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.
Wednesday, 6 July 2011
Tuesday, 28 June 2011
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!!
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!!
Monday, 27 June 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, 22 June 2011
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
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
Tuesday, 21 June 2011
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
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
Thursday, 16 June 2011
A friend indeed
I just left Louis' bedroom after putting him to sleep. He just had his second meltdown of the day about not wanting to go to prechool.
It is impossible for him to explain why he doesn't want to go. I can't really suggest reasons, hoping to act as a catalyst for him to talk, because he just echos what I say.
I am pretty sure the problem is that his little playmate is away this week. This is the only kid that Louis plays with at preschool. He has been nominated as the "friend". I have written before about Louis' firm belief that he can only have one friend at a time.
The thing is, I think Louis being upset has nothing really to do with the actual kid, it is because his entire predictable preschool experience has been disrupted. Louis knew HOW to play with this friend. They have been solely each other's company at preschool since September last year. He NEVER sees this kid outside of school. He NEVER pines for this kid outside of school. He has loads of other kids outside of school that he has playdates with and he loves playing with them. I think that he does that compartmentalising thing. This kid for preschool, this kid for out of school etc etc.
Anyway, it is heartbreaking. I had an inkling that he may have a reaction, so I organised to be parent helper tomorrow. Hey hey!! Autism kid foresight....nice one. Last thing he asked before he sobbed himself to sleep was "could you carry me all day tomorrow?" cue heartbreak right here.
Oh baby, I will carry you every moment until you can walk on your own.
If anyone has any idea on how to help in this situation, I am open to suggestions.
Cheers
It is impossible for him to explain why he doesn't want to go. I can't really suggest reasons, hoping to act as a catalyst for him to talk, because he just echos what I say.
I am pretty sure the problem is that his little playmate is away this week. This is the only kid that Louis plays with at preschool. He has been nominated as the "friend". I have written before about Louis' firm belief that he can only have one friend at a time.
The thing is, I think Louis being upset has nothing really to do with the actual kid, it is because his entire predictable preschool experience has been disrupted. Louis knew HOW to play with this friend. They have been solely each other's company at preschool since September last year. He NEVER sees this kid outside of school. He NEVER pines for this kid outside of school. He has loads of other kids outside of school that he has playdates with and he loves playing with them. I think that he does that compartmentalising thing. This kid for preschool, this kid for out of school etc etc.
Anyway, it is heartbreaking. I had an inkling that he may have a reaction, so I organised to be parent helper tomorrow. Hey hey!! Autism kid foresight....nice one. Last thing he asked before he sobbed himself to sleep was "could you carry me all day tomorrow?" cue heartbreak right here.
Oh baby, I will carry you every moment until you can walk on your own.
If anyone has any idea on how to help in this situation, I am open to suggestions.
Cheers
School hopefully.
Okey dokey....heads up I have some news.
I THINK I have found a school for Louis!
We had one of two interviews yesterday. It was with the principal of the whole school and the principal of the junior school and the head of Learning Support.
My husband stayed at work for this one. We figured we wouldn't give away the gene pool mystery this early. Ha! Nah, we decided to take along Louis' therapist for this one.
And let me tell you IT WAS BRILLIANT! I couldn't have scripted it better.
They are really on the ball, as far as knowing their autism stuff. They asked the right questions and seemed happy with our answers. Both principals and Learning Support teacher knew all about the quirks of autism. From what I hear they have quite a lot of autistic and other special needs kids in the mainstream classes. It is the only mainstream school I have come across, that have sent ALL their staff to autism specific training. How great is that? They totally understood what I meant, when I described Louis' shut downs. They got quite excited actually, because they have a boy in Year 8 that just disappears and stops hearing and seeing too.
But the best thing, Louis' therapist - a brilliant woman and great friend of mine - used to be the boss of the Learning Support leader. They did the whole OMG hug hug thing. I knew at that point, things were on my side.
Anyway, the Learning Support woman is going to see Louis at preschool next week. I guess the only person that can stuff things up at this point is him. As if that is going to happen, he is too adorable for words these days.
I warned them about his current dinosaur obsession and can only hope that he is a herbivore that day.
Cheers!
I THINK I have found a school for Louis!
We had one of two interviews yesterday. It was with the principal of the whole school and the principal of the junior school and the head of Learning Support.
My husband stayed at work for this one. We figured we wouldn't give away the gene pool mystery this early. Ha! Nah, we decided to take along Louis' therapist for this one.
And let me tell you IT WAS BRILLIANT! I couldn't have scripted it better.
They are really on the ball, as far as knowing their autism stuff. They asked the right questions and seemed happy with our answers. Both principals and Learning Support teacher knew all about the quirks of autism. From what I hear they have quite a lot of autistic and other special needs kids in the mainstream classes. It is the only mainstream school I have come across, that have sent ALL their staff to autism specific training. How great is that? They totally understood what I meant, when I described Louis' shut downs. They got quite excited actually, because they have a boy in Year 8 that just disappears and stops hearing and seeing too.
But the best thing, Louis' therapist - a brilliant woman and great friend of mine - used to be the boss of the Learning Support leader. They did the whole OMG hug hug thing. I knew at that point, things were on my side.
Anyway, the Learning Support woman is going to see Louis at preschool next week. I guess the only person that can stuff things up at this point is him. As if that is going to happen, he is too adorable for words these days.
I warned them about his current dinosaur obsession and can only hope that he is a herbivore that day.
Cheers!
Friday, 10 June 2011
Happy Birthday to Me
It is my birthday today! I am 39 years old.
Louis said "happy birthday", with only a little prompting.
That was a pretty damn good present.
He does insist that I am 87 years old though. And that he is 31 years old.
Louis said "happy birthday", with only a little prompting.
That was a pretty damn good present.
He does insist that I am 87 years old though. And that he is 31 years old.
Sunday, 5 June 2011
Grumpy Old Troll
My cranky old bitch level is right up there tonight. I feel all prickly and frustrated. I really am the dream wife, you know?
Trying to keep it all in. Pushed down into that tight, seething ball in the pit of my guts.
We got back a little while ago from my brother's place. Unfortunately, Louis was less than pleasant in the social niceties stakes this afternoon. Feeling the way I do right now, I can't really blame him. Thing is, Louis probably tries a lot harder than I do to keep his equilibrium.
He is just having an off day. He has had five accidents of the liquid variety today. He just doesn't seem to have felt the urge - until too late. He was biting his fingers a lot, once we were at his cousin's house and was not able to speak for a while. He wanted to keep his tight beanie on his head for the majority of the visit too.
I organised some outside running around, to ease his stress, which worked well. My family are the greatest, but they do tend to LOOK at Louis a lot, mainly because they desperately want to ease his discomfort and are always watching him for signs of distress. So, outside running around was a pretty good relaxer for a while.
I started to wind things up and we all went back inside. Louis was quite short with his cousin, who wanted to play WITH him. There were a few instances of bellowing "NO, I DON'T WANT TO", "I DON'T WANT TO PLAY" and just plain old "I SAID NO!" Each time he was made to apologise quickly and we all moved on.
However, I was glad to get out of there tonight. Some days autism and social stuff, just aren't going to mix, no matter how we may try.
We drove home listening to a compilation CD of dinosaur songs. It was when my husband pointed out that swearing under my breath repeatedly when they sung about the 'mighty brontosaurus'*, that I realised ONCE AGAIN, that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
* It is NOT a brontosaurus. There is NO SUCH THING as a brontosaurus. It is an Apatosaurus.
Anyhoo, I am off. In every which way.
Trying to keep it all in. Pushed down into that tight, seething ball in the pit of my guts.
We got back a little while ago from my brother's place. Unfortunately, Louis was less than pleasant in the social niceties stakes this afternoon. Feeling the way I do right now, I can't really blame him. Thing is, Louis probably tries a lot harder than I do to keep his equilibrium.
He is just having an off day. He has had five accidents of the liquid variety today. He just doesn't seem to have felt the urge - until too late. He was biting his fingers a lot, once we were at his cousin's house and was not able to speak for a while. He wanted to keep his tight beanie on his head for the majority of the visit too.
I organised some outside running around, to ease his stress, which worked well. My family are the greatest, but they do tend to LOOK at Louis a lot, mainly because they desperately want to ease his discomfort and are always watching him for signs of distress. So, outside running around was a pretty good relaxer for a while.
I started to wind things up and we all went back inside. Louis was quite short with his cousin, who wanted to play WITH him. There were a few instances of bellowing "NO, I DON'T WANT TO", "I DON'T WANT TO PLAY" and just plain old "I SAID NO!" Each time he was made to apologise quickly and we all moved on.
However, I was glad to get out of there tonight. Some days autism and social stuff, just aren't going to mix, no matter how we may try.
We drove home listening to a compilation CD of dinosaur songs. It was when my husband pointed out that swearing under my breath repeatedly when they sung about the 'mighty brontosaurus'*, that I realised ONCE AGAIN, that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
* It is NOT a brontosaurus. There is NO SUCH THING as a brontosaurus. It is an Apatosaurus.
Anyhoo, I am off. In every which way.
Saturday, 4 June 2011
The Good Wife
Who tells men that little blonde frosted tips on their hair looks good? Just can't STAND that look!
And that brushed forward bieber looking do, that young teenage lads have. Shit on toast.
I guess this is part of getting old. Men under the age of 30 just look ridiculous to me. They seem to flounce around a lot more than men used to. As a woman, I appreciate the ability to spell correctly incredibly more sexy than the ability to ponce around the local shopping centre with faux-hawks.
So I have banned my husband from the local mall.
Ha ha ha!
He totally has no hair to mohawk, fauxhawk, foof or flounce. There are a few little baby elephant tufts up top and that is about it.
BUT he can spell.
And so we shall remain married.
So this train of thought came about because I was wondering if my Louis will ever give a crap about looks and style. I have spoken to mothers, who claim that their son's are extremely picky about what they wear. Seriously! They insist on certain styles of clothes, and choose clothes for how they LOOK. I am not talking about needing soft clothes, with no tags etc. I am talking aesthetics! At kindergarten age.
Louis rarely notices if he is dressed or not. He often toddles off out of the house with no shoes on. He gets in the bath with his clothes still on. If I didn't pull him up, I really don't know how long it would be until he noticed.
So, I was just wondering if anyone elses tizzy kids notice what they are wearing. To be honest, I am hoping that he never cares about this stuff. I would hate to have to start putting an effort into what I look like, for fear of embarrassing him!
I will leave you with this morning's Louis antics.
Louis was walking back from the park with Daddy and the dog. A man walked past them with another dog, which barked fiercely at our dog. Louis freaked. Daddy swung around trying to control our equally freaked out dog and inadvertently hit Louis in the head with his back pack. I had been watching from our house and shuffled down the road to meet them.
Louis was sniffling still when I picked him up. He said "Mummy, Daddy hit me in the head". I said "That is no good buddy, it was an accident though". Louis replied "No, he did it on purpose". I grinned and said to Daddy "Well, that was a crappy thing to do, wasn't it!". Daddy tried for a teaching moment "Louis, it was an accident. When you kicked that girl, when you were on the swing, that was an accident wasn't it?". Louis "No it was on purpose".
Nice one!
So anyway, we had a scheduled play date which we rocked up to with Louis wearing a bandage around his head and bandaids plastered in his hair (he insisted on this). Then he got to tell everyone that he looked the way he did because: "Daddy, hits me on the head - ON PURPOSE!!"
Poor Hubs. I am so not a united front. Nope, not for a minute.
And that brushed forward bieber looking do, that young teenage lads have. Shit on toast.
I guess this is part of getting old. Men under the age of 30 just look ridiculous to me. They seem to flounce around a lot more than men used to. As a woman, I appreciate the ability to spell correctly incredibly more sexy than the ability to ponce around the local shopping centre with faux-hawks.
So I have banned my husband from the local mall.
Ha ha ha!
He totally has no hair to mohawk, fauxhawk, foof or flounce. There are a few little baby elephant tufts up top and that is about it.
BUT he can spell.
And so we shall remain married.
So this train of thought came about because I was wondering if my Louis will ever give a crap about looks and style. I have spoken to mothers, who claim that their son's are extremely picky about what they wear. Seriously! They insist on certain styles of clothes, and choose clothes for how they LOOK. I am not talking about needing soft clothes, with no tags etc. I am talking aesthetics! At kindergarten age.
Louis rarely notices if he is dressed or not. He often toddles off out of the house with no shoes on. He gets in the bath with his clothes still on. If I didn't pull him up, I really don't know how long it would be until he noticed.
So, I was just wondering if anyone elses tizzy kids notice what they are wearing. To be honest, I am hoping that he never cares about this stuff. I would hate to have to start putting an effort into what I look like, for fear of embarrassing him!
I will leave you with this morning's Louis antics.
Louis was walking back from the park with Daddy and the dog. A man walked past them with another dog, which barked fiercely at our dog. Louis freaked. Daddy swung around trying to control our equally freaked out dog and inadvertently hit Louis in the head with his back pack. I had been watching from our house and shuffled down the road to meet them.
Louis was sniffling still when I picked him up. He said "Mummy, Daddy hit me in the head". I said "That is no good buddy, it was an accident though". Louis replied "No, he did it on purpose". I grinned and said to Daddy "Well, that was a crappy thing to do, wasn't it!". Daddy tried for a teaching moment "Louis, it was an accident. When you kicked that girl, when you were on the swing, that was an accident wasn't it?". Louis "No it was on purpose".
Nice one!
So anyway, we had a scheduled play date which we rocked up to with Louis wearing a bandage around his head and bandaids plastered in his hair (he insisted on this). Then he got to tell everyone that he looked the way he did because: "Daddy, hits me on the head - ON PURPOSE!!"
Poor Hubs. I am so not a united front. Nope, not for a minute.
Thursday, 2 June 2011
Remember me??
Howza kids!
I am nearly back on board. Every Louis free moment has been devoted to essays, assignments and exams. Only one more to go, and I am FREE baby!!
For three weeks anyway.
Just going to give a quick recount of the EEG excitement. I am so proud of my laddio. He sat there like a freaking champ, while they stuck on all the leads and bandages. He lay in that bed for 24 hours and did not complain once. The techs and neurologists were amazed by his good behaviour.
You know, I would like to pretend that it has something to do with my parenting. But it doesn't. Louis is just one of those autistic kids that LOVE a good rule. When he is told what is going to happen, and then it happens, he is okay. It is when things happen unexpectedly that he falls apart. Also, he totally loses the power to speak or move when he is stressed. So he looks well behaved, when really he is going into shut down. NEAT huh!!!
Joking, it is pretty sad to watch, when you know what is going on. Luckily the neurologist has spent time with Louis before and knew to start making random statements about dinosaurs to relax him. Before long, Louis could talk again and was off on the endless dinosaur monologue that took up most of the next 24 hours.
So Louis was great. Handled the whole event with grace and style.
If anyone cares, I didn't sleep a fucking wink. I had a lovely fold out chair to sleep on. But one really shitty thing about the children's hospital, is all the sick children. Sick children are understandably pissed off. And pissed off sick kids can be damn loud! All night! Poor mites. But still, no sleep for me!!
End result of the 24 hour video EEG.......
SAME AS LAST TIME!!!!
bilateral epileptiform discharges happening often in both day and night. Not quite seizures but possibly precursors, maybe just a stangely wired autistic brain. No MRI (thank you!) and no medication at this point. All good, just need to keep an eye on him.
So that is that.
I will be back soon, blogging regularly again.
Before I go, this is a conversation I had with Louis this morning.
Louis: almost in tears "I wish I could be a super hero"
Me: "Like superman?"
Louis: "No! Like SuperLouis"
Me: "You can be SuperLouis today, if you like"
Louis: "No thank you"
Me: ??
I am nearly back on board. Every Louis free moment has been devoted to essays, assignments and exams. Only one more to go, and I am FREE baby!!
For three weeks anyway.
Just going to give a quick recount of the EEG excitement. I am so proud of my laddio. He sat there like a freaking champ, while they stuck on all the leads and bandages. He lay in that bed for 24 hours and did not complain once. The techs and neurologists were amazed by his good behaviour.
You know, I would like to pretend that it has something to do with my parenting. But it doesn't. Louis is just one of those autistic kids that LOVE a good rule. When he is told what is going to happen, and then it happens, he is okay. It is when things happen unexpectedly that he falls apart. Also, he totally loses the power to speak or move when he is stressed. So he looks well behaved, when really he is going into shut down. NEAT huh!!!
Joking, it is pretty sad to watch, when you know what is going on. Luckily the neurologist has spent time with Louis before and knew to start making random statements about dinosaurs to relax him. Before long, Louis could talk again and was off on the endless dinosaur monologue that took up most of the next 24 hours.
So Louis was great. Handled the whole event with grace and style.
If anyone cares, I didn't sleep a fucking wink. I had a lovely fold out chair to sleep on. But one really shitty thing about the children's hospital, is all the sick children. Sick children are understandably pissed off. And pissed off sick kids can be damn loud! All night! Poor mites. But still, no sleep for me!!
End result of the 24 hour video EEG.......
SAME AS LAST TIME!!!!
bilateral epileptiform discharges happening often in both day and night. Not quite seizures but possibly precursors, maybe just a stangely wired autistic brain. No MRI (thank you!) and no medication at this point. All good, just need to keep an eye on him.
So that is that.
I will be back soon, blogging regularly again.
Before I go, this is a conversation I had with Louis this morning.
Louis: almost in tears "I wish I could be a super hero"
Me: "Like superman?"
Louis: "No! Like SuperLouis"
Me: "You can be SuperLouis today, if you like"
Louis: "No thank you"
Me: ??
Thursday, 19 May 2011
Bridge over Troubled Water.
Louis just pulled me up to tell me this:
Louis: "Mummy, if I cross a bloody old bridge and fall in, there will be carnivores in the water and they will eat me. Then Daddy will sit in the back and you will have to drive HIM to preschool. Or maybe you could be eaten too and Daddy can FINALLY drive the car !!"
What am I supposed to get from this information?
I am bogarting the car?
Louis doesn't want to go to preschool anymore and would rather be eaten alive by meat eating dinosaurs?
How am I going to stop him saying "bloody old bridge". He got it off Dora. He misheard the grumpy old troll talking about his bridge and refers to any overpass as a "bloody old bridge".
Kindergarten is going to be fun,right. Hmmmm. Apparently today at preschool he kept announcing that dinosaurs "stink". Finally they cottoned on that he mean't "extinct".
Louis: "Mummy, if I cross a bloody old bridge and fall in, there will be carnivores in the water and they will eat me. Then Daddy will sit in the back and you will have to drive HIM to preschool. Or maybe you could be eaten too and Daddy can FINALLY drive the car !!"
What am I supposed to get from this information?
I am bogarting the car?
Louis doesn't want to go to preschool anymore and would rather be eaten alive by meat eating dinosaurs?
How am I going to stop him saying "bloody old bridge". He got it off Dora. He misheard the grumpy old troll talking about his bridge and refers to any overpass as a "bloody old bridge".
Kindergarten is going to be fun,right. Hmmmm. Apparently today at preschool he kept announcing that dinosaurs "stink". Finally they cottoned on that he mean't "extinct".
Wednesday, 18 May 2011
Raise a glass to Big Daddy.
Howdy folks. I am back again. Maybe only sporadically for the next couple of weeks though. Big time assignments and exams coming up.
I wanted to make good my threat however, to review Big Daddy's book.
I read the book in two sittings. I was really impressed. You see, I own at least forty memoirs, biographies, compilations relating to autism. Yes, obsession is a hobby of mine.
Big Daddy has written the ONLY book that I have read, that has the perfect balance of gritty honesty, outrageous humour and touching poignancy. And outrageous humour....did I mention that?
I have read all of Big Daddy's posts. Each day, I feel as though I walk through the door of his house and sit down to enjoy the show. I have a deep respect for his wife, I simply adore his autistic son Griffin and I am proud of the young lady that Lil Sis is becoming. Big Daddy, seems kinda cool too. Bit obsessed with his own moobs, but hey different strokes and all.
I wouldn't know these people, if I passed them on the street; which is unlikely considering the oppositie hemispheric locations we reside in. And yet, I really care about them. I look forward to hearing what is going on in their lives. I relate to them and when I read Big Daddy's blog, I feel part of a community. Something bigger than myself. That is a nice place to be able to go, when my own life raising and child with autism gets difficult.
Big Daddy's book, is all this and more. I can only liken it to how my son felt when, after watching months worth of Thomas episodes, he discovered there was a feature length movie. Yeah, that good.
He has written a book, that like his blog, celebrates the hysterically funny and often surreal moments that living with a child with autism brings. I respect his ability to appeal to such a vast array of us residing in the autism community. He has been able to do this, without buying into any politics that surrounds autism. He has shown through example that acceptance and respect is a destination that we all should reach for, no matter which side of the autism debate we are on.
The essays interspersed throughout the book are written by some brilliant online writers of autism. It was delightful to recognise each 'voice' and be taken by the hand to experience a little more deeply their experiences with autism.
My husband is currently reading Big Daddy's book. I can hear him laughing out loud, from rooms away.
Oh and Lynn, you start the book with a comment about squirting your pants and bookend it with a statment comparing Italy to a sleazy slut. Girl, you are a legend!
You done good Big Daddy.
I wanted to make good my threat however, to review Big Daddy's book.
I read the book in two sittings. I was really impressed. You see, I own at least forty memoirs, biographies, compilations relating to autism. Yes, obsession is a hobby of mine.
Big Daddy has written the ONLY book that I have read, that has the perfect balance of gritty honesty, outrageous humour and touching poignancy. And outrageous humour....did I mention that?
I have read all of Big Daddy's posts. Each day, I feel as though I walk through the door of his house and sit down to enjoy the show. I have a deep respect for his wife, I simply adore his autistic son Griffin and I am proud of the young lady that Lil Sis is becoming. Big Daddy, seems kinda cool too. Bit obsessed with his own moobs, but hey different strokes and all.
I wouldn't know these people, if I passed them on the street; which is unlikely considering the oppositie hemispheric locations we reside in. And yet, I really care about them. I look forward to hearing what is going on in their lives. I relate to them and when I read Big Daddy's blog, I feel part of a community. Something bigger than myself. That is a nice place to be able to go, when my own life raising and child with autism gets difficult.
Big Daddy's book, is all this and more. I can only liken it to how my son felt when, after watching months worth of Thomas episodes, he discovered there was a feature length movie. Yeah, that good.
He has written a book, that like his blog, celebrates the hysterically funny and often surreal moments that living with a child with autism brings. I respect his ability to appeal to such a vast array of us residing in the autism community. He has been able to do this, without buying into any politics that surrounds autism. He has shown through example that acceptance and respect is a destination that we all should reach for, no matter which side of the autism debate we are on.
The essays interspersed throughout the book are written by some brilliant online writers of autism. It was delightful to recognise each 'voice' and be taken by the hand to experience a little more deeply their experiences with autism.
My husband is currently reading Big Daddy's book. I can hear him laughing out loud, from rooms away.
Oh and Lynn, you start the book with a comment about squirting your pants and bookend it with a statment comparing Italy to a sleazy slut. Girl, you are a legend!
You done good Big Daddy.
Saturday, 14 May 2011
Sleepless saga post eleventy million
Things are pretty rough round these parts with the ongoing and worsening lack of sleep.
Most days, just getting through on survival mode. That is okay. Surviving is better than not surviving.
However, blogging not up there in priorities.
I will be back on scintillating form soon.
I HAVE finished Big Daddy's book. It is fucking fantastic. I will be reviewing it, as previously threatened. I just want to do it justice and so will wait until I have a night's sleep under my belt.
So a big hello from under the fog.
Most days, just getting through on survival mode. That is okay. Surviving is better than not surviving.
However, blogging not up there in priorities.
I will be back on scintillating form soon.
I HAVE finished Big Daddy's book. It is fucking fantastic. I will be reviewing it, as previously threatened. I just want to do it justice and so will wait until I have a night's sleep under my belt.
So a big hello from under the fog.
Thursday, 12 May 2011
No more miles to go before I sleep.
Howdy folks
I have been MIA. Madness, stress, lack of sleep and madness. Did I mention madness?
I am taking the advice of a dear friend, who has suggested that I shut the fuck up and go to sleep. Apparently, the vaccuuming, essay reworking and shopping can wait. So that is what I have been trying to do.
I imagine I would feel a lot better, if I didn't feel so goddamn guilty.
Anyhoo.....
Big Daddy's book arrived today. Very excited. I will read it and review it. Right here, on this blog. Stay tuned.
I have been MIA. Madness, stress, lack of sleep and madness. Did I mention madness?
I am taking the advice of a dear friend, who has suggested that I shut the fuck up and go to sleep. Apparently, the vaccuuming, essay reworking and shopping can wait. So that is what I have been trying to do.
I imagine I would feel a lot better, if I didn't feel so goddamn guilty.
Anyhoo.....
Big Daddy's book arrived today. Very excited. I will read it and review it. Right here, on this blog. Stay tuned.
Sunday, 8 May 2011
Mother's Day
Happy Mother's Day to my mum.
My mum could probably get herself a diagnosis of PTSD, for what I put her through. I was a difficult child, a nightmare of a teenager and a loose cannon in early adulthood.
Mum was the one person, who stuck through it all and kept wanting to hear from me. She wasn't blind to my faults. Good grief, she let me have it on occasion. But despite it all, she loved me anyway.
She is just the kind of woman that I want to be. She doesn't suffer fools gladly. Unlike me though, she is polite and mostly keeps her feelings to herself. She loves all animals unreservedly. Seriously, the most hopeless fool for an animal I have ever known. I reckon I come in at a close second. She raised two fine boys and me.
She taught me how to be strong through example. She taught me how to knuckle down, and do what needs to be done. She gave me the love of books and poetry. She is still trying to teach me how to keep an organised house, but really it is probably time to let that one go to the keeper.
She loves my boy with all her heart. She is a champion for his rights. She has played endless hours of repetitive games. She has cheered him on every step of the way. She is so proud of him, for who he is. She worries about him, like she worried about me. But she needn't. Louis feels safe and comfortable and strong when he is around Nanna. The same gifts that she gave me.
Mum was with me when I gave birth to Henry. She held my hand through the painful labour. She cried as she held him, knowing he was going to die. She cried for the little life that was never going to be. She cried for the painful journey of loss she knew that I was just beginning.
Without the twin anchors of my mother and my husband, I wonder if I would have sailed off with that grief. Its pull was so strong.
Today, the pain is bittersweet. I am so grateful for the son I have. I ache for the son I will never truly know. It has been a day of reflection. Of joy and grief.
I love you Mum.
Thank you Mum, for the strength and unending love you give me.
Thank you Louis, my precious funny boy.
Thank you Henry, I will hold you in my dreams, sweet one.
Saturday, 7 May 2011
Insanity is a hooting dinosaur
AAAAARRRRRRRGGGHHHHHH
That was me tearing my hair out in frustration.
I am seriously doubting my sanity at the moment. As I have spoken about before, I am studying to become a special education teacher. I specifically want to work with autistic kids. Because they rock.
Anyway, I have this 3000 word essay to do on law and ethics and it is totally doing my head in. I have never experienced anything like this in my whole schooling, tertiary or otherwise.
I simply cannot write this essay. I can't organise my thoughts. I can't stop them from jumping from subject to subject, long enough to get anything written down.
I have, I shit you not, a 20 cm pile of reference papers and journals. I have read them all.
I have simply no ability to slow my brain down long enough to get this fucking essay written.
I know this is going to sound pathetic, coming off the back of my hypochondria post but I think I know what the problem is........I HAVE ATTENTION DEFICIT DISORDER.
For some reason it has just struck me down at 38 years of age. Some of you may scoff and put it down to the ongoing sleep deprivation, stress and general depression, but my money is on adult onset ADD.
In other news, Louis spent the majority of the day making odd hooting noises instead of speaking. It was astonishingly annoying.
Late this afternoon, he filled me in that he is actually being a Stygimoloch. A herbivorous dinosaur from the cretaceous period, with a bony head. I am not kidding. He told me all these facts. This from a boy who cannot for the life of him, recall the letters of the alphabet.
I just looked up Stygimoloch on the net, to make sure I spelled it correctly. Apparently, they use their hard skulls to fight each other. I guess that explains why he was headbutting my thighs all day long.
This is Louis, hooting at the cat.
That was me tearing my hair out in frustration.
I am seriously doubting my sanity at the moment. As I have spoken about before, I am studying to become a special education teacher. I specifically want to work with autistic kids. Because they rock.
Anyway, I have this 3000 word essay to do on law and ethics and it is totally doing my head in. I have never experienced anything like this in my whole schooling, tertiary or otherwise.
I simply cannot write this essay. I can't organise my thoughts. I can't stop them from jumping from subject to subject, long enough to get anything written down.
I have, I shit you not, a 20 cm pile of reference papers and journals. I have read them all.
I have simply no ability to slow my brain down long enough to get this fucking essay written.
I know this is going to sound pathetic, coming off the back of my hypochondria post but I think I know what the problem is........I HAVE ATTENTION DEFICIT DISORDER.
For some reason it has just struck me down at 38 years of age. Some of you may scoff and put it down to the ongoing sleep deprivation, stress and general depression, but my money is on adult onset ADD.
In other news, Louis spent the majority of the day making odd hooting noises instead of speaking. It was astonishingly annoying.
Late this afternoon, he filled me in that he is actually being a Stygimoloch. A herbivorous dinosaur from the cretaceous period, with a bony head. I am not kidding. He told me all these facts. This from a boy who cannot for the life of him, recall the letters of the alphabet.
I just looked up Stygimoloch on the net, to make sure I spelled it correctly. Apparently, they use their hard skulls to fight each other. I guess that explains why he was headbutting my thighs all day long.
This is Louis, hooting at the cat.
Thursday, 5 May 2011
Nanna Nap
That is my head. That is my head sans makeup. Under flourescent lights. With nearly three months straight of sleepless nights under my belt. So be kind.
I wanted to show you how racoon-like my eyes have become. I know I have recently compared the bags under my eyes to the scrotums of meercats, but I have changed my mind. I definitely look like a racoon. If I had just brushed my teeth - a racoon with rabies.
Now, I have never been a fashion plate. Never had the kind of looks that stop people in the street. Frankly, I am grateful. I just don't like that kind of attention. However, people are now commenting on how tired I look - a lot.
"Wow, still not sleeping huh" and
"You look EXHAUSTED".
Well duh.
So, this brings me to my next point. Sleep deprivation not only ramps up the irritability and crazy in me. Apparently, it also turns me into a raving hypochondriac.
I had totally convinced myself, that I had either diabetes or Ross River virus. Both are pretty debilitating and I have been feeling much stress because, let's be honest, I don't have the time or energy to be sick. I have been anxious and stressed over my imagined prognosis. I have consulted Dr Google and caused myself great alarm.
Last night, I slept upstairs and husband was on Louis duty. I slept for 6 hours straight.
With six hours sleep comes renewed clarity.
It wasn't hypoglycaemic issues causing lethargy. Not getting sleep was causing me to fall asleep with my eyes open at 1pm each day.
This seems really bloody obvious now, on the back of a nights sleep. But, when you are living in a fog of exhaustion, it is like being depressed. It becomes your new normal and you can't remember what life was like before.
I have decided today, while Louis is at school, to NOT do any uni work. To do the bare minimum of housework and to have a nap. I am going to ignore the voice in my head that is jumping up and down, shouting about all the work that needs to be done. I need to function with a clearer head. I don't want my neuroses getting the better of me, the way they seem to when I don't get enough sleep.
So off to a nanna nap. Night all.
Monday, 2 May 2011
He says
Things Louis has said in the last 48 hours.
On seeing Daddy shave: "Mummy, Daddy has a dirty head and needs to comb it off".
On seeing a teenager with acne get off the bus: "It's head is spots? He has itchy fleas. It has spots like your feet, Daddy".
On seeing a woman on the bus with a pink flower in her hair: "It has a flower on his head". "It has a pink flower". "But my favourite colour is blue!!"
After seeing me yell out after stubbing my toe: "What?"
Me: "I hurt my toe, Louis"
Louis: "No you didn't, I am fine"
On seeing Daddy shave: "Mummy, Daddy has a dirty head and needs to comb it off".
On seeing a teenager with acne get off the bus: "It's head is spots? He has itchy fleas. It has spots like your feet, Daddy".
On seeing a woman on the bus with a pink flower in her hair: "It has a flower on his head". "It has a pink flower". "But my favourite colour is blue!!"
After seeing me yell out after stubbing my toe: "What?"
Me: "I hurt my toe, Louis"
Louis: "No you didn't, I am fine"
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