J is a character.

He’s the funniest kid I’ve ever met.

 

He remembers every single thing he hears.

He tries to sell people things he’s heard on TV, like the Sleep Number Bed and Oxyclean Dishwasher Booster.  ”Hey mom, do you like your dishes to be sparkly?  Then get Oxyclean Dishwasher Boosters, find it in the dishwasher aisle!”

He was surprised the other day and said “Oh, my steaming grits!”

When registering for kindergarten, the teacher that was doing his assessment told us that he only counted to 10.  J replied ” Actually, I counted to 11.”

He’s almost 5, almost in kindergarten and almost as big as his older brothers.

He only said the word “no” until he was almost 3.  Every response was “no”, even to things he wanted.  When he did start talking it wasn’t like a little kid talking, he speaks like a grown up.  It’s hilarious coming out of this little cherubic face.

 

 

 

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esterday we FINALLY had the appointment with a developmental pediatrician for B and N.  It’s been a little over 15 months since the center got our paperwork and started trying to get us an appointment.  The developmental center is the only one like it near us and they can only see a certain number of kids a day.

I guess I was expecting to go in, speak to a doctor, the boys would be evaluated and we would leave with the ball rolling on a diagnosis.

The boys only ended up getting a physical yesterday and we went over some intake paperwork.  During the appointment, I lost it–emotionally, blubbery and crying.  I’m just tired and frustrated, but more  I want my boys to be ok.   I want them to get the help the need.  I wanted to quit crying so bad, and I just couldn’t stop.  I felt like an idiot.  In the past 3 years we’ve sat through many a psychologists interview, evaluations, testing and I’ve held it together.  I don’t know what’s so different about it now, maybe because now everything is getting “real”.   I remember during a family therapy session when the twins were about 4, their therapist said “You guys seem to be handling everything well, you don’t look tired or worn down.”  If she only knew.

The doctor was right in saying “right now having a diagnosis won’t change anything.”  I think the maddening thing is the wait and the length of time all of this takes.  I don’t want a misdiagnosis for them because someone jumped the gun.  When they were originally diagnosed and in order to make a diagnosis fit the symptoms there were acronyms tagged on.  ”You’re kid has this and this and this and this.”  Maybe that was jumping the gun, I don’t know anymore.  I feel like we have bits  and pieces.

Now we’re on to the next step:  N will go back to the center in a month for a speech evaluation specifically targeting the social area of language (pragmatics).  When his speech was evaluated last summer he scored well in receptive language, and he has a good vocabulary, but he had a below normal score of expressive language.   We will also meet with a psychologist.  We also have started the process in 504 plans at the school as well.  February is also our 3rd month (that’s what we call it) where its time for all of the routine doctors appointments to fall at the same time, so we’re going to be busy!

A couple of months ago I came across the Autistic-Like documentary, and it was like watching my boys’ journey.  How many other kids are stuck in this limbo?  There are issues A B C and D, but they don’t fit the diagnostic criteria., which makes it hard to get the services and therapies and support these (and our) families need.

 

 

the fragility of mornings

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aking up.

 

Feet hitting floor, tip toeing to coffee.

Don’t wake them yet.

Prepare, prepare, prepare.

Lights low to ease in the day,

72 degrees—easier to break from the comfort of bed

Breakfast waiting on you sleepy heads

Medicate…before it takes them over

Remind and cue, and walk on eggshells

Don’t forget to eat, just one more bite.

 

shirt slips on, times 2

buttons are so hard

“these socks hurt my feet, inside out, ok?”

“fast shoes, fast shoes, fast shoes”

the wailing begins

 

We were so close to beating the morning

 

 

 

A

 

 

watched pot never boils.

 

So take photos of the pretty pasta while you wait.

l i s t e n