Spinning Yellow

A Christmas Miracle

No, not that I am actually posting, although that is a little miraculous.  I am talking about how every year, some how, some way, Matt and I transform this:

Into this:

and this:

Praise be to Starbucks, Amazon, helpful relatives, the Rudolph movie, the Wii, and cousins (who occupy my children)! 

So maybe the cards aren't all out yet and only about half of the baking got done.  I've neglected blog reading (well, I've quickly checked in, and I know who is sick and who is trying to travel, but haven't commented) and e-mail and running.  I've tried hard not to yell at the kids.  We haven't seen the gingerbread houses (a tradition).  Matt and I haven't even had our annual Christmas fight (hmmm, will it be tomorrow?). 

But this holiday season has proved to be no less joyous than it always is.  The kids made ornaments and chocolate covered pretzels.  We read our favorite stories and played with special toys that only come out at this time of the year.  We've hosted two fabulous holiday meals.  Had lots of relatives over.  Laughed and drank and stayed up late.  There will be more tomorrow.

It has been fun and relaxed.  Most of the work is done now.  I will sleep easy knowing that Scott is already happy regardless of any presents he receives because he spent two days with his favorite cousin.  Last night before bed, he hugged me and said, "Thank you so much for having everyone over mom.  This is my favorite part of Christmas."  And Jane sat on Santa's lap at school and believes him to be the real Santa even though Scott keeps trying to tell her otherwise.

May today bring joy and wonder, laughter and peace, love and fun, family and friends.  Whatever it is that you believe in, may it fill you up today with all that is good and wonderful.  For a moment, to think like a child and embrace the holiday magic.

Merry Christmas!

Can You Do This Homework?

Yesterday Scott's homework had a series of patterns to be deciphered by the child and continued to the edge of the page.  It looked like this:

There were obvious patterns like |::|::|::   Seeing how this pattern should continue is a piece of cake for Scott.  But being able to make the lines and dots in a way that shows his understanding is a completely different story.  He has learned how to write by feeling the motions he is supposed to make, not by looking at a picture and copying it.  In fact, he often writes more clearly when he isn't referring to a proper letter and just goes slowly.  Whenever he has to look at something and attempt to replicate it, he has trouble.

I didn't try this, but I am quite certain that if I asked Jane, at age 3, to copy the line and dot pattern, she'd be able to do it better than he did.  She can draw people with faces and copy simple pictures already (one of the few ways she takes after me).

I don't think it is necessarily important to be able to do this copying thing well.  But it does illustrate how crucial the OT was for him to be able to write legibly and keep up in school. 

In addition to the abstract patterns, the homework also included several letter sequences.  When Scott hears "pattern" he thinks, "repeating".  So when he saw A, b, C, d, E, f, ....  He started back at A and did the series the same way,  A - f.  I knew the answer was G, h, I, j, K, L, m..... but wasn't sure if I should correct him (I did later).

Then things got a little more complicated.  The next letter question went: a, a, z, z, b, b, y, y,  .... He got that one (after a few minutes). 

Don't skip ahead.  Try this one on your own:  a, b, a, b, c, a,   ,   ,   ,   ,   ,   ,   , e   (fill in the blank spaces).

Did it take you a few minutes?  Do you think that anything a first grader should do, especially homework that is supposed to take ten minutes, tops, should be tricky for a grown-up?  Matt said, "well maybe she was testing them, trying to see who would be able to get it".  OK, but give a heads up, because when I see homework, I expect it to be a reinforcement of what has already been learned and certainly not so difficult that a parent, one who does logic and math problems for fun, finds semi-challenging.

Maybe that was easy for you.  Here's the next one:  a, b, A, c, a, d, A,  ,   ,   ,   ,   ,   , h 
Hmmm, I see an alternating pattern.

Last one:   z, y, y, x, w, w, v,   ,   ,   ,   ,   ,   , q

To his credit, Scott did catch on by that last one, but it still took him a good 40 minutes to do this with my help.  And he didn't have a meltdown about it, hurray!

Oy!  My head hurt.

I did leave his teacher a quick note about how hard this homework was, but it is not a huge deal, just one of those things that I felt didn't seem right.

So I'm curious, how'd you do?

The Roof, the Roof, the Roof is on Fire!

Since my husband is now working from home, he can do some things during the day that he would not ordinarily.  On Thursday it looked like this outside:

 (can you see the ice on the tree?)


So he decided to make a fire.  Typically on Thursday's, I have a good chunk of the day to myself.  Jane goes to preschool and then Delilah picks her up for a playdate with Annie.  I usually run errands and, you know, do stuff without any children.  I look forward to Thursdays, especially now, during the holidays, when I am busy, busy, busy.  It is a fabulous arrangement. 

Except when Jane refuses to go to school.

Jane didn't want to go to dance class the day before, either.  Since she hadn't missed any classes and had been sick the day before, I let her stay home.  I hate to push about classes.  Maybe it was just an off day.  But the little voice inside my head said don't let her get away with it. 

Then the school thing.  I always say that you have to go to school or go to the doctor.  She screamed and cried and pitched a royal fit.  I finally gave in when she said she'd take a nap.  I figured she must still be sick and put her back in bed.

Normally she loooovves dance and school.  Can't wait to go.  I am hoping it is just some phase.  A combination of being tired, the holiday frazzles, and knowing that Daddy is home.  Lately, she is vaguely aware of time, saying, "is that this year?" when I tell her it is time to go to school.  Or announcing, "it is 17 o'clock, time for dinner!" at 8am.  When I say we have to go to dance, she thinks, when I am ready the class will be there.

I was not happy considering the long list of things I needed to do during the time she was supposed to be occupied.  But so it goes in the world of small children and mothers who think they will actually accomplish something.

As best as I could, I tried not to panic (dance costs a fortune and school is only 5 hours per week for crying-out-loud, you'd think she could go) and attempted to make the day super boring.  Constantly mentioning how she could have been at school having fun, or making a project, or whatever else I could dream up.  Maybe today they went on the stage and it was super fun.  Or it was so-and-so's birthday, I wonder what kind of treat they brought in?

I think she was on to me because she didn't bite at all.  Just asked to lie down and watch TV.

Anyway, Matt saw that she was home and decided to make the fire.  So it would be all cozy at home (he wasn't aware of my no fun plan).  In fact he asked Jane why she didn't go to school and she replied, "it's complicated."  Really.  He was stoking up the fire right around lunchtime when I heard him say, "Oh No!" 

I looked over and there were huge flames in the fireplace, the smoke detectors went off and the room filled with smoke.  Matt told me to call 911, "there's a fire in the chimney!"

I grabbed Jane and rushed over to my neighbor's house.  She has three kids and is great in any kind of crisis.  We heard sirens right away and went to the windows. 

I was glad that I was dressed when this happened, because I am often still in my pj's or a bathrobe.  I kid you not.  If my husband and I ever got divorced, number one on his rather long list of reasons why he was leaving me would be, "does not get dressed all day".

I live in a small town, one where all three fire trucks and several other emergency vehicles show up when you call.  Jane was happy to be playing with the neighbors and all the kids were watching with excitement as the trucks pulled up.  She was rehashing the events to them, "I had to get low and go, just like on Elmo Visits the Firehouse!"

I went back to our house, got the dog and put her in the neighbor's yard, then went to see how bad the situation was.  Turns out there wasn't a fire in the chimney.  It was just a back draft caused by moisture and wind and putting dry, real wood on top of an artificial log (not recommended by fire-fighters, apparently).  They tromped around a bit more and told us to move our Christmas tree back and basically that was it.  My mother showed up at some point because she was a few doors down at a cookie exchange.  "All the ladies want to know what's going on," she said as she slipped in her high heeled dress boots.

Another neighbor, a very nice older lady, was outside shoveling ice off of her walk and came over.  I met her on the driveway and explained the situation.  "Well, good thing your husband is home," she said.  I couldn't help but point out that if he hadn't been there, then there wouldn't have been a fire made at all.

Back at my neighbor's house, Jane was having a ball.  "Did you get my babies from my room?  I hope they are OK!"  she asked excitedly.  Libby, our dog, was running around inside their house, also having a grand old time.  My neighbor told me that Jane might as well stay so I could air out and clean up the house.  Her kids weren't going to school because the afternoon Kindergarten classes had been canceled.

Matt felt badly for Scott that he missed all the excitement.  But it was probably just as well.  He tends to panic.  The next night, while out for dinner in town, we heard sirens and Scott stiffened, "what's that?"  Jane said happily, "it's the police and fire trucks, just like at our house!"  Scott said, "Are we in trouble?  Are they coming for us?"  Yeah, better that he wasn't there.

My husband is embarrassed that he overreacted.  But I don't care about that.  I am only mad because this week, when Jane says she doesn't want to go to school or dance, I can't say, "Why would you want to stay home, it is so boring." 

She knows better.

Coming Out at the Bus Stop

** Title credit goes to Delilah at Floating in Space, who used this term when I told her the story.

Yesterday morning Scott was bouncing off the walls.  When I say this I mean it quite literally.  He actually slams his body into things, including furniture and walls.  He was jumping around, talking way too fast and not making a lot of sense, skipping from one idea to another.  At times like this, I feel like I am dealing with someone who just smoked a pack of cigarettes and drank a gallon of coffee.  His disorganization is frustrating and alarming.

On the way to catch the bus, he spotted the one boy, a Kindergartener, who comes to our stop, across the street.  When he got to the curb he jumped into the boy's arms giving him a signature, overpowering hug and immediately said, "You can't have gum in school!" 

The boy's mom looked surprised, "He doesn't have any gum.  He had some earlier.  How did you know?" 

"I smelled it,"  Scott said simply.

So the mom kind of looked at me quizzically and I told her that he has heightened senses, he can smell things others might not.  Inside my head I thought about times where we were out someplace and Scott yelled, "What's that smell?!"  Or how I can't sneak any food and then talk to him, "Where's the chocolate, mom?"  Or how I have to move the newspaper away from his side of the table because he can't eat with it near him.  He's like a dog who can sniff out anything out of the ordinary.

After the boys boarded the bus, I decided to tell her more.  I don't know why I did, but maybe it had to do a little with this.  I feel that I am usually trying desperately to make Scott's issues unnoticeable.  For him to fit in with everyone, even if we see things others don't.  But then there are times when I want people to understand where he is coming from.

I think it was significant that Scott noticed the boy's gum breath given his crazy state.  When he is in hyper mode like that, he does seem to be distracted by every little thing.  I explained a bit about Scott's history, about SPD, about the OT that he has received.  I knew I would get the response that I did.  A mixture of interest (I've never heard of that) and also disbelief (aren't all kids like that?  he seems fine to me). 

But I felt better saying something.  Even if it looks like I am making excuses or inventing a disorder.  I want to raise awareness.  Maybe this mom-at-the-bus-stop will see Scott a little bit differently, for good or for bad.  Or maybe she'll realize something she never knew about another child.  Maybe a niece or nephew or a friend of her son's.

Maybe it will simply be one more person who hears about SPD.  And if that is all, it is enough for me.

********************************************************

I am sorry I have been so out of touch lately.  Instead of giving all the usual excuses, you know, busy with the holidays, catching up after NaBloPoMo, husband out of town, sick kids, blah, blah, blah, I really just want to say there are two main reasons why I haven't been able to keep up:

The first is guilt.  I feel guilty for blogging.  I have so many things I should be doing that when I blog I feel self-indulgent.  It is a hobby, a creative outlet.  It is not monetarily expensive (like my husband's triathlon hobby), but it takes up a lot of time.  And time is precious right now.  I see my children growing up over-night.  And I am behind in so many things around my house, it is upsetting.

I also feel guilty not blogging.  I am so very grateful and appreciative of the support and friendship I've found here in the blogosphere.  If I don't get to read and comment and post regularly I feel like I am letting you all down, including myself.  Not keeping up my side of the relationship.  This makes me feel even more guilty.

Guilt if I do.  Guilt if I don't.

I am not sure how to reconcile those two things.

Second, I was trying desperately to finish reading my book for my Monday night book club meeting.  I hate attending book club without reading the book, even if it is not one I wanted to read.  This time, someone else had picked a book I'd tried to get selected several times, so I was not going to skip it.  And I am so happy to report that I not only finished in time, but I thoroughly enjoyed the book, Mrs. Kimble by Jennifer Haigh.

The story and characters were engaging, but what I liked most of all was the style in which she wrote.  It is a strong voice, clean sentences, no extra verbiage, but also plenty of emotion and description.  I marked several pages where I found particularly well-crafted sentences.  She explains her style in this interview, saying that:

The narrative voice of Mrs. Kimble is very much my voice; I think it comes through in all my work. I aim for precision in the sentences because that's the sort of writing I admire. I have a great respect for writers who are humble, whose language allows the reader to see the story but doesn't get in the way. Language is a window, and if the window is clean, you shouldn't be aware you're looking through glass.

My friend (hi dee!) knows the author from their small Pennsylvania town and had suggested the book awhile ago.  I was a little skeptical, thinking, who is this person who calls themselves an author, who grew up in small-town PA?  I was pleasantly mistaken.  How dare I be so judgmental just because someone knows this person?

This was a great read.  It reminded me of John Irving's, A Widow for One Year and I love John Irving (A Prayer for Owen Meany is on my top 10 books of all time list).  I highly recommend it.

Now I will publish this and hopefully start catching up on all the fabulous posts that I've missed this past week or so.

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?