Totally traumatised by Kindi......me not him

My beautiful son started Kindergarten.

He says that it is "totally awesome".

His teacher says he has had a "lovely couple of days, but he is reticent around the children and just watches them, sussing them out"

They are going to get a social story going on how to strike up conversations.

I did a bit of this with him this afternoon......

when I wasn't grilling him for information on his "feelings about school" etc etc. I am being a shitty anxious mother.

A mother who feels like she has been kicked in the guts and has been crying since he went to bed, because she can't get the picture out of her head of her beautiful son isolated and frightened in a playground of neurotypicals that just don't understand him and don't want to.

Hmmmmm overreacting yes. Hopefully this is just some grief slash loss slash new chapter bullshit and I can be back to normal asap.

Have yourself a.......

And the festive day rolls around yet again.

I have not been here too much. A mixture of not enough time and not wanting to record the whys and wherefores of our lives. Suffice to say we have been having some difficulty with anxiety. End of year, change looming for big school, endless illnesses, a shit for brains paediatrician, and of course the old abiding Santa phobia.

This year I am asking Santa for a new paediatrician who is competent and knowledgable and respectful about autism. New skills and medication to help Louis enough to manage Kindergarten. An unwavering ability to look at the positives and bright side of life. Oh, boundless energy and enthusiasm would be gratefully accepted too.

You know,all bitching aside.... I am excited. Louis has happily accepted the tree in the house this year. We had a lovely time decorating it - and I only turned into the Tree Nazi when my mother tried to put the tinsel on in a vertical manner (WTF?!). We have avoided having any pictures, labels, wrapping paper, cards or decorations with Santa on them. God bless him, Louis really hates the man. At his preschool concert, I was moved to tears as I watched 12 little boys and girls with Santa hats and one skinny pale kid with reindeer antlers. Damn, he was the cutest thing ever.

Presents are going to be multiple in nature this year (only two last year). I believe that he will be able to cope and if he can't I will whisk a couple into a dark corner for later opening. I don't want to instil a materialistic bent to Louis' fairly zen nature but I really wanted to find something that would make his little face light up with excitement. Last year, when asked what he wanted for Christmas, he asked for "a circle". This year, he has asked for a "gold car". A matchbox car that costs about $2.00. It might be a failing within me, but I just can't bring myself to buy him a two buck car and call it quits. He would be happy, but I would feel like a tight arse jerk. Yeah, I know, my problem. Fuck it, add that one to the list I will bring to therapy when I can afford it.

The old man has three weeks off, which is very exciting. Three weeks of shared parenting, and in holiday season too! Husband is extremely good with Louis. They take long bus trips together, wander museums in quiet hours and float and splash in the pool for days on end.

Speaking of the pool, the weather for this time of year is ridiculous. It has not cracked 25 degrees. Usually we are heading for 40 degrees by Christmas. Unbelievable. I wish it would fine up. There is nothing more calming to Louis sensorily than a good hour or so in the pool.

And so my dear friends, I hope you all get through this festive season unscathed. If I could have you over for a dip in the pool with the kids, I would be delighted. Actually, I know one good reader who should be in the drink within a week. She is dreadfully lovely, but her son......divine!

Well this ramble has come to an end.

Adieu and Happy Christmas everyone xx

Oh dear

Absence seizures. Not sure how many a day.
His severe anxiety needs to be addressed with medications before we consider Epilim.
It isn't affecting his learning and the dangers of developing more severe seizures need to be weighed up against the medicine's side effects.

His anxiety is getting worse and not responding to cognitive therapy or homoeopathics.

I am gutted.

i want a cigarette.

A few Louisms

Just want to make a note of a few new Louisisms.

Daddy has been trying to teach Louis the basics of meditation, in our ongoing quest to ease his anxiety. Louis however, tries to breathe "fast", as fast is better than slow....obviously.

Anyway, he has made up a new game. He asks politely if you want to "play the meditation game" The game is you hold hands and as he says "the first one to let go wins". The kid is a sage.

I asked Louis yesterday if he knew where the "ladies" were...meaning the toilet. we were playing a game of restaurants...it had gotten awfully repetitive and I wanted to mix things up a little. He looked at me blankly and walked away. He came back with his arms around thin air and said "here are the ladies!".

I have mentioned it before, but it kills me.....when he has his hands full, he always triumphantly announces "I have full of hands!".

Neurologist tomorrow.

I am nervous.

He is oblivious.

I prefer it that way.

Cheers....xx

Hold my hand

things have been anxious and tense for the little fella lately. He has dealt beautifully with a birthday (5!!) and new floors in the house and integration days into kindergarten.

however, he has lost his ability to play at his friends house. his little friend had a few noisy tantrums and Louis just could not handle it. He has managed to allow the friend back into our house, on the proviso that he does not have a noisy tantrum, but he just cannot go back into his friends house.

He has started biting his fingers. Not his nails, just the flesh....until it bleeds. He is having trouble feeling when he needs to go to the toilet and so has had a few accidents at home and preschool. He has moved away from dinosaur obsession back to Thomas and Fireman Sam.....all indicators of significant stress and anxiety. Oh and massive trouble with noise aversion again.

Trying to keep things level and calm for him, without trying to wrap him in cotton wool. Thank goodness it is swimming weather, so he is getting lots of calming water propriocepton input. time to find him new chewing necklace. He is doing well with using ear plugs, when he needs to. He beautifully self regulates when we have people over, by going to his room and drawing the curtains, turns on the fan and sucks his dummys.

The kid is fucking champion.

Tonight, he reached for me as he fell asleep and whispered " hold my hand so I don't lose you"

I am never going to leave baby.

Farewell Charlie

I feel like all I write about is feeling crap. Then I figure, maybe I need to investigate new anti-depressants.

Then I remember that my dog died last week. I had to put him down, due to cancer. I have lost 4 animals in the last year. And of course, they were fast following on my darling Henry and my dear friend Cheryl.

I don't like it.

It makes me sad.

It compounds my hyper awareness of my mortality. Then I think of Louis and AARRRRRGGGH!!

I mean come on universe, God, higher power, planets, angels.....whatever. ENOUGH ALREADY!!!!

If there is some goddamn message I am supposed to be getting, fucking post me a letter. I am obviously not GETTING it!!!!!

And then I remember that I am not the centre of the universe. I am not being punished.

With life there is death.

With darkness there is light.

With pain there is joy.

With all the darkness, pain, and death my darling Charlie.....there was you.

Thank you.

Thank you for being a damn good boy. I love you sweetheart.

THE BOOK HAS LANDED

Oh My Goodness.

This is bound to be the MOST phenomenal book that you have ever read. I am sure that there is some random Aussie chick that wrote an essay. Can't miss that!
Buy it!!
No seriously!
Buy it!!
Did I mention it is nearly Christmas? Well it is, and you should start getting on top of your present buying.
A book is the best gift, me thinks.

Terribly proud and excited.
Mwah.

Weeeeeeeee

New Louis saying......" Great limping lizards!!"
Heeeeeeeee

Tie me kangaroo down sport.

Not sure why I picked that picture to show you all. I just like it. It is a very typical look for Louis. The rosy pink background and the kangaroo are just an added bonus really.

So....Louis is still cranking out the fevers. Could be virus, could be bacterial. No-one knows. However, it does mean that I am going to have to stay home tomorrow and look after him.

I have started doing some training, working with Louis' therapist, to work with autistic kids. Yeah yeah, I know, live it work it blah blah.

I am feeling terribly guilty that I can't go to 'work' tomorrow. Yes, i know the logic, Louis is sick, he comes first. But I am still battling with the feeling that I am letting people down. I know that this isn't the case, as I am just an extra at this point but still....

This is such an ingrained guilt feeling of mine. I blame my mum entirely..."hi Mum!". Actually, both my parents have an over the top work ethic. I am not putting down being responsible and having a strong sense of duty, but this is the woman that went to work when she had typhoid for God's sake! Yup, you heard me. Typhoid!

As I have gotten older and wiser, I have to be aware that I am actually not that important. The world can get on quite capably without me. I don't have to control everything. I have learned to accept that this awareness is actually sanity. Seeing things as they really are.

Frankly, at the moment, I feel as though I am lacking a bit of sanity. I have totally skewed perspective and am creeping down that old road of seeing every little problem as the end of the world.

I know that there are certain actions that I can take, to prevent this catastrophising and melodrama. Time to start walking the walk. Time to stop controlling and just concentrate on doing the next right thing.

This post has probably been a vague, indecipherable mess to most. Never mind, it helped me to put it down.

Just look at the pretty picture of the cute kid next to the kangaroo. It's all good.

Musings of the Museum

I feel like I have an awful lot to write about but I just don't want to think about it.

Louis had, what I presume was, a pretty big seizure last night. Just when I was ready to ring the neurologist and say no to the Epilim. You see, he has been doing so incredibly great. He has been stimmy, and happy and squeaky and bouncy and...dare I say it....pretty damn social!

But last night he was screaming and terribly upset. He said his leg wouldn't stop kicking and his head was all wobbly. He seems feverish and totally out of it today. He is exhausted and weak and can't be arsed talking.

Guess I will be filling that script in the morning after all.

Well, I don't want to end my first post back on a bad note. So here is a gooey bit.

Louis has finally made it to the museum. We have held back because of his sensory sensitivities. You see, the museum is an hour away, and we were worried that a meltdown would ensue at the door of the museum. When Louis has a meltdown, he needs to get back home ASAP. Safety behind closed doors you know.

Well, he absolutely LOVED the museum. He flapped and giggled over the dinosaurs. Hubby asked him whether he was number one or number two happy (emotion therapy - more on that later) and Louis said "I am 65 million years ago happy".

And he is!! We have been back every week since.

I am back

Oops. That was a whole month wasn't it. Shit.

I could come up with a whole bunch of reasons. But you already know what they are. I mean most of you live them right along with me. That's why I love ya.

I will write a catch up post this afternoon.

Stayed tuned for - seizure updates
- funny comments
- school decisions
- another animal down
- and so much more!!

Damn thrilling huh,

M

Raindrops and storms

My sweet kid is at school today. The kindy farm, a collection of poor benighted lambs and the odd shitstained calf, is coming to visit the preschool. Louis is not altogether happy about this. I left him and Nigel to work out their strategy. This is a happy new occurrance. Nigel seems to help Louis through some tough anxious moments, by being there when Mummy can't. So, Nigel is going to stay at preschool today and "watch Louis". Good old Nigel. According to Louis, Nigel will also give him the nod when it is appropriate to turn into a T-Rex and roar at the farm animals. Another exercise in keeping him safe apparently. Poor bloody animals.

I warned his teachers this morning to keep him back from the pen, just in case he starts roaring madly and frightening the little animals. They know my boy well, those teachers. One just looked at me and laughed and said "I don't think we need to worry about Louis coming too close to the animals". I guess, these are the people that hold him in a death grip to calm him down when the fireman comes to visit the preschool, as my son freaks out about the possibility of the siren being turned on.

On the way to preschool though, something lovely happened. Louis was telling me about his plans to be a T-Rex and I reminded him that he has scheduled times to be a dinosaur and the rest of the time he must be Louis (don't ask - I never thought I was have to comfort my son as he keens and wails because he can't "be a theropod").

So Louis was quiet for a second and said "I am a really good T-Rex". I said "And you are a fantastic Louis". Quiet again and he piped up "I like being Louis". Awwwww. How wonderful is that! and it gets better....he then asked "Do you like being, Mummy?". I nearly crashed into a tree at this point. I made some comment about liking myself when I am not a raging irritable bitch - PG version of course. But I am so thrilled about that kind of progress. To think about asking me that question indicates he is aware that I have thoughts and feelings. Well, I might be reaching a little high there. He didn't listen to my answer, as he was giggling and rocking side to side in his seat, while he fondled a fluffy dinosaur. This is often the way it is with Louis. He starts echoing the appropriate phrases and imitating questions, well before he actually understands the concepts, feeling and intentions behind them. But, it is a damn good start.

Another car drive moment occurred last weekend. The three of us were heading up the coast to visit my mother-in-law. It had been raining a lot that previous week and Louis was anxious as a result. It is weird. It is not as if he doesn't like rain, he just doesn't like the anticipation of rain. Anyway, hubs and I were fielding multiple, repetitive questions regarding the odds of future precipitation and throwing desperate looks at each other as we mentally calculated the length of the journey and how excruciating it will be if the same questions were asked for its entirety. I know, I know, that we should shut him down by finishing the subject and ignoring- and we often do - when he is in a repetitive question mode but it gets a bit hairy to do that in the car sometime. Anyway, all of a sudden Louis falls into a silent contemplation. His little face gazed out of the window for a good 20 minutes. Then he said "Mummy, does one raindrop make a storm?" What a great fucking question! So deep! So intriguing! So thoughtful! I told him it was a great question and said no it didn't.

Of course at this point Louis said "Mummy, does two raindrops make a storm?, Mummy does three raindrops make a storm? Mummy does four raindrops make a storm?" Oi vey.

Anyway, it was deep and philosophical and I think it should be embroidered on a pillow. ONE RAINDROP DOES NOT MAKE A STORM. Words to live by my friends.

Okay I will leave you with a funny one that occured between my husband and Louis. It was a couple of weekends ago and I was painting (remember? Keep up people! It looks fab by the way). Hubs was trying to rev Louis up to get him to leave the house with him and go to the park, so I could paint. Louis was, as usual, reticent to leave the house. Hubs excitedly said "Louis, we are going to have HEAPS of fun". Louis looked up with concerned eyes and replied "Only a little bit for me, please".

My kid rocks. No two ways about it.

Nigel Marven

See that dude?

He now lives in our house. I feed him. I have to buckle him into the car. I have to SLEEP with him.

He is Louis' imaginary friend.

A new development indeed in our wee household.

Now given the literal bent of autism, it may not surprise you that Louis' imaginary friend actually exists.

I introduce to you.....Nigel Marven - paleontologist. Well, he is in a shitload of dinosaur shows that Louis watches anyway.

I mentioned that Louis lives and breathes dinosaurs right? To the point of absolute saturation.

From the moment he wakes up to the moment he sleeps, all he talks about, cares about, scripts about are dinosaurs. He has a funny little stim he does with his fingers that he looks out of the corners of his eyes at, that apparently are "running velociraptors".

So anyway, Nigel has made a big impression in our household. Louis is often found mumbling away sotto voce to him. I am not privy to these conversations. Given that they are sure to involve scripting one of Nigel's docos, I certainly don't give a shit. In fact, I am pretty thankful that someone else has to listen to this stuff for a while.

However, there is a unforeseen problem. Nigel is driving a wedge between me and husband. If he aint cutting his grass, he is certainly firing up the mower. You see, Louis is insisting that Nigel sleep with me. Sure this may be platonic in a wee four-year-old's mind, but the night's are long my friend. How long am I supposed to resist the temptations of an aging British paleontologist?

Actually, I think you are quite safe hubs.

So Nige may be making a few appearances in this blog. He has been a great source of hilarity for me and husband already.

Talk sooner rather than later. Thanks for the love guys. Feeling it and feeling better xx.

Way to slippery mortal coil

So there was going to be a post about our trip to the mountains.

A cheerful departure from the grey fog of my mood.

But then I had to hold my dear, beautiful, faithful darling 15-year-old cat, as he was put to sleep.

And then I cried.

Will update if status changes. :(

Doldrumish

I have had a bit of a break from blogging. It is not as if life stopped throwing up blogworthy moments, I just have been feeling a bit adrift and I haven't been able to put it into words.

I know I have experienced these feeling before, but as each period of difficulty piles up on the ones before, it feels as if I am knocked around just that little more.

I may not even post this up.

I have ye olde chronic depression. Like in long term. Back from as long as I can remember. I have been on medication for it forever. I don't have many qualms about taking antidepressants because frankly without them I cannot function. I have done and do CBT techniques, meditation, writing etc etc. And yet I can still so easily be flattened by a rolling tsunami of mood swings, that appear out of nowhere.

I guess that is where I have been. Grabbing at the flotsam and holding my breath until I can get my head above water again.

I am not writing this post for sympathy. Please, that gives me the squinks. I just need to acknowledge it every now and then. Because I tend to pretend it isn't happening and I hide behind brittle humour while the core starts crumbling.

Consider it acknowledged. I have a post in the making about a funny little lad, who we took on a day trip to the mountains yesterday. Back soon then....buck up! It's not all so bad!

Intermission

I have lost my writing mojo. It will be back. If there is one thing I know for sure, nothing is permanent in this life. We shift and change. The most peace comes with rolling with life's own rhythm.
Right now I am painting the entire insides of the house. I am enjoying it. I am obsessional and this is a nice way of getting a result from obsession.
Still reading everyone else's blogs. Good work guys!! See you soon.

Patchwork Kitty

And here we are.
Yes, I have photo evidence.
May I proudly present........
My cat's undercarriage -



Her name is Frances. She is a princess. She has a problem. There is no shame in this. It is simply nerves and stress from being so beautiful, refined and glamorous amongst a household of dirty, profane commoners.

Frances is actually married to a strapping chap by the name of Sir Rupert Cossington Bathingswaite VC BSC and Bar. Rupert is often away on missions, to keep our country safe from invading forces and so Frances remains at my house. She often gazes out the window as she tends to her needlepoint, dreaming of those long romantic outings they took together in the two seater. Rupert, is a military man it is true. It is a hard life for a military wife. I often note a tear in her eye, as she gazes heavenward. It is not unusual for the odd biplane to dip its wings, as it soars overhead, in deference to her Lady Frances.

Lady Frances has a dear friend, Lady Amanda Soames. Lady Amanda got herself in a spot of trouble recently, with a wickedly handsome chap from Kenya. Lady Frances has stood firmly by her side throughout the scandal. We raised her this way, and are dreadfully proud.

Lady Frances' troubles with....ahem....'self Brazilian obsession and compulsion' started off innocently, as these things usually do. An impressionable beauty, with too much time on her hands. Handsome squire away on secret missions, flying the skies to protect hearth and home. And then mother introduces another into the fold. A human child. Oh yes. A bald squalling brat of little notable worth, who frankly took up too much of the human slave's time. The hairless squirt simply roared, farted and vomited incessantly. And yet, not once did the human let loose with a fistful of claws across its ever open noise-hole. Surely, this would have been the correct reaction to this unwelcome interloper. But never let it be said that the Lady Frances did not TRY. Oh try she did. She sat delicately by its side and drooled lovingly on its head. She joined in the incessant caterwauling - as one knows....misery does indeed love company. She took every opportunity to lie in its cot, pram and rocker...simply to warm it up.

And the gratitude for these esteemable actions.....NOTHING. WORSE THAN NOTHING....she was pushed aside. For THAT hairless, screeching amorphous blob.

And so it began. She only mean't to try it once. Just to see what this hairless business was all about. To satisfy her curiousity about the appeal of pink furless flesh.

And ladies and gentleman the obsession grew. The compulsion to rid herself and bare great swathes of skin is now uncontrollable. Lady Frances must wear full length sleeves and trousers at all times to cover the pink naked flesh. No more skimpy summer dresses for our Lady Frances.

There was a time that we wept. Oh yes, many a tear has fallen. But now? Goddammit, we just accept her in all her patchy glory. If she is addicted to perfecting the full body Brazilian, well so be it. We love her anyway!!

And for the record....Rupert hasn't complained once!!

Mish Mash

I can't hear; my ears are blocked. Louis was sick, ergo I am now sick. I have a blocked head.

Happily, Louis is much better. He is now a velociraptor. A velociraptor who has enormous coughing fits if he runs around too much.

I have nothing to say. Except little mutterings of self pity. So here are a few photos that Louis has taken, that I found on my camera. I know Lynn, totally ripped off post from here. Sue me and I will come around and sneeze on you :)





These two are old. Thank fuck. I hate Thomas and Spencer so much. That obsession ran for a little too long and was way too pervasive. I have that involuntary reaction to the theme song, whereby my bum eats a little bit of my pants.







That last one was my beautiful princess - Frances. She has a bunch of neuroses only rivalled in this household by myself. She actually pulls her hair out by her teeth. She has given herself a complete Brazillian. She has no hair on her forearms either. It's true. I will post some pictures tomorrow. Promise. You just hang in there kids. I know that there is little excitement in this world that compares to pictures of my cat's undercarriage.

Cheers, your welcome.

Can't even see Dawn's crack

Well it is 5am. Have done the folding of washing. Cleaned a bathroom. Emptied the dishwasher. About the scrub the floors. Anyone else get obsessed with cleaning when sleep deprivation is afoot?

Louis up and down all night. He is up right now. Well horizontal on the lounge but UP out of bed. As in, can't be up on his own. He is still feverish. Day Three now.

I am tired. I think that is why I keep moving too. You feel it more when you stop.

Okay, going to clean.
Bye

Fever all through the night

Poor wee chook is sick. Fevers and a barking seal cough. Does anything tug at the heartstrings more than your sick offspring? He has the rosy cheeks that come with fever and the bleary watery eyes. Every time I ask him how he is (why do I do this? Isn't it obvious?) he says "good". Despite the fact he has not moved off the lounge for two days, except to go to bed.

Hubs is home today. Taking a day off due to having had no sleep for a couple of nights. Hacking seals are not soporific. This allowed me to go and search for dinosaur DVDs for the patient. There simply are not enough dinosaur documentaries around. I got the giggles though, embarrassing when one is alone, when I realise that I bypass the children's section altogether and head directly for the section next to the porn, labelled "Special Interest". Aint that the truth!!

And yes, I know about "The Land Before Time" and Diego's and Dora's efforts at including dinosaurs in the scream-fests they call episodes. Louis almost had conniptions over their incorrect naming of prehistoric beasts. When the dinosaurs started talking he simply removed himself from the room in disgust.

Luckily, I found a documentary that he has not seen. Thank you Discovery Channel.

I am off to mop a fevered brow. Bye