Spinning Yellow

Dear Manic Mommies

Hi Erin and Kristin -

I've been a loyal listener for over a year now, since right after Christmas 2006 when I received my iPod Nano.  I even went back and caught up on all your archives, initially.  I love, love, love your podcast!  Every week I find myself wanting to respond to something you've said, whether it is how hard I laughed about Kristin telling her husband she dented his car, or how I could empathize about hearing that your Kindergarten kids are the worst behaved bus riders the seasoned driver has ever encountered.  Even though I am a SAHM, I relate to most of what you say.  And I particularly like your "we're all in this together" attitude which you maintain even while sharing your opinions or advice.

You may remember me as the person who won the Wii last year.  My son often tells people that I won it in a contest by a "mommy" podcast.  Usually people have no idea what a podcast is so they just nod their heads.  They don't know what the are missing!!  And the Wii has totally improved our life, so thank you again.

Even though I enjoy your podcasts and have much to add to each one, I rarely call or write in.  But this week I could not keep silent!  You hit on not one, but two, of my big issues.  Holding kids back for Kindergarten and Day Care Centers.  In fact, I even suggested you do a show on the whole red-shirting thing, sometime last year.  My parents owned a Day Care School for 15 years and I worked there for the last 3 years.  My mother has taught preschool through second grade students and is a strong advocate for holding children back.  I am pretty opinionated on these two subjects and I feel like I know you two (even though I don't) so since you asked for advice I am going to give it.  I hope it helps.

The Kindergarten situation

Anders

As you have indicated, I think you have to hold him back, or give him a grow year, or repeat Kindergarten, or whatever you want to call it.  Do not think that you made the wrong decision by sending him to Kindergarten, though.  He is learning a ton and will feel that much more comfortable and confident with the school and the teacher when he attends next year.  Even though he has been out of the house since he was young, a day care center environment is very different from the public school and many kids need more time to get used to it.  Because Anders had already graduated from his preschool, it only made sense for him to attend Kindergarten.  I agree with his teacher's assessment that based on his current academic standing and his emotional sensitivity that he needs another year to "cook".  Also, statistics do show that kids who start out behind tend to remain playing catch-up, but that is not always the case.

My sister has a fall birthday and to this day both she and my mother feel that they made a mistake by not holding her back.  She has always struggled with reading and has never been a confident student.  In addition, she was always younger than her classmates which meant that she did everything later and felt left out.  Her son, who is now 10, has a July birthday.  He is small for his age and based on her experience and his teachers recommendations, she had him repeat Kindergarten.  He is now excelling in fourth grade and still has friends in the fifth grade along with his classmates. 

As for telling him, I would suggested framing it as an opportunity (I know you already know this).  He will be able to be like his rock star girl friend who knows everything.  Instead of being the last to do things, he will be the first.  If he wants to play sports, he will be the older, stronger, bigger kid, and have an advantage.  He may be mad, but he will get over it.  Remember, he is still relatively young and years from now he will thank you.  I promise!   The hardest part is that he is such good friends with Tommy.  My son, Scott, has friends who are in the class ahead and behind his and it is great to widen their circle.  Plus Tommy can give him a heads up on all the things he will be doing next.

Now, this is important (because I said I was going to give you my opinions as if I know you):  Go get the book Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons.  In the beginning of the school year, this fall, start the lessons.  Anders will be a little bored with school because Kindergarten starts out slow.  But this will give him something to work on and he will be reading, I guarantee, by Christmas.  He will feel so happy and successful.  Everything will be perfect!  OK, I am getting a little carried away, but seriously, it is a fabulous program, only takes 10 - 20 minutes per day and is so worth it (you could do it after dinner each night).  Scott is an excellent reader, two grade levels ahead, and I credit a lot of it with doing this program.  I do not think that he would have learned how to read the way they teach it in school.  Being a strong reader is an important building block for all other subjects.  Think about it.  When the teacher puts something up on the board and all the other kids are trying to remember what she said, Anders will be able to read it.  He will be a superstar.  (Not that he isn't already, but you know what I mean).

Tommy

Where I live, in PA, holding kids back for behavior is pretty standard.  Although I agree that Anders should be held back, I think Tommy's situation is completely different.  Tommy seems to be similar to my son.  Scott was a serious behavior problem back in preschool and was diagnosed with a condition called Sensory Processing Disorder (you can read more about our story here, if you want).  At the time of his diagnosis there was much discussion as to whether he should do a grow year.  I looked into programs and had him evaluated several times.  We stressed about whether he could handle the Kindergarten environment given his lack of self control and out-of-bounds behavior. 

The term immature came up several times but I always found this confusing and an inadequate description.  Although he had trouble controlling himself in a group of kids, he was very mature with grown-ups.  He could discuss complicated topics and sit still for a long time.  I learned that it was the structure of the classroom that mostly did him in (that and the fact that he needed OT for some of his issues).

We were seeing a psychologist at the time and she urged us to have him attend Kindergarten on schedule.  Her opinion was that he needed a structured environment which challenged him academically.  She also pointed out that Scott needed appropriate role models in the form of older, more in control classmates.  If the other kids were being silly or acting out, he would follow right along, but when he was with older children, he would be less inclined to do those things.  She was right on the money.  And although there have been some blips along the way, I am so glad that we didn't keep him back.  He received all S's and +'s on his current report card, even in the work habits/behavior area.

Aside from the SPD, Tommy reminds me of Scott.  You should ask for a meeting with the school, not just send a letter, to discuss his continued success.  Just like you, they want him to do well and do not want him to require some sort of discipline plan. (As an aside there has been research conducted that shows that kids who are difficult early in their academic careers do not end up trouble makers all their lives.  He is not doomed to a life of being the bad kid!).  He needs a strong teacher who will not only make the rules and following them clear, but will also challenge him academically.  Also, if he can be tested for an enrichment (gifted) type of program, you may want to consider it.

The right teacher is very important, as is the structure of the classroom.  I would suggest that the teacher find stuff for Tommy to do to keep him busy.  He is calling out because he is bored and the work is too easy.  He is looking for attention.  That is what I think.  He will also be a superstar when he is given the opportunity to shine.  (Of course he already is, but you know what I mean).

Day Care

You asked how people handle issues they might have at their day care center.  I am going to offer the other side, the administrator perspective.

First and foremost, treat everyone at the day care center as well as you would your coworkers.  I know this sounds like common sense, but all too often, customers would talk down to the teachers and assistants as if they were no better than a teenage babysitter.  These people are taking care of your children, treat them kindly, show them respect, act appreciative. 

This goes for the administration as well.  Pay on time.  Don't show up late (and if you do, apologize profusely and pay whatever fee is applicable).  Day care centers spell out all their rules ahead of time.  You are not going to change them.  If you don't like them, you can say so, but don't expect the center to change.  You have a choice, they do not have to accommodate you.  Owning and operating a day care is a very difficult endeavor.  Although it seems like you are paying a lot of money, there is very little to go around once the large payroll, rent, insurance and other bills are paid.  The employees do not make much money, but are expected to care for children which can often be quite trying and stressful.

That said, if you already have a relationship with the school administrators, it is fair for you to ask for specific changes, or discuss issues, just like you would at a job.  Are you going to gripe the first week of a new job?  Of course not.  But you might ask your boss for something after you've proven your track record as a good employee.  And whatever it is that you might be asking about, do it in a professional, courteous manner.  This is true for anything, but for some reason it needs to be reiterated in the world of childcare.

Also, do not gossip with the day care employees.  Do not put them in a position to either talk about another child, a teacher, or the administration.  Same as it goes at work.  Talk to a teacher first, before you go over their head, but realize that they are trying to meet everyone's demands as well as follow their boss' rules, so be reasonable.  For the most part, people who work in day cares like little kids, there are plenty of other easier and better paying jobs that they could have. 

My mother and I used to joke that there were 3 kinds of day care parents:

1.  The people who were so glad that you were taking care of their children.  They would thank us all the time saying, "better you than me" and were happy to go to work knowing that their kids were well taken care of.  They had reasonable expectations and knew that they could not control everything, but felt that overall, the arrangement was positive.  They liked that their kids were with other children, could play outside on the playground, do art projects, etc.  Their motto:  Thank god you are here.

2.  The  people who were resentful that they had to go to work when they really wanted to stay home.  They were unhappy with the cost of the tuition, thought that they weren't getting enough for their money, felt that the owners must be getting rich off of their misfortune, and wished that they could afford a nanny so that they felt more in control.  They would grunt at us when they came in and out, barely read any newsletters, and often complained.  Their motto:  I am miserable and so should every one else be.

3.  The people that were paranoid that they were ruining their children by putting them in day care and were looking all the time for some kind of breech in conduct by an employee.  They questioned every time a child or teacher moved from one class to another or a family or teacher left the school.  They hung out way too long every morning and afternoon, afraid they might miss picking up some vital information that would prove their suspicions were justified.  Their motto:  Day care is evil and not to be trusted.

Obviously, the first people were the ones who had the best experience!

Wow, that was an earful, right?!  Anyway, I am sure it will all work out with the Kindergarten/First Grade thing and I hope I was able to provide some insight into the day care world.

Keep up the great podcasts!  I look forward to them and to your blog posts each week.

Your friend and fellow mommy,

Lori at Spinning Yellow

SPD in Time Magazine

Just when you thought I might not be posting for a few days, I received my latest issue of Time Magazine in the mail and had to write something.  I had already been notified through Google Alerts about this article, but was distracted by the end of NaBloPoMo and didn't know whether it would be included in the print version of the magazine.  And here it is, in my house.

The article, titled Is This Disorder For Real? gives a basic overview of SPD and talks about a few children currently undergoing sensory based therapies.  There are quotes from Lucy Jane Miller of the STAR center and background from A. Jean Ayers (the original SPD pioneer).  There is information about current research, including the study that Scott participated in.  But the primary focus, just like the New York Times article, is on whether SPD is actually a valid disorder.

While I am thrilled that SPD is getting such high-profile media attention (Time Magazine! I have been a loyal subscriber since I was a teenager!), I am concerned at the negative slant to which it is being portrayed.

Once again, the question seems to be:  Are parents making up a problem where there isn't one?

And to that, I would like to say, simply, why on earth would someone want to label their child as having a disorder if they didn't have one?  Now I get that everyone has different sensory reactions and thresholds and I am fully supportive or the idea that having these differences does not necessarily mean that there is something wrong with you.  But.  BUT.  I think, if you interviewed every parent who has a child that has been "diagnosed" (in quotes because it is not official, DSM-V certified) with SPD, they will tell you some story of serious issues their child has had.

Not simply that their child won't eat broccoli or doesn't like tags in their clothing.  But issues that impact them and their family.  Things that do not fit into any other category.  People who have no other explanation for why their child is suffering so.

Remember when nobody believed in ADHD?  Remember when the idea of a child having Autism was limited to the Rain Main version?  Times change, information is available and views need to be altered. 

I would like all teachers and professionals that work with children to be educated on SPD.  To learn how sensory strategies can help them to provide a better environment.  For all children.

Most people assume that if Scott is riled up that he needs to just run around and blow off steam.  But that often makes him even more out-of-control.  Until I understood his need for proprioceptive input I would have agreed.  Now we make sure the activity includes lots of heavy work or even go the opposite way and sit close on the sofa, wrapping him up in a blanket, giving him something to chew on to calm him down and ground him.  This is one example of how much our perspective has changed since learning about SPD.

Yes, I'd like SPD to be included in the DSM-V.  I also think that understanding how our senses impact us can help anyone.  It is like the Myers-Briggs personality study.  If you are aware of your personality type and that other people have a different perspective, it makes you better equipped to work with everyone. 

I wish that the article was more comprehensive.  I appreciate the side bar "Making Sense of Your Senses" that gives four different types of sensory profiles (like the Myers-Briggs thing).  But I am concerned that people won't realize how serious of an issue this can be.  Sure, you may "laugh about your husband only wanting to wear one brand of socks", but will you be giggling when your toddler screams bloody murder every time they go outside in the sun?  Or how about your child who cannot tolerate having their teeth brushed?  Or the four-year old who tackles everyone and gets kicked out of preschool, is labeled a "bad seed", and subsequently develops into a troubled, suicidal teenager?

I am formulating my letter to the editor right now.  Any thoughts on what I should say?

If Only We Had Religion

** I am going back into my draft posts again and decided to go ahead and publish this one, written back in May.  I do now own this book, but haven't read it yet.  I am not sure this post flows very well, but I am going to put it out there anyway.  Deadlines make your perfectionist side take a back seat!

I saw other bloggers commenting on this new book called Parenting Beyond Belief and then listened to the Motherhood Uncensored podcast about it.  This is right up my alley and I am happy to have a blog where I can add my thoughts to the discussion.

Matt and I bring to our family a super complicated religious background (more about our personal story and feelings on religion another time).  We decided (probably on our first date) that we would not be raising our children with an organized religion.  I knew he had been raised Jewish but did not practice it in any way, nor did he feel that he wanted his kids to.  He was happy to adopt the Christian holidays that I grew up with even when we get all crazy at Christmas.  But we (Matt and I) don't do any religion.  No church, no synagogue, none of it.

When we got married, we picked the "No God" version for our ceremony.  Not even the "God Lite" version (as the wonderful wedding officiator called it).  But we still wanted to have tradition and we were able to draw from many different areas for that.  I was clear as can be on this topic.  I knew how I felt about God, Jesus and Organized Religion.  I could explain it to my children and they could make their own decisions.  We would celebrate holidays like I had growing up and help other family members celebrate their holidays in what ever way they wanted.  I love holidays and traditions and still wanted to be able to have that, just without the religion.  The "No God" version.  I would definitely call myself a secular parent.

I dated a few guys who claimed that religion wasn't important to them.  Once we got more serious, it was clear that they were not being honest with themselves or me.  One guy in particular had told me that he wanted his kids to be raised Catholic even if he wasn't going to practice himself.  I told my coworkers this was a deal breaker for me and that I knew the relationship would be ending soon.  More than one person commented that I was wrong.  What's the big deal, they said, you don't have to believe in the religion in order to raise your kids in it.  If it is critical to the guy, they thought I should just go along with it.  I wondered why my non-faith stance was considered to be invalid.  Why couldn't my feelings against religion be just as important as someone's feelings for it?

Most of my friends and family do practice a particular religion.  So the inevitable questions about why they go to church or celebrate a different holiday come up.  Last Christmas, my 12 year old nephew, whose family is very involved in the same church that I attended as a youth, asked how we could celebrate if we didn't believe in Jesus as the savior.  Hmmm.  I tried not to be smart and say, well, you put up a tree, make cookies and buy presents.  That's how.  He has a point.  From the perspective of those that are religious I see how it is offensive to hijack their holiday and only acknowledge parts of it.  The flip side of that is that the very people who get mad about the de-Christing of Christmas also will say, what's wrong with pledging allegiance to the flag with under God in it?   Who wouldn't want our nation to be protected by God?  As in, see it my way but I don't have to see it your way. 

This attitude confounds me.  People seem to have a hard time realizing that not everyone believes in God at all, let alone their particular take on him. 

Because religion and tradition and culture are all intertwined.  So another idea that is supposed to be presented in the book is that in order to be an informed, intellectual person, you must understand religion and the place it has held in history.  I was fascinated by my Religious Studies class in college.

I grew up participating heavily in my church's youth group.  I had many really fun times there.  I loved feeling like I fit in.  I taught Sunday School, attended youth group, went on the big beach retreat (where we did plenty of non-church related activities like kiss boys and drink liquor).  I liked this fun and safe community and am hoping for something similar for my children.  But I don't want to be a hypocrite and have it be in a setting where I don't believe in the central message.

The preschools in our area are mostly religiously based.  Housed in churches or the synagogue.  When I started looking for a preschool for Scott I was surprised to find this out.  The public school is so non-religious, it is almost ridiculous.  You can't talk about any religious holidays.  But preschool, you better be ready for praying and big-time holiday celebrating.  Since my parents had owned a day care I was well aware of the issues of trying to appease everyone on this topic.  Customers were always complaining that either they didn't want Santa Clause coming to the holiday party or that we didn't sing any songs about Jesus in the holiday show.  One time a Jewish boy told his whole 3 year year old class that Santa Claus isn't real.  You can imagine the irate phone calls my parents received after that incident. 

I set out looking for a non-religious school for Scott.  Many people didn't understand why I was adamant about this.  Why would good Christian values and saying a little prayer be bad for your kid?  Once again I was confronted with the idea that my desire for non-religion was not as important as the concept of having religion in your child's life.  I didn't think the values that these schools taught were offensive, I just didn't want my child seeing the world through their belief system.  It felt like the preschool was a recruiting ground for future congregation members instead of simply a place for my child to learn.  The undercurrent of their religion was present whether it appeared obvious or not.  I do not fault those people who do not have a problem with this.  You can send your child to the Methodist or Baptist preschool if you want, but make no mistake about it, the kids are getting a message about religion.  If you are OK with this, no worries.

I have not read this book but I am looking forward to doing so.  I am particularly intrigued by the idea of teaching your children to be critical thinkers and also to be tolerant and respectful of other people's beliefs.  I love when Scott says "The commercial is just trying to get you to buy that."  Or, "Just because it has Pokemon on it, doesn't mean it tastes better."  Hurray!  My kid is looking past the false hype.  But I don't want him to say, "You're dumb because you believe in heaven and that's not real."  That is insulting.

We talk a lot about heaven and death around here.  Actually, Scott is obsessed with both topics.  Back when we were seeing the Parenting Consultant she told us to be honest about what we thought and then ask him what he thought.  As in, "Mommy, is there a heaven, and if so, what is it?"  "I'm not sure, sweetie, nobody really knows.  Heaven is probably whatever you want it to be.  What do you think?"  This is a pretty good tactic, although Scott will still grill us as to what, exactly, we think and what, exactly, everyone else he knows thinks.

At a family meal, about a year ago, my father-in-law said something about his mother being dead.  Scott matter-of-factly said, "and now she's turned into dirt in the ground".  My poor father-in-law looked so taken aback.  Of course Scott meant no harm in what he was saying, he was just reporting what he knew. 

I told this story to one of my friends and she joked that it is too bad we aren't religious since you can answer tricky questions with "Because God made it that way" or "They're in Heaven now" which are much more socially acceptable for a 5 year old to say.  Another friend also said that she realized that she had to come up with more scientific explanations for things like why the flowers are green since she had always been saying "because God made them that way".  This patent answer also comes in handy when your child asks about where babies come from.

None of that for us around here.  And I am OK with that.  I want my kids to ask deep questions and think about what may or may not be true.  Well, maybe not about sex, but I guess I have to get over that!

One time when a neighbor was over, he was making words with the refrigerator magnets.  I heard the boy say, I'm going to spell God.  Knowing that a few letters were missing, I said, "we don't have the letters for that word".  "OK," he said, "I'll spell Jesus instead".  Scott started laughing and chimed in, "what other bad words can we spell?"  I burst out laughing realizing that Scott thought Jesus was a bad word, as in "Jesus!  I burnt my hand!" 

Then I wondered what this boy would tell his parents about his heathen neighbors.

When I was growing up, we were not encouraged to disagree with my parents.  In fact, doing that could get you in a lot of trouble.  We also did not have political or other discourse at our dinner table.  I'm sure we talked about our day, what we did and stuff like that, but as for opinions, I don't remember voicing any.  I am hoping that my children will learn how to have and express their own thoughts.

I also want them to be mindful of when and where it is appropriate to voice those opinions.  To realize that not everyone sees things the same way.  And that understanding these things will make them more tolerant of differences and better able to appreciate life and all its complexities.

Smarty McSmarty Pants

Just in case you thought things were all perfect here after my last post about the conference, I can assure you that they are not.  This whole no school this week thing is a killer.  And we were supposed to go to OT and I had to cancel, again, because I couldn't make it there on time.  Scott is wound up like a top and reeking havoc with friends that are visiting, his best (only) friend, and his sister.  Not to mention his parents and in particular, his father, who is trying to work from home now.

So, since I seem to be always talking about how smart Scott is, I thought it couldn't have been more appropriate to receive this article via a Google Alert I have set up for Sensory Processing Disorder (a cool service you can set up for anything you like to watch, like your blog name, or even your own name).  When I saw the author was Penelope Trunk, I knew I recognized her name.  It took me a few minutes to remember that she was one of the speakers at the BlogHer 2007 conference. 

Although people will say they want kids who are happy, I know that they often think, well, and smart and athletic, too.  The thing with Scott is that he is intelligent and he's also great at sports.  But.  That doesn't change the fact that he can't have a simple playdate, at age six, and still not have a problem.  And that when several kids come over to our house he gets so wound up he ends up hurting people.  Or that he is pissing off his classmates at school with his behavior.

Social skills do matter, even more than intelligence.  I couldn't agree more with Penelope.  You can't just get by on being Smarty McSmarty Pants.  You need to get along with people, too.  And getting other parents to see the benefit in improving these skills as well as teaching our children academics is vitally important for everyone.

Tell Me Something I Don't Know

Today was our first parent teacher conference for Scott this school year.  Matt and I went together.  After receiving Scott's report card last Friday, I did not have high hopes for this meeting.  He was given many pluses for academic work and several "needs improvements" under the Work Habits section.  The comment at the end said: 

Scott is a bright child.  He is always ready to take part in a class discussion or to share a strategy.  Scott tends to call out or talk with peers at inappropriate times.  He needs to work on controlling his behavior.

No insights there.  I could have written this report card back in September.

But, I was pleasantly surprised.  It went better than I had thought it would due, I am sure, partly to the fact that Matt was there. 

Lately, several things have happened where Matt has been amazed at how differently he is treated from me.  At the post office, I was chided for using a wine box and not crossing out all the wording.  Matt, who mails things quite a bit, said they would have never given him a hard time, and I believe him.  The pizza delivery guy called me and all annoyed said, "we don't usually deliver to your town, but I guess I have to since we already made your food."  Huh?  They've delivered to us before.  Once again, Matt kind of laughed noting that it must be a woman thing.  Because he gets more respect.  I think this is true and it really burns me up when it comes to the kids.  This might have also been a factor with the dentist experience.  Mom's are seen as being over-protective and emotional while men are treated as if they are smarter, more objective and therefore, worthy of respect.

Matt jumped in right away and asked about the reading section of the report card.  There were pluses in all areas except "Reads, Analyzes, Interprets Literature."  The teacher explained that the mark was based on Scott's ability to do those things within his reading level which is higher than the other children in the class.  Have I explained this yet?  Scott's class is split into 3 reading groups according to ability.  Since Scott and another boy read at a higher level than the best group, they actually read separately from the regular class with an aid.  She assured us that Scott is quite skilled in this area and had it been based on the usually reading material he'd ace it.  Good question, honey.  How were we supposed to know that?

After that clarification, Matt cut right to the chase about the behavior issues.  He explained a little bit about the sensory processing issues and she told us some specific things that were happening in the room.  Which gave me an opportunity to make suggestions:

Put him against the wall during circle time so he can touch it instead of his classmates.

Don't let him pack up his stuff at the same time as the other kids because he gets overwhelmed and starts pushing and shoving.

Make up a diagram or list for where his stuff should go in his desk so that he can stay more organized.

Don't give him a ball unless you expect it to be thrown.

Challenge him and keep him busy. 

Don't give him too many choices, he has trouble making decisions.

He treats everything like a competition so use it to your advantage.

I could have gone on and on, but you are only allowed 15 minutes and she was already running behind.  Maybe I will write some things up and e-mail them, now that the dialog has been opened.

She seemed genuinely interested in seeking our input and trying out our suggestions.  She said that she knows his physical behavior is not malicious in intent.  She does not view him as aggressive.  And she said he does not stand out as a behavior problem it is just that she sees these incidents as impacting his peer relationships.  We are well aware of that.

And his writing.  I just can't get over the improvement!  From the beginning of September to now, he uses spaces and can keep his letters in the lines.  It is unbelievable.  I guess it just clicked.  Now that he doesn't have to think so much about forming the letters.  This is the one academic area where I thought he'd get a "needs improvement" but she said he is doing fine.

We also discussed the gifted program and she agreed that he'd be a good candidate for testing.  She informed us that the test for the first graders is harder than the test for the second graders (when children are typically evaluated).  But she said that is primarily in the math part which he should have no problem with.  She said she thought he'd really enjoy the program, which he would start next year, if he gets in.

All around, pretty positive. 

Now if only I could get Matt to come everywhere with me!

The Dentist, From One Generation to the Next

I took Scott to the dentist for the first time when he was two and a half.  It was a complimentary visit (free of charge) intended to introduce him to the experience and, basically, woo him.  I took him when my sister was going with her two boys, to even make it seem more fun.  There are video games there and prizes and balloons.  This is a well respected, popular children's dentist in our town.  He travels to the area schools and preschools to teach dental health.   He even races in triathlons, like Matt, so they know each other personally.

I didn't know what to expect exactly, because I hadn't been to a children's dentist for a long time.  But Scott was leery of all doctor type places and getting his haircut and, well, anything involving invading his personal space (at this time I thought all toddlers were this way).  He screamed and cried in terror while I sat with him and they counted his teeth.

At 6 month intervals we went back, but he never seemed to get used to it.  They told me he'd adjust and I believed them.  I stayed positive.  Two years later, when he was four and a half and we had finally learned about the SPD, I started to understand what it must feel like for him to go to the dentist.

I knew that I didn't like the dentist.  Never had.  But I guess I just figured that's how all people felt.  I mean I'd almost rather go to the gynecologist than get my teeth cleaned.  Almost.  I have a pretty strong gag reflex and now understand how my own sensory issues make this experience even worse.

When I was around 10 years old, I had to get two teeth pulled to make room in my mouth for the grown-up teeth that were crowded.  My parents took all of us (my older siblings and me) to the same regular dentist who treated both kids and adults.  I was scared to get my teeth pulled but was told repeatedly that it wouldn't hurt.  While there, the dentist kept checking with me, "does this hurt?"

As I remember it, at one point, I answered, "yes, it does hurt."  They told me it couldn't possibly hurt because they had given me a lot of Novocaine.  But in my mind, or for real, I thought I could feel something that to me qualified as "hurting".  They kept trying to convince me otherwise.

I was not a difficult child in general and my parents were pretty strict so I followed the rules.  But certain things, especially when I felt scared or not listened to, pushed me over the edge.  I clamped my mouth shut and refused to let them pull my tooth.

The dentist finally gave up and sent me home.  To say my parents were furious would be a huge understatement.  I was in enormous trouble.  The yelled at me and told me they couldn't believe they had to take me to a "high priced" children's dentist for babies.  They didn't have to do this with either of my older siblings.  I was labeled a brat.  As an aside, they still like to bring this up when trying to prove how over-sensitive, particular and stubborn I could (and can) be.

Since that time, I have had lots of dental work done.  Cavities filled, braces, root canal, caps and veneers, on and on.  I've never liked it, but I have learned to tolerate it.  And as an adult you are taken seriously if you say something bothers you so I feel in control, at least more than I did as a child.

In fact the gal that has been cleaning my teeth for the last ten years has joked that a good dentist learns to treat the children like adults and the adults like children.  So true.

As I understood how Scott's SPD affected him, I also became aware of how being told that what you feel isn't correct can lead to low self-esteem.  The following is an excerpt from an e-mail I sent Scott's OT a year ago after his five and a half year old dentist visit.  Jane came along for that same complimentary visit because she was two and a half:

Just another note:  We went to the dentist last week and I was really dreading the whole thing.  In the past this has been a real disaster for Scott.  Scott went back alone for the first time and then when I went to check on him he was uncomfortable, but not upset.  Jane, on the other hand was perfectly happy.  She liked the chair and all the gadgets and even when the water went down her throat she just coughed a little and was fine.  She was pleased to get the stickers and balloon.  What struck me was how much positive reinforcement Jane received, as in "wow, what a good job your doing, your such a big girl, oh you like stickers, so do I, blah, blah".  Not to take anything away from Jane's good behavior, but really it wasn't that she was actively trying to be good, it's just that the whole thing doesn't bother her (she just got a flu shot and didn't even cry).  However, Scott was told "it doesn't hurt, why are you upset?  Look how much fun your sister is having?  Oh you don't like the ride in the chair, why not?  Well you get a sticker at the end, isn't that good?"  It was so obvious to me how unfair it was that Scott was being treated like his feelings were "wrong" because it is an experience he doesn't like.  From the people sticking things in his mouth, to the weird tastes, to the loud noises, bright lights, awkward chair, paper towel around his neck, etc.   I guess what I really noticed was how people just think that he needed to be convinced that it was OK, instead of respecting his feelings and not making him feel like he's wrong or bad to have them (as in, "I know you don't like this, but I will try to get it done fast, is there anything we can do to make it easier?").  As soon as we left, I gave him the biggest hug and said "I know that was really hard for you, I don't like a lot of things about the dentist either, but you knew it was something you had to do and I'll bet you're relieved it's over".  I was so proud of him for getting through it.  All I had to do was look at Jane and say "wow, a sticker, lucky you!"

This is similar to how people ask you, after you've had a baby, whether the baby is "good".  As if the baby can willfully decide to be cooperative or not.  I am going to cry and stay up all night and drive my parents crazy.  Of course this isn't true, but there is an assumption, even from birth, that children are either good (easygoing, flexible, fun, happy) or bad (particular, difficult, grumpy).

I took Scott to get his cavity filled on Tuesday morning.  He had resigned himself to going and was not complaining.  Until it was time for him to go back.  He tried to get out of it and started to cry while I insisted he go.  I was happy to see the the woman who would be assisting the dentist was the one hygienist that I had discussed Scott's sensory issues with before.  Her daughter has some similar problems and I figured she would be understanding.  "Remember, he's sensitive, please tell him everything," were my parting words.

I understand and respect why they didn't want me to go into the procedure room.  When I worked at my parent's day care we would suggest that parents not spend too much time with their children while dropping off.  I saw first hand that children with parents who said goodbye and acted like their child would be fine, safe and happy, and then left without much fanfare, were quicker to adjust to the school day.  If a parent lingered, the child would continue to fuss and inevitably get more upset.

While I waited, I tried to distract myself with magazines but couldn't help overhearing a family talking next to me.  There was a mother, a grandmother, and two school-age children.  The one girl said, "I don't like the dentist," then the other girl said, "me neither, it smells and they stick things in your mouth."  "Get used to it.  No one likes the dentist," the grandmother grumbled.  Why are people so unsympathetic to kids, I wondered.

I felt like I had been waiting for awhile and went to the receptionist counter to ask how it was going.  "It's fine, they'll let you know."  I was dismissed.

Ten minutes later the hygienist came out.  She said he was done and picking out his prizes.  Then she sat down and said, "He's a really anxious child.  It took us awhile to calm him down and get him to cooperate.  If I had known, I would have suggested that we give him the laughing gas, you know, to take the edge off.  But I didn't realize until it was too late.  But he's okay now, we didn't even have to numb him."

Wait a minute.  She was telling me he's anxious?  And that she didn't realize he was?  I tried to talk with them beforehand about my concerns but was brushed off.  They saw me as a mom who was worried that they would hurt my kid.  That wasn't my issue.  I knew they wouldn't harm him or intentionally cause him pain.  But I also knew that the experience was going to be difficult for him.  I tried to get them to see that and they didn't listen.  I was stunned.

Then I saw Scott and could tell that he had been crying.  I tried to stay level headed and gave him a hug.  He said it didn't hurt but that his mouth felt weird.  The dentist came out and said that he could tell Scott wanted to avoid the whole thing but then finally decided he had no choice and went along.  After that, it was all fine.  He told Scott he was brave and told him to say hi to his dad.

When we got in the car, I asked Scott again if he was alright and he assured me that it did not hurt.  We talked about how relieved he was that it was over and how he was glad he didn't have to return for six months (unless he knocks his teeth out or something).  I fought back tears as I dropped him off at school and told him I was proud of him and we would discuss what he wanted as a present later.

Back in my car, I cried for him.  I felt like I had failed him for not making the dentist personnel understand beforehand.  Should I have pressed more?  Should I have taken him to a different dentist, one that works with kids with special needs?  Or should I just move on knowing that in the end it all worked out?  He survived and can be proud of himself that he did it.

When I had talked with the hygienist before, she had suggested I not tell him much, "it is better if you don't get your child worried by talking about needles and such."  Well, I'm not that stupid.  But there is a difference between creating an anxiety and managing one that already exists.  I have a friend who told me her eight year old hates to fly.  I asked why and she said she had no idea.  Then she confided that she is terrified of flying.  It seems obvious that she instilled her fear into her child.  Children are perceptive that way, sensing when a parent is concerned even if they don't admit it. 

I wanted to prepare him for what was going to happen but I couldn't.  Because I didn't know everything.  And this, it seems, is the lesson for this experience.  I can't always help him.   Fix it up.  Make it easier.

Later that day he told me bits and pieces of what happened.  They had to hold him down.  He was supposed to spit and swallowed by mistake at one point.  They asked him what he dressed up as for Halloween and guessed correctly, Batman.  "But they didn't really care, mom, they were just trying to distract me."  I remembered what my hygienist had said about treating the children like adults and thought, they probably should have explained, in detail, about what teeth are made out of and how they grow and given him a biology lessen.  That would have fascinated and distracted him.

He surprised my by saying that it was about 3/4 not as bad as he thought.  And that he wanted a video game, or maybe a book on animals or Star Wars legos.  I told him we'd find something this weekend.

Then he proceeded to fall apart about something unrelated.  He was tired and overwhelmed. 

So was I.  But we both survived.

Updates

Several unrelated things that are going on:

Too close for comfort

Matt is starting his job at the new company tomorrow.  Although he will be traveling more, we do not need to move.  The upside (or downside) is that when he isn't out and about, he will be working from a home office.  Our house did not come with such a room so we have been fashioning one up this past week. 

First it was going to be downstairs in what is technically our living room but is currently used as an office/study.  It does not have a door and upon further investigation it proved to be too difficult to put one on it so the office has to go upstairs in the fourth bedroom.  Since we don't need this room for a baby anymore it does make sense.  It had been used as a playroom which was very convenient as the room opens up into our master bedroom and we could keep an eye on the kids while we got ready in the mornings.

I was sort of hoping this room would eventually become my writing and relaxing retreat.  No more. 

So Matt will be around more during the day which is great, really, except that we are supposed to pretend he is NOT actually there so that he can work.  I might be able to do this pretty well but I have a hunch that he won't be able to pretend he doesn't notice what I am, or am not, doing during the day.

Like if I am not dressed yet at 3pm.  Or I spend a good portion of the day on my computer and then have no proper dinner prepared.  Or if a friend calls and I talk instead of cleaning or some other purposeful, housewife type of activity.

I might need to get a job outside the home in order to save our marriage.

Tying up lose ends

I am pretty sure I forgot to say here that Scott learned how to tie his shoes.  I know this can be a rather difficult thing for a lot of children to master, so I really didn't even expect him to do it for awhile.  But those OTs, they are so good.  They kept him at it and worked on it step by step until it finally became routine.  About 6 months ago I tried to help him and couldn't even get him to make the first twisty-turny-put-one-lace-over-the-other part.  So I would say the credit goes to the OTs, but that's not fair to Scott who stuck with it even though it was pretty hard.  Now he ties his shoes every morning, but still asks for help at school when he is under pressure!

Fed up and fired up

I do not know who I am more mad at about the Aquadots situation, the manufacturer of the toy or myself.  When I brought these home for Jane as a congratulations-you-mastered-the-potty gift, Matt casually wondered what exactly were in those things to make them stick together.  I dismissed his comment because, well, I am a too-trusting idiot.  I prefer to believe that if a company makes a toy, it must be safe and if they market it in such a way that every kid in America wants it, well it is for sure, without a doubt, going to be cool and perfectly fine.

Moothergoosemouse said it better than I could in this post.

The Aquadots scandal came right on the heels of receiving this information from Jordan at The Wonderwheel, which Kristen at FromHereToThereAndBack wrote about here.

I am pissed, outraged, mad as hell and sick to my stomach.  My daughter had already been playing with the damn dots!  And we use that Johnson's Baby Wash every single day!  And it is everything else, too.

The preservatives in food and the pesticides and the chemicals on the lawn and in the plastic cups and plates we use and the cleaning products and the laundry soap and the hand soap and the pressed wood that our deck is made out of and the playground equipment and the waves from the cell phones and the stuff that is in immunizations and just about everything.  Everything. Damn.

So I typically choose to pretend things are OK.  But this time I am so seething mad and it is not just that I had bought multiple packages for birthday presents, it is that I feel that it is my own damn fault for not doing what I should have and refused to believe that this crap is safe.

Please no, not a cavity

Scott hates the dentist (another post in the making about the sensory nightmare that is at the dentist), but has learned to tolerate the twice a year trip.  Last week, as we were just about to leave the office and I was feeling so happy that it had gone well, the hygienist pulled me aside and told me Scott has a small cavity in one of his molars.  I calmly listened to what she was telling me while I silently screamed inside.  "We will take care of him, it won't hurt at all, I promise," she said.  I knew that.  What she didn't know was that Scott was going to freak out.

I waited until he came home from school to explain the situation.  He pitched a big fit.  Not only is he mad that he has to go in there again before his 6 month reprieve but he also feels that he it is his fault that he got the cavity.  "I didn't brush enough!  Daddy never had a cavity!  It's not fair!  I hate myself!" 

No amount of explaining will get him to stop blaming himself.  And I am annoyed that the hygienist didn't listen to my concerns about the unknowns for Scott.  What will the numbing gel taste like?  Will I hear anything scary?  How long will I have to sit there with my mouth open feeling like I am going to gag?  They don't get it either.  I know they won't hurt him, but he is anxious about more than the pain.

I will be calling tomorrow to discuss it with them again before our Tuesday appointment.  And I am going to get him a gift afterward, like another Wii remote.  Yep, you heard me right, I am going to get my kid a present for having a cavity.  Because I hate the dentist, too, and I want him to know that I understand how scary and uncomfortable it can be and that I am proud of him for dealing with it.  I am certain that buying him something will not encourage him to get another cavity. 

I'll let him decide what he wants, within reason, as long as it isn't Aquadots.

 

** Thanks again for all your kind words and thoughts about my miscarriage.  Today was much better than yesterday so I should be over the worst of it and able to move on.  It really is adding insult to injury to find out you are not going to have a baby and then to have to suffer the physical fall out.

The Meaning Of Things

I've been a little MIA.  Not just with writing here but also with reading and commenting on other people's blogs.  You've heard all my excuses before and now is probably no different, really.  But I hate not being able to write more in general.  I am way behind, owing posts not only to myself but to other bloggers who were kind enough to tag me for a meme or ask me questions.  I need to become a more disciplined blogger.  To carve out time daily to devote to writing. 

This is a new goal for me.  But as soon as I say that, I find myself hedging.  OK, I'll start next week I think, after I am done with this scheduling quirk that has me hosting a playgroup, card club and book group all this month.  Or maybe after I feel less tired, once I hit a stride in the second trimester.  Like a dieter who keeps promising to start on Monday right after the weekend partying.

Why do I do this?  Why am I such a procrastinator?  I love blogging.  If you enjoy something then it should be easy to find time for it, right.  Nope.  Not that simple.  There is the guilt that I am spending time on a hobby, one that either replaces a proper job that I should have to contribute to our family income.  Or takes time away from my primary duties of parenting and keeping the house in order. 

The big problem is that I have too many ideas and they are too large.  I always want to tackle the deep questions and complicated posts so that I can never just finish one thing.  This has been a serious character flaw of mine for as long as I can remember.  I have to actively fight against it. 

So here I am.

When things happen in life we often hear the axiom:  Things happen for a reason.  This has a religious connotation as if a creator is over our heads orchestrating our lives.  A puppeteer deciding each person's fate.  Even when I went through my religious phase as a teenager, I always had a problem with this idea.  Why would a supreme being make a child ill with cancer?  Or cause one baseball team to beat another?  It never made sense.

As I have grown older and abandoned most religious notions, I still ponder this question.  Recently I have come to realize that what I believe is not that there is a reason for why things happen, but that instead, you can find reasons and meanings in things that happen.

I think I first became aware of this way of thinking when I read The Road Less Traveled back in my early 20's.  I was quite taken by this book.  The theory that we create our own destiny, that life is hard and must be lived in a very self-aware way in order to truly live fully.  I think back to this book when I hear Oprah say that you should have a purpose driven life.  That there are no coincidences.  Only decisions.

I believe this wholeheartedly.  This piece of The Secret.  That if you are aware and listening, you will find amazing connections and meaning in what you come across.  Maybe this sounds a little too new age-y.  But it works for me.  It is my version of religion.  This kind of spiritual connectedness that drives you to certain people and events and decisions.  If you want something or to become something different, be mindful of your choices and the influences in your life.

Today I finished our current book group selection, Name All the Animals.  This is a book I stumbled across a while ago and had suggested a few times before it was eventually chosen.  I wasn't sure if it would be any good, but I found myself absorbed in the story of the younger sister who's only sibling, her eighteen year old brother, had died suddenly in a horrific car accident.

I keep thinking about siblings and how they impact each other.  I wrote about this before when I was trying to come to a decision about whether to have another child.  Interestingly, the cover story of this week's Time Magazine is about birth order.  How the oldest siblings tend to be the most successful and the youngest are more risky and innovative.

I find this kind of thing fascinating.  I am drawn to family dynamics, psychology and sociology.

But aside from that, I can't help but notice how I was reading this powerful book at the same time that I came across the article and also heard on a podcast more about the study that says older boys are smarter than their later born siblings.

I find meaning and significance in everything.  I want to tie together ideas and things I've read and current events.  Almost everything I take in, I can then connect to something else and I start forming the flow of the words in my head.  Weaving it all together, fitting the pieces in place.

So this, in and of itself, also has meaning.  That I am supposed to do this.  To write.  To share my crazy, interconnected thoughts.  To attempt to make sense of all the seemingly disjointed things.  Maybe it isn't always timely or pretty, but it is full and complex.

And you are all meant to read it and contribute and make it even more interesting and relevant.

The Reality of School

Today was the start of Parent Observation Week at Scott's school.  While Jane played at her good friend Annie's house, I went in to see what the hell goes on Scott does while he is at school.  I am not sure if it was particularly eye-opening, but I did gain a little bit of insight.

I arrived while the class was sitting on the rug in the back of the room doing some kind of share-something-about-your weekend activity.  I watched as the teacher called on each child who had their hand raised and listened intently to what they had to say.  She was fully engaged and interested in each child.  She asked them questions and spoke kindly to the child if they were upset about something (my soccer team lost!  I hurt my foot!).  She told the children that they did not have to share if they did not want to and also reminded them that it was perfectly fine to say, "I just hung out at my house with my family."  There was no requirement to one-up each other as kids this age tend to do.

I was happy that I arrived in time to hear Scott tell her about his weekend.  How his Aunt and Uncle from California visited with his two cousins.  The teacher said, oh that must have been special, I bet you don't get to see them a lot.  And she was absolutely right.  In fact, Scott had been crying ever since they left the night before.  He was so sad that he will not see them again for awhile.

I liked that each child was given an opportunity to share and that the kids seemed genuinely interested in listening to their peers.  I could sense that the group of children cared about each other.  This is important for Scott, who does not have many friends and often feels uncomfortable with kids his own age.

Next up was a looonng math activity.  It started with the kids sitting at their desks while the teacher told them what materials to take out (their white board, easer, markers, coins, and math box).  I'd estimate that 50% of the class was able to do this without any trouble.  The other half of the class had one issue or another to a varying degree.  They couldn't find the stuff or they couldn't arrange the necessary items on top of their desk.  The teacher reminded them that they could ask to borrow something or they could look around the room to find what they needed, but they had to be ready quickly.  I felt Scott's anxiety as the activity started and he still hadn't gotten his things in order.

It was all I could do to sit quietly in my seat and not get up and help him.

The teacher arranged a nickel and 11 pennies on an overhead projector and instructed the children to write the amount on their white boards.  Fine.  But then she had to go around the room and check each child's work, correcting as she went.  I think she is a good teacher, but as the activity went on, I felt that the pace was excruciatingly slow.  The next task was to replicate the coins that she had and then to exchange the current money for fewer coins.  The tasks were valid, but boring, and I couldn't help but wonder if the children who didn't understand were any further ahead afterward.

And it was then that the reality of school really sunk in.  I know I sort of joke about homeschooling Scott.  I have such respect and admiration for people like This Mom who do this and do it so well.  I love teaching Scott and having discussions with him about anything.  The other day we talked about the prefix "omni" and tried to come up with silly words like "omni-sports-athlete".  I know he could learn a whole lot more in the hour I was at his school if he were home and moving at a different pace.  We could also concentrate on some of the things he has trouble with, like writing, without any pressure to get it done quickly.

But where I would fail is with making him be more independent and confident in a group.

He needs to learn how to get by without me.  This is painful to realize because I feel I am sacrificing his intellectual potential for more social competence.  Am I right?  The ideal situation would be for him to attend school for 3 or 4 hours and then be able to come home or do more challenging work in a small group.  But I also wish there was a debrief of sorts about his day.  Like, if I knew about the desk problem, I could suggest he make a list of what goes on each side and in what order so that he could find the items and stay organized.  Is this too minuscule of an issue to bring up?

I started to wonder whether I should have stayed home.  I knew Scott was happy I was there, but was I?

After the math lesson came a story about the girl who was Star of the Week.  The children asked her questions and the teacher wrote up sentences on a big piece of paper behind her.   When Scott was called on, he asked a question that had already been asked.  His teacher smiled and said she got a point, making a big deal out of putting a tally mark on the board.  Apparently, this is her way of emphasizing the importance of paying attention.  Scott didn't look too bothered by it, but I felt my school issues come flooding back.  I would have hated this as a child and probably wouldn't have wanted to raise my hand for fear of messing up and letting the class down.

I had a flashback to learning times tables in fifth (I think) grade.  Our teacher would play a game called Round-the-World where two children would stand up and try to answer a flashcard with a math problem.  Whoever answered got to stay standing up and the next child would get up to challenge them.  I never stood up for more than one question.  Never.  Even if I knew the answer, I wasn't confident enough to yell it out.  When I came home in tears, my mom sat with me night after night with flashcards until I finally learned my times tables.  If she had not done this, I would have never learned them.  The teaching method in school was completely ineffective for me.

Public school has to teach to the masses.  I am sure some schools and teachers are much better than others.  A friend of mine once said, "wouldn't it be great if each child had an IEP (Individualized Education Program) and the teachers had to accommodate it."  That would be fabulous but is completely unrealistic.  You can only expect so much.

Finally, finally, the teacher said, "You've been sitting on your heinies for too long.  It's time for snack."

And with that, I said goodbye to Scott and quickly made my exit.

Left Of Center

If you want me,
You can find me
Left of center off of the strip
In the outskirts and in the fringes
In the corner, out of the grip

- Suzanne Vega with Joe Jackson from Pretty in Pink

This song keeps going through my head these days.  I often feel that I am on the outskirts, on the fringe.  I am not really a writer, yet I am a blogger.  I am a SAHM but I also understand the working mother perspective from, among other things, my time spent at my parents' day care.  This feeling of being in but not really in, of sort of hanging out on the edges, has been a running theme for most of my life.  I am used to it and, for the most part, am comfortable with this position. 

I can apply this analogy to all sorts of things:  Being smart, but not super ivy-league worthy smart; being attractive enough, but not beautiful; having enough money for the decent house, but not enough to go on Disney World vacations and such; being part of the neighborhood groups but not the leader or go-to person; being in a sorority but not the A list one; etc.

The good part about being on the outskirts is that you don't get labeled.  You aren't stuck in one place or another.  I like this because I can be friends with the cool girls and also the geeks.  Flow from one group to another.  Be involved one day and not expected to be another.  I am used to this.

Enough about me, though.  The point of this post was to explain how Scott is the one on the fringe.  He is not Autistic nor is he completely NT (neurologically typical).  He doesn't qualify for the label special needs but he does have some needs that are special.  To most people he probably appears normal (I hesitate to use that word, knowing that it is relative).  His issues are not bad enough to warrant an IEP and special instruction from school.  But.  There are still things that are there.  Things that we see that others may not, or may be interpreted differently.

Sometimes we just get used to the way things are.  We give Scott a cloth napkin and things to chew.  We listen to him talk endlessly and rub his back.  We usher him away from his sister and let him throw balls against the wall in the basement.  We hope for few changes or disruptions.  We stay mostly to ourselves.

Last week we went to Scott's original OT (who now knows about this blog and has read some of it, yikes!).  She hadn't seen him in awhile, over 6 months, and was impressed with the progress that he's made.  But she was also concerned with several things.  His inability to form letters quickly from memory.  The obvious change in his alertness from when he arrived to when he was done with the session.  His excessive throat clearing.

She e-mailed me about these concerns so as not to talk too much in front of him.  I felt badly that I hadn't been better about working on his writing and helping him to self-regulate this summer.  I do some things, but it is difficult to fit it all in, especially when he isn't exactly willing.  Sure, I had noticed his throat clearing and yeah, I think it is a sign of his anxiety, just like how he has been chewing his clothes more lately.  But he's also doing so well, weathered so many changes, been able to control his temper and mood swings better.  To anticipate what might make him anxious and to maturely realize that it is temporary or to make adjustments that help himself.

So, I guess I forget a little bit about the other stuff or choose to look around it.  Of course he's more anxious, he is about to start full day school.  I'll bet there are few kids in his situation who aren't a little out of sorts now.  Who may be acting up or overly needy.  How do I know what is expected and what is too much?

We went to see a good friend and her boys last Friday (hi tac!).  When the kids were playing together I felt slightly nervous.  I know that my friend understands Scott's issues and has had her own difficulties with her kids, but it is hard to know what will happen and how his actions will be perceived.  We do not have many play dates and also do not visit with people a lot.  Scott has problems negotiating social situations and can either get wound up and destructive or pitch fits.  I get worried that he will do something wrong and feel terrible, hurt someone or break something.  He gets so excited and is then disappointed with what happens.  It seems like more than he can handle.

The visit went pretty well.  There were times when he couldn't stop himself and lost control.  He knocked over some stuff and wouldn't eat the lunch because the wet food touched the dry.  He was upset later that he couldn't ride the scooters like the other kids could.  Maybe he could if he had more practice or maybe this is a motor planning thing that is too difficult for him.  Hard to say exactly.

I remember when I first called the Parenting Consultant about Scott's pooping issues (months before we knew about his SPD) and, after explaining the current problem, she asked me if there were any other issues we needed help with.  Well, no, nothing out of the ordinary, I said.  I mean, sure he can be difficult, but isn't that just the way kids are?  I felt that whatever trouble we might have with him was par for the course.  Kids are trying.  I could read books and consult with friends.  Why would I need anyone's professional help unless the situation were desperate?

That summer of 2005, when Scott was 4, was when I began to see that he was more than just a little difficult.  Since then I have come to view him as extremely complex.  His actions often being dictated by the way he senses and experiences the world around him.  And, maybe just as often, he's completely normal.  A bright, curious, slightly anxious, energetic, six year old boy.

He will be starting first grade in two weeks.  He will, no doubt, have some trouble adjusting.  He is concerned about being away all day, about wanting to tell me things and not being able to remember them.  About lunch time and all the unknowns.  He will be reading and doing math at at least a grade level above most of his peers.  He will not be able to write or draw as well as most of the children.  He will probably get tested for the gifted program where he might qualify.  Most likely he will be right on the edge, like his mom, who squeaked by at a 130 IQ (my parents loved to tell me this to keep my ego in check).  He is smart but not a genius like these kids.

I can drive myself crazy trying to decipher where exactly he fits in.  The right place for him is in both worlds.  Somewhere on the fringe.  Mostly OK.  Not quite all the way.  Often misunderstood.  Needing extra assistance sometimes.  Ahead of the game in other ways.  Smart and athletic while also socially immature and physically awkward.  I am sure he will be able to see that his place is in between.  Hopefully, he will learn how to move fluidly from one group to another as it suits him.  And to feel good about being a little left of center.

Just like his mom.