverbal communication is great. I was told encourage it because it was helping to a degree.
Her current comprehension is one or two words out of everything we say to her. That's it.
I walked away with a list of things to do and not to do:
1. Reduce our language to one to two words. No more sentences, no more talking to her like we normally do. (ie. 'coat on', ' blue bus'
2. Don't ask questions (ie. what are you doing?). This is one part that frustrates her apparently because she doesn't understand and/or can't reply. So she says nothing. We can continue to offer her choices between two things, but that's about it. Already I can say that this is a super hard habit to break.
3. Comment on her play. (ie. A sheep, red lego etc). Keep in mind #1.
4. Take the blame for not understanding her. (ie. 'I'm sorry, mama didn't hear you', 'Silly mummy' etc). the idea is that she's feeling pressure to communicate, but since she can't this makes it our problem rather than hers and takes that pressure off of her.
If we still can't understand what she wants, change the subject so she doesn't get frustrated. Honestly, I'm not sure about this one because if she wanted something and is trying to communicate that, and I change the subject, wouldn't she feel ignored then? Not sure.
5. Wait. Give her lots of time to respond, or not respond if she chooses not to.
It seems all simple, but in practice it's very difficult. Mind you we've only been doing this a day and it'll take a few weeks before any of it becomes natural.
Walking out of the office I felt rather small. S didn't say 'you've been doing bad things' or 'you're a bad parent', but I also didn't feel very reassured or comforted. She did seem convinced that if changed K's environment, we would see a change in her frustration level by the time we got an appointment and she had a formal assessment.
What's been helpful in my processing is to think of this like being in a foreign country and only knowing a little of the language. It would be like someone saying things to you and you can only pick out one or two words here and there. Given that I experienced this in Geneva, I very much understand the frustration of not being able to understand what people are saying.
What comes next I don't know beyond waiting for the appointment. It's clear we have a lot of ground to make up, but we also have time before she starts school. There's no way we can afford to put her into nursery (a whole other topic), so for now it's just us making these changes for her. It won't be easy, but if it will help her gain some confidence with her language, it will be worth it.
It was better and worse than I expected, though to be honest, I truly didn't have a clue what to expect when I walked into the building. The therapist who met with K and I was friendly enough but she got quickly down to business while K played with some toys. She veered for them right away and really didn't need much prompting.
The therapist (I'll call her S), and I chatted, getting down to the nitty gritty questions. What are her issues? How does this impact her daily life? What have you been doing so far? How would things be different if her issues weren't there?
On the surface, they are fairly simple questions, and I had even answered them in my head. But sitting there, my nerves got the better of me and I felt like I was stumbling over my own words. Ironic at a S&L meeting, no?
The gist of the meeting is that they are going to go ahead and admit K to the program and she is being put on a waitlist for an appointment that will take probably till around January to occur.
Essentially what we've been doing is wrong. Not all of it, but her frustration (and consequent acting out) is because of the gap in communication that she's realizing is her problem. Also, she comprehends significantly less language than hubby and I thought. It was made very evident when we tested it in a non-familiar environment. At home, she knows where things are and how things work, so we get by just fine for the most part with what little she does say, because her nonverbal communication is great. I was told encourage it because it was helping to a degree.
Her current comprehension is one or two words out of everything we say to her. That's it.
I walked away with a list of things to do and not to do:
1. Reduce our language to one to two words. No more sentences, no more talking to her like we normally do. (ie. 'coat on', ' blue bus'
2. Don't ask questions (ie. what are you doing?). This is one part that frustrates her apparently because she doesn't understand and/or can't reply. So she says nothing. We can continue to offer her choices between two things, but that's about it. Already I can say that this is a super hard habit to break.
3. Comment on her play. (ie. A sheep, red lego etc). Keep in mind #1.
4. Take the blame for not understanding her. (ie. 'I'm sorry, mama didn't hear you', 'Silly mummy' etc). the idea is that she's feeling pressure to communicate, but since she can't this makes it our problem rather than hers and takes that pressure off of her.
If we still can't understand what she wants, change the subject so she doesn't get frustrated. Honestly, I'm not sure about this one because if she wanted something and is trying to communicate that, and I change the subject, wouldn't she feel ignored then? Not sure.
5. Wait. Give her lots of time to respond, or not respond if she chooses not to.
It seems all simple, but in practice it's very difficult. Mind you we've only been doing this a day and it'll take a few weeks before any of it becomes natural.
Walking out of the office I felt rather small. S didn't say 'you've been doing bad things' or 'you're a bad parent', but I also didn't feel very reassured or comforted. She did seem convinced that if changed K's environment, we would see a change in her frustration level by the time we got an appointment and she had a formal assessment.
What's been helpful in my processing is to think of this like being in a foreign country and only knowing a little of the language. It would be like someone saying things to you and you can only pick out one or two words here and there. Given that I experienced this in Geneva, I very much understand the frustration of not being able to understand what people are saying.
What comes next I don't know beyond waiting for the appointment. It's clear we have a lot of ground to make up, but we also have time before she starts school. There's no way we can afford to put her into nursery (a whole other topic), so for now it's just us making these changes for her. It won't be easy, but if it will help her gain some confidence with her language, it will be worth it.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Please Don't Tell Us We've Failed
Tomorrow we have an appointment with the folks at the Speech & Language Therapy Department.
I'm nervous to the point of being terrified.
Readers of my old blog may remember that baby girl's speech wasn't happening very quickly, and while things are a bit better before and she's progressed in some ways, there's been very little progress as far as actual discernable words. We're talking simple one-syllable words that kids use to develop sentences.
Her speech is all gobbeldy-gook most of the time, though we've figured out a few of her words and have also taught her that sheep go, "bahhhhh!" (She likes to imitate sheep).
The thing is that I want to say I'm not truly concerned for her, since I can see she is a happy and bright child. Except... the tantrums and hitting that had calmed down earlier have not only returned but have gotten worse! And it's all our of sheer frustration. Yes, some of it is the usual toddler scenario of not getting their own way, but the problem is she can't express what she wants in a straight-forward way. A grunt and pointing is often all we have to go on and it's hard to figure out which of the two dozen items in a cupboard she's actually pointing out. Our guesses are usually not bad, but this isn't working for her and it's certainly not working for us.
And she seems to think hitting (sometimes randomly) is funny. It's not funny, it hurts!
I'm worried.
Worse yet, I'm taking her to an appointment where my fear is that some person who can't possibly know all that we dealt with to conceive a healthy pregnancy, give birth and raise our child, is going to sit there and tell me we're not doing enough.
That we've failed her in some way.
Silly perhaps on the surface, but I've accepted that I am one of those moms who is okay with being 'good enough'. No super mom status for me. I giver her her basic needs, boundaries, discipline and more love than I ever could have imagined having for a child.
What else can they ask of me? Of us?
I just want her to be okay. We can tackle whatever we need to do to help her along, but it sure is going to be difficult to sit there, feeling like someone is analyzing my parenting skills.
I'm doing my best to take thing in stride and am hoping that they'll tell me she's fine and just give her time! That's not naive, is it?
I'm nervous to the point of being terrified.
Readers of my old blog may remember that baby girl's speech wasn't happening very quickly, and while things are a bit better before and she's progressed in some ways, there's been very little progress as far as actual discernable words. We're talking simple one-syllable words that kids use to develop sentences.
Her speech is all gobbeldy-gook most of the time, though we've figured out a few of her words and have also taught her that sheep go, "bahhhhh!" (She likes to imitate sheep).
The thing is that I want to say I'm not truly concerned for her, since I can see she is a happy and bright child. Except... the tantrums and hitting that had calmed down earlier have not only returned but have gotten worse! And it's all our of sheer frustration. Yes, some of it is the usual toddler scenario of not getting their own way, but the problem is she can't express what she wants in a straight-forward way. A grunt and pointing is often all we have to go on and it's hard to figure out which of the two dozen items in a cupboard she's actually pointing out. Our guesses are usually not bad, but this isn't working for her and it's certainly not working for us.
And she seems to think hitting (sometimes randomly) is funny. It's not funny, it hurts!
I'm worried.
Worse yet, I'm taking her to an appointment where my fear is that some person who can't possibly know all that we dealt with to conceive a healthy pregnancy, give birth and raise our child, is going to sit there and tell me we're not doing enough.
That we've failed her in some way.
Silly perhaps on the surface, but I've accepted that I am one of those moms who is okay with being 'good enough'. No super mom status for me. I giver her her basic needs, boundaries, discipline and more love than I ever could have imagined having for a child.
What else can they ask of me? Of us?
I just want her to be okay. We can tackle whatever we need to do to help her along, but it sure is going to be difficult to sit there, feeling like someone is analyzing my parenting skills.
I'm doing my best to take thing in stride and am hoping that they'll tell me she's fine and just give her time! That's not naive, is it?
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
An Ideal Body: Lessons for a Healthy Life
We've had our WiiFit for over two years. My mom gave us the balance board (we had the Wii already) because it wasn't ideal for her. At that point I was knee deep in PPD and needed exercise, but wasn't able to get out and do so. I used it for awhile, but it was often set aside for a run/walk outside when I got up to being able to. I like the fresh air!
These days, it's my husband who uses it regularly. Almost daily in fact, and given that he works in an office all day, when you combine his workouts (and all the strength training in it) along with his short walk to and from work, he's been losing weight right along with me.
We're both much healthier than we used to be!
I'm about 10 pounds from my 'goal' weight. I use goal loosely because as I started losing significant weight and watched my shape change I could see how much work there still was to do to arrive at a strong body with a healthy amount of body fat.
Strong is the key word here. I'm not strong, not really at all. Baby girl isn't a baby anymore and she's over 13kg. That's a lot to carry around and it's hard on my body. So I have stopped doing that. I'll note that she gets my hubby to do so, and she still doesn't want to walk very far most of the time. So when it's just her and I, most days she goes into the stroller and I walk briskly. Great for cardio and my legs, not so much for my neglected upper body. As of today I can only do two pushups. It's sad and something I am changing.
When I lost weight the first time after being diagnosed with fibromyalgia, I was enrolled at a gym and working with a personal trainer. I really couldn't afford it, but this was a very serious situation and I was determined to not be one who gave into to the disease and let it control my life any more than it already had. I was too young (23)! And that's not a criticism on others who suffer horribly from it, but at that point I hadn't been dealing with the symptoms for too long and I had a chance to overcome fibro. I took it. Along with stress management, it worked!
I don't have the luxury of a gym these days. But boy do I miss the equipment. Even back home I had some light dumbbells I could use. I've tried using things like soup cans here, but it's not enough and hard for my hands to hold. In the discount store (TK Maxx here, TJ Maxx in the US, Winners in Canada), I saw the perfect solution! Soft neoprene weights with a 'handle' that you slipped your hand into while holding the weight. They were easy to grip, conformed to my hand and I couldn't drop them. I saw them twice but couldn't buy them at the time. I went back with money in hand and sure enough they no longer had them. Damn! I'm still on the hunt for an inexpensive pair (the ones I saw were 3lbs each and only cast £7).
I yearn for that strong body because it was resistent to injury and I was sick less. Very clearly my immune system prefers me to be fit and strong. Funny that...
While working out on the WiiFit, there's a part in the yoga and strength training sections (I can only do the ones that don't require my hands on the board as it hurts too much), the 'trainer' tells you to picture your ideal body.
Easier said than done! What's ideal anyway? How do you even gauge that when you are first starting out? I think for most women who are overweight, picturing some skinny person with a flat stomach who clearly hasn't had children or dealt with stretch marks and cellulite is rather self-defeating. After all, they aren't you! So how do you begin to imagine yourself smaller?
I think it's a fairly accepted fact that when you are overweight and then lose a significant amount, your brain can have a hard time adapting and actually seeing yourself as being smaller, trimmer. Our clothes shrink and we know we're smaller but we can't convince ourselves of it.
I weighed myself two days ago. 26 pounds lost since July 2011 and I've finally moved from the 'overweight' category according to BMI, into 'Normal'. I know it's all relative, but considering I started out in the 'obese' category, this is no small feat! It was my first goal in all of this and one I'm very proud of.
But I'm still struggling to see myself in my new slimmer body as actually being as trim as it is. I've dropped 3 sizes and yet, clothes still don't fit me as well as I would like. I had a baby. I know at some point I just have to suck up the fact that my body will never be the same, but at the same time, I know with a bit of work those last ten pounds will result in a stronger body. And that is the most important thing here, right?
* * * * *
I just paused a couple minutes in writing this post. Subtle topic change now:
My nearly three year old grabbed my hand and made me get up to dance with her. The show she was watching had music on and she wanted to dance! With me!
Baby girl loves it when Ryan does the Wii. So much so that she actually directs his workouts most mornings by pointing at the screen to the ones she wants him to do. Sure, it can be annoying somedays and she really is a little slave driver, but we are so excited that she sees exercise as something fun and there is no way in hell we're going to discourage it!
This brief interlude in writing served two purposes: one, I paused, got up and made sure to move a little so that my perpetual sitting doesn't aggravate my fibro; and so much more importantly, two, baby girl reminded me that regardless of how I look, how I choose to treat my body (and mind) matters! Our example has a profound affect on her actions, especially right now when she imitates everything. If my husband and I can teach her to be respectful and loving to her body, to treat food with respect, and to value exercise and being healthy, I think we've accomplished something so very important.
The wonderful side-affect too is that we will continue to be healthier and more active, not just for her, but for ourselves too.
Now those are family values I can get behind!
* * * * *
Before Pic:
Current:
*Slight disclaimer: Sort of hard to really compare, since the before pic isn't me standing and it's cropped from a photo back at Christmas 2010. It's the best I have. And that denim skirt I'm wearing in my current pic is awesome to my body. So stretchy and it sucks me in. Not the perfect comparison, but I think you get the idea. A second note: that grey sweater looks like a bag on me now! I've finally committed it to the donate pile that's growing...
These days, it's my husband who uses it regularly. Almost daily in fact, and given that he works in an office all day, when you combine his workouts (and all the strength training in it) along with his short walk to and from work, he's been losing weight right along with me.
We're both much healthier than we used to be!
I'm about 10 pounds from my 'goal' weight. I use goal loosely because as I started losing significant weight and watched my shape change I could see how much work there still was to do to arrive at a strong body with a healthy amount of body fat.
Strong is the key word here. I'm not strong, not really at all. Baby girl isn't a baby anymore and she's over 13kg. That's a lot to carry around and it's hard on my body. So I have stopped doing that. I'll note that she gets my hubby to do so, and she still doesn't want to walk very far most of the time. So when it's just her and I, most days she goes into the stroller and I walk briskly. Great for cardio and my legs, not so much for my neglected upper body. As of today I can only do two pushups. It's sad and something I am changing.
When I lost weight the first time after being diagnosed with fibromyalgia, I was enrolled at a gym and working with a personal trainer. I really couldn't afford it, but this was a very serious situation and I was determined to not be one who gave into to the disease and let it control my life any more than it already had. I was too young (23)! And that's not a criticism on others who suffer horribly from it, but at that point I hadn't been dealing with the symptoms for too long and I had a chance to overcome fibro. I took it. Along with stress management, it worked!
I don't have the luxury of a gym these days. But boy do I miss the equipment. Even back home I had some light dumbbells I could use. I've tried using things like soup cans here, but it's not enough and hard for my hands to hold. In the discount store (TK Maxx here, TJ Maxx in the US, Winners in Canada), I saw the perfect solution! Soft neoprene weights with a 'handle' that you slipped your hand into while holding the weight. They were easy to grip, conformed to my hand and I couldn't drop them. I saw them twice but couldn't buy them at the time. I went back with money in hand and sure enough they no longer had them. Damn! I'm still on the hunt for an inexpensive pair (the ones I saw were 3lbs each and only cast £7).
I yearn for that strong body because it was resistent to injury and I was sick less. Very clearly my immune system prefers me to be fit and strong. Funny that...
While working out on the WiiFit, there's a part in the yoga and strength training sections (I can only do the ones that don't require my hands on the board as it hurts too much), the 'trainer' tells you to picture your ideal body.
Easier said than done! What's ideal anyway? How do you even gauge that when you are first starting out? I think for most women who are overweight, picturing some skinny person with a flat stomach who clearly hasn't had children or dealt with stretch marks and cellulite is rather self-defeating. After all, they aren't you! So how do you begin to imagine yourself smaller?
I think it's a fairly accepted fact that when you are overweight and then lose a significant amount, your brain can have a hard time adapting and actually seeing yourself as being smaller, trimmer. Our clothes shrink and we know we're smaller but we can't convince ourselves of it.
I weighed myself two days ago. 26 pounds lost since July 2011 and I've finally moved from the 'overweight' category according to BMI, into 'Normal'. I know it's all relative, but considering I started out in the 'obese' category, this is no small feat! It was my first goal in all of this and one I'm very proud of.
But I'm still struggling to see myself in my new slimmer body as actually being as trim as it is. I've dropped 3 sizes and yet, clothes still don't fit me as well as I would like. I had a baby. I know at some point I just have to suck up the fact that my body will never be the same, but at the same time, I know with a bit of work those last ten pounds will result in a stronger body. And that is the most important thing here, right?
* * * * *
I just paused a couple minutes in writing this post. Subtle topic change now:
My nearly three year old grabbed my hand and made me get up to dance with her. The show she was watching had music on and she wanted to dance! With me!
Baby girl loves it when Ryan does the Wii. So much so that she actually directs his workouts most mornings by pointing at the screen to the ones she wants him to do. Sure, it can be annoying somedays and she really is a little slave driver, but we are so excited that she sees exercise as something fun and there is no way in hell we're going to discourage it!
This brief interlude in writing served two purposes: one, I paused, got up and made sure to move a little so that my perpetual sitting doesn't aggravate my fibro; and so much more importantly, two, baby girl reminded me that regardless of how I look, how I choose to treat my body (and mind) matters! Our example has a profound affect on her actions, especially right now when she imitates everything. If my husband and I can teach her to be respectful and loving to her body, to treat food with respect, and to value exercise and being healthy, I think we've accomplished something so very important.
The wonderful side-affect too is that we will continue to be healthier and more active, not just for her, but for ourselves too.
Now those are family values I can get behind!
* * * * *
Before Pic:
Current:
*Slight disclaimer: Sort of hard to really compare, since the before pic isn't me standing and it's cropped from a photo back at Christmas 2010. It's the best I have. And that denim skirt I'm wearing in my current pic is awesome to my body. So stretchy and it sucks me in. Not the perfect comparison, but I think you get the idea. A second note: that grey sweater looks like a bag on me now! I've finally committed it to the donate pile that's growing...
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