Bitchy Mama: a Sunday at the homestead

Was is the sun? Barely recognizable to our drizzle addled brains.

Was it heat? True NW'ers start whining anywhere above 75 degrees.

Maybe it was just the pure freedom of a day with no "have to dos".

I was actually in a great mood. The garden thrives. The sun is shining. The birds are signing.

Yet, the kids managed to fight, argue, squabble about every little thing. Nothing was ok today.

I found myself mitigating and playing the serial facilitator all day with not many happy lasting outcomes.

Shea has gotten good at crying bloody murder whenever he doesn't get his way. I mean, really, like he has severed a limb. Jake and I come running and it's because Molly wants to climb the rope ladder even though Shea was doing something totally different, a good distance away. Or something equally eye-ball rolling.

About a dozen of those sitations and bitchy mommy comes for a stay.

I tried something different with Shea and his reluctant big boy pants issue. I took off a poopy dipe and thought ok, he is going au natural for the rest of the day.

He did not like that. Every other kid in the world would revel in the nakeness but not Shea. He misses the support or whatever. So, I told him he could wear big boy pants but he didn't like that idea either.

That is about when bitchy mommy walked away and left the whiney, pouty progidy by himself on the backporch to grump by himself. I sort of toss over my bitchy shoulder, "Ok. If you don't want to wear them, that is fine with me. See ya!"

I timed it. It took 3 more minutes of solo-grumping then he put the big boy pants on HIMSELF and trotted down to the backyard to receive my exuberant praise.

We are so pathetically behind the 8 ball as far as potty training goes so that little incident is actually a victory. I have had several open, planning discussions with Shea about how we are going to say bye-bye to dipes after school is out. We are saying hello to big boy pants for the summer. He seems skeptical.

Perspective on "special"

Not everything has changed since I was a kid.

When I was in 5th grade, the boys and the girls voluntarily sat separately during lunch time. Why? Just because.

Well, it isn't much different for my 5th grader but they are now getting pretty close to starting middle school and things start, only just a little bit at first, to look a little different between the boys and girls.

Yesterday for some unknown reason, a few boys came over to sit with Molly and the other girls. Something about getting away from a messy table or some other such excuse. They larked about, making jokes but one boy began being snarky about a 4th grade boy who was not around at the time and calling him a retard.

Molly piped right up and said, "He has autism, he is not retarded just a bit special."

The boys took that in but continued to snark, "He is so special with his specialness." Jokingly, probably not meaning real harm, maybe just intending to amateurishly flirt with the girls, just trying to get their attention in a ham handed pre-pubescent boy sort of way.

My Molly, my wonderful, intuitive, insightful, empathic big sister to Shea said, "You probably shouldn't say that kind of thing around me because my brother is special too and they can't help it."

That stopped them up short. "Is he retarded?", they soberly ask. "No." says Molly.

"Is he autistic?"

"No."

"What's wrong with him?"

"He has a real hard time speaking. He has to work really hard to make the words come out and still they sometimes sound different. He can't help it. He is special."

"How old is he?"

"Almost 5."

"Wow. That must be hard."

And, then they all moved onto other subjects with a bit more knowledge and hopefully a little bit more compassion.

There are times where I would give absolutely anything to be a fly on the wall or an ant on the lunch table. This was one of the those times.

Playground angst

And, so it begins... I know it's rough out there. I remember it myself. Kids just know instinctively how to press those buttons. And, making fun of your little brother would naturally be a hot spot for Molly.

Yesterday, one of her little friends or classmates called Shea a "retard". She was being baited. Who knows what the surrounding conversation and/or antics were like. Perhaps Molly was spinning pretty fast and needed to be taken down a notch or two. It probably doesn't matter that much. The fact is that she trembled with rage at the obvious cruelty. She struck out and hit the girl with her coat. Well, I expect they got the reaction that they were seeking; anger. Sometimes Molly seems unflappable and I expect they were just trying to get a rise. Well, they did.

We talked it all though last night, of course. Shea has a speech delay and is learning to talk. There is no evidence of retardation at this time. Molly knows this but it doesn't really matter. Perhaps they weren't factually correct but Shea is "special" and someone was making fun of him for something he or we have no control over.

Fierce loyalties will always create a chink in our armor. People instinctively know this, even children. But, would I have it any other way?

I remember when I was quite small, 1st grade or so, my father told me to always stick up for my little brother. I must've listened or maybe it's hardwired because one day I caught wind of him being picked on by bigger boys on the playground. I charged right out there to protect my little brother (a kindergartner) and got into a scuffle and popped the boy in the nose.

Blood, the principals office; the whole 9 yards. I remember it vividly, the principal asking why I hit the boy. "Because my dad told me to protect my little brother." I replied and can still see the bemused expression on the adult's face. I didn't really get in trouble that day. I knew I was justified.

This is a tough one and it will come up again. It did bring up a good conversation about exclusion and how the special kids are treated at school. She's a sensitive little thing and picked right up on the injustice, the discrimination.

The world can be an ugly place, baby. Let's take that bruise and turn it into a shield.

2009?

Happy New Year! 2009? Really? It's hard to believe. It sounds like science fiction to me yet here we are.

Thanks and accolades go to David & Sally and their spontaneous New Year's Eve party. Desert pot-luck with Champagne; what a brilliant idea. Jake stayed home with Shea and had an early night. Molly and I went to the shin-dig. Blurry eyed, after the fireworks, we headed home in the freezing rain well after mid-night.

New Year's Day was spent with family at my mom's house. We were all snowed in during our usual meeting day, Christmas eve, so we made up for it in style. The food was fabulous, the gathering was festive and once again I am reminded how much I love my family.

My best memory of the day has to be the serious bonding that is naturally occurring between Shea and his three year old cousin Travis. He talks laps around Shea and has the high energy precociousness that is hard to ignore. A real friendship is emerging. Shea showed Travis the fine art of car racing and Travis shared his Batman obsession. Watching it all, I got misty about those two boys growing up in proximity. They will know each other their whole lives.

Happy Birthday David!

Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday to my favorite baby brother in the world!

Happy birthday to you! And, many more!

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Just adorable

Yesterday, as Molly and Shea had lunch, she commented how adorable Shea was when he made a certain face. I agreed, of course.

Shea made a darn good approximation of "adorable" with Molly prompting.

"Shea, do you even know what adorable means?" she asked.

He thought a bit and said, "cute". Indeed.

Molly was surprised that he knew what it meant. So was I and, again, I was happy and relieved that he seems to be cognitively age appropriate. Whatever that means...

We take it all as it comes. Or try to.

No...tickling...me!

I'm trying as hard as I can to stay out of it. The noise and stomping ebbs and flows, only coming to a peak when someone gets hurt or a line has been crossed. Molly and Shea wrestle, tickle, bug, hassle, badger, provoke, annoy each other unmercifully. All the time. I suppose this is a sibling's job and I try to stay out of it for as long as my frazzled nerves will allow me to. Periodically I holler, "Hey, what's going on?" Silence. And, the cycle repeats itself.

When I hear Shea speaking full sentences (granted short ones) while sticking up for himself, I know that this is as it should be. Molly is Shea's most ardent and beloved teacher and playmate. She can get him to try things that I can only chalk up to hero worship.

I wonder if they will always be friends? Or at least playmates? I remember vividly my brother and I fighting unrelentingly. I remember saying and doing awful, just awful things. I still feel guilty about some of it. But, now I can say that my brother David is one of my favorite people on the earth. I would literally do anything for him. He cracks me up like no one else can and I just adore his positive attitude and generous spirit. I sure hope Molly and Shea will be able to have that unique connection some day.

Molly is 5 1/2 years older than Shea. My brother David and I were 13 months apart. A very, very different dynamic admittedly.

Molly, now 10, is heading into big girl time. The evidence is everywhere. She spent the day searching and downloading pop songs to load onto her i-pod. I don't know any of these tunes but she does, somehow. We spent yesterday watching Mamma Mia, the fabulous musical featuring dozens of Abba tunes that I somehow remember the words to and the perennially sexy Merle Streep. Molly snickered and swooned a little at the romantic bits and has been singing the songs ever since.

I feel adolescence barreling down on me like a steam roller. I know we will somehow get through it but I wonder what it will be like for Shea. Will Molly have any time for Shea anymore? Will her "special" little brother have any room in her day, life, thoughts? It's not her job, I know. But, I sure do appreciate her involvement and it sure would be a different family without her.

Rough patch

Shea got into trouble today at school. Something about hitting or bugging the other kids? It wasn't quite clear and I, of course, wasn't there at the time but I can imagine.

His teacher came out to have one of those heart to heart talks with Shea and I just as I picked him up. Shea must've just been pulled for a time out or something because he was in full crying, melt down mode. Not a common thing which makes me think he was pretty tired or maybe could be getting a little sick.

"I think Shea was playing at being a fierce tiger or dinosaur or something and was growling and pretending to claw at the other kids. Some of them did not want to play that way and told him so but Shea would not stop."

I said, "Oh. So you were bugging the other kids, Shea? Did someone pop you in the nose to make you stop?"

Teacher was horrified, "No, no, no! Nothing like that." I never really did find out the full story of what really happened because meanwhile Shea is still sobbing and really beginning to work us over. In this situation, my strategy is to move on to something else, change the scene, transition to something else. But, he was still worked up and hit me as I was getting his stuff to go.

The teacher kept apologizing. I am not sure why. I guess she was sorry that I had to pick up a crying kid. Hey, everyone has their moments; Shea included.

But, this is an example of something that has brewing for a while and I can't quite put my finger on it. Part of it has to do with the way Shea and Molly play together which is very physical. They wrestle and tickle and hug and jump on each other. This, of course, does not work with the other kids. Other than yelling myself hoarse anytime Molly and Shea play rough, I don't know how to change the dynamic. I mean, they love each other to distraction and frankly they should be able to play with each other the way they like to. Within reason, right?

But, then again, how does a kid like Shea learn appropriate social dynamics when Molly is throwing conflicting cues into the mix all the time? Don't get me wrong, this is not Molly's fault but I do wish there was a way to help her see that she is teaching him how to interact with the world. And, those lessons may be making it harder for him to get along.

Another part of this is his Sensory Integration issue which makes him very excitable and frustrated in crowds. He gets really worked up and, of course, can't communicate at the pace or volume as anyone around him. Sometimes he just stops trying and hits the wall. I have seen him strike out from pure frustration; everything is moving too fast for him and he doesn't know how to cope.

Sometimes Shea's progress seems dazzling and I am filled with hope and enthusiasm for the future. And, then sometimes just a little thing like "don't hit" derails all the optimism and shoots me down a road of worry, concern and pessimistic thoughts.

There really isn't anything else to do but soldier on. Some days are better than others.

Siblings of special needs kids

I remember on Molly's first day of 4th grade, her wonderfully creative teacher gave each of the children an old fashioned key. As a first day ice-breaker assignment they were to write about what that key would unlock. Understandably, there were a wide variety of ideas and the kids all got a chance to stand up and read theirs if they wanted.

Molly's key, she told the class, was to open up her brother's power of speech. She told a little about how talking was very hard for him and that we were all working very hard to help him.

Well, I can't even write this story without tearing up again. And, it's been over a year!

First, I think it is testament to the kind of kid Molly is; compassionate, empathetic and thoughtful. But I also think it is very illustrative to how siblings of specials kids commonly feel. They, somehow, want to make it better for so many reasons; to help their parents, to help their sibling and to make it easier on themselves. Let's me honest, a lot lands in the laps of these kids.

I recently heard about a program called Sibshops.

"Sibshops acknowledge that being the brother or sister of a person with special needs is for some a good thing, others a not-so-good thing, and for many, somewhere in-between. They reflect a belief that brothers and sisters have much to offer one another — if they are given a chance. Sibshops are a spirited mix of new games (designed to be unique, off-beat, and appealing to a wide ability range), new friends, and discussion activities. The Sibshop curriculum is used throughout the United States, Canada, England, Ireland, Iceland, Japan, New Zealand, Guatemala, Mexico, and Argentina."

For a long time I have been feeling that Molly could use something like this. I don't want to make a big deal about it but I think it would be a fun environment to share some feelings and thoughts about having a brother with special needs. And, now that I am writing this, I think I am going to look for some activities nearby.

What is it about bunk beds?

I can't think of anything else that gets an almost universal positive reaction from a kid like bunk beds. Suddenly bed is not only cozy and snuggly but super-duper elevated fun!

My GGF (Good Girl Friend) recently upgraded her bunk bed system for her son and had a starter set up for grabs. My husband would say that I have an uncanny ability to acquire stuff but in this case we could really use it. And, the price was right.

They brought it over while I scoured the IKEA website for assembly instructions. By the way, who knew they had all the instructions on-line to download? I didn't! What a brilliant idea.

Anyway, despite the instructions, they both took pity on me and actually set it up for me too! Kudos goes to Mark, my GGF's very pleasant and helpful husband. Shea assisted as well, to the extent that he could which was mainly staying out of the way most of the time.

And, voila! Bunk beds; perfect for a little prince. It goes without saying what any kid would choose when asked, "Do you want to sleep on the top or the bottom?" "Top" Shea immediately answered. The top, of course! Why would there be a ladder if I was going to sleep on the top? Shea did not say that but was probably thinking it.

We set up the top bunk for eventual slumber and the bottom is a full time fort. We stuffed it with comfy pillows and hung some fabric for curtain/walls so it feels like a separate little room. He didn't want to be anywhere else in the house for a good solid week but now he is getting used to it.

He does sleep up top mostly but likes to toss it up a bit depending on his mood. All in all a pretty inexpensive and fun room face-lift. And, a real shot in the arm to a kid who tends to always be in big sister's shadow.

Now she is jealous of his bed which gives him a little bargaining power.

Doing without the big kid for 5 whole days?

Does anyone remember going to camp in 5th grade? I don't; but, we lived on the Hood Canal at the time, just the sort of place that city kids would come for camp. So, maybe they didn't think we needed it. Also, that was back in the 70's and those were tough economic times for everyone. Maybe no one could afford it back then.

Now, it's all the rage to ship your 5th graders off with their class to a wilderness camp for the week. Molly leaves on Monday morning.

It goes without saying how I love my daughter; she is the sparkly, bubbly, super fabulous Molly. There is nobody like her and I adore her immensely. But, wow, she can be a colossal pain in the keester. She has a special innate skill of tormenting Shea in the most amazing way. Fine talents that only big sisters possess. But, she is the brightest star in his universe, the most exciting game in his playbook; his beloved Yaya.

What am I going to do for 5 days and 4 nights? What is Shea going to do?

Here's to wilderness camp, baby. May you learn all sorts of stuff about how to make new friends and get along with all kinds of people. May you actually enjoy the ho-down where you are made to square dance with boys. I hope you like the food, schedule, cabin mates and the science curriculum; and I can't wait to hear all about it. Dress warm because I won't be there to bug you about it.

I guess it's time to let go, just a little bit.