New Year, New Update!

Whoa, I honestly thought it wasn't that long ago that I updated. I guess time really does fly!

In my last post I wrote that Ethan's aggressive outbursts were happening less often. Yeah, well, then the holidays happened. He was off school for two weeks, and OH. MY. GOD. Not only did his outburst returned, but they came back with a vengeance. Daily arguments. Daily hitting. Daily kicking. Daily screaming. You name it.

So school opened up once again and I was so looking forward to getting back to our normal routines. I thought once we got back on schedule, things would calm down again. Boy, was I wrong. Within the first week back at school, Ethan had managed not only to attack teachers and other kids, but also another Kid's mom. (And just our luck, it happened to be one of the parents I reached out to for a playdate. You can pretty much guess we never did get that playdate, and probably never will.)

Now, a little over a month after school reopened, things are still touch and go. Ethan may go a day or two without any incidents, but then it all goes down the drain because he couldn't cope with how another kid wanted to play differently, or how the teachers want to do something he doesn't want to do. At home it could be because he doesn't want to put his shoes on, or getting a bath, or he doesn't want any of the choices I give him for dinner (even though he can't or won't tell me what he will eat). Screaming, hitting, kicking, and pushing were now accompanied by throwing things and attempting to escape. In one incident at school, he was angry and actually made it out the front door and onto the street by the time a teacher and I caught up to him.

Just the other day, he threw a chair inside the classroom (because he didn't like what they were doing for circle time), obviously scaring the crap out of the other kids. This prompted a sit-down (for both of us) by the director. She told him that if he hurts the teachers or kids again, then he will be spending his time in her office and the baby class (eg, not fun or "preschool detention").

She mentioned that Ethan could have what's called Oppositional Defiant Disorder. Awesome.

I have the ball rolling on getting a developmental pediatrician involved. We have our first meeting with her later this month, followed by observations, evaluations, and feedback. And possibly a diagnosis. Of something, anything to guide us because we're out of ideas.

More MIA Updates

Wow, so apparently I'm horrible about keeping this up. Things get busy, yadda yadda yadda ...

So, where to begin? In a nutshell, Ethan was denied any services through LAUSD, that while he probably could use some help, his "issues" weren't severe enough to qualify. On the one hand, GREAT! While we went through all the testing procedures, I did notice other kids who definitely seemed like they could use more help (eg. severe speech delays, etc). On the other hand, I felt like I was back to square one.

To be honest, Ethan has "grown" a lot since then. Academically, he seems to be doing well, especially with reading and math. People seem to be surprised how well he can read (for his age); which, to be honest, as a cynic, I can't tell if they're just fluffing my feathers since I don't really have any basis as to how much a four-year-old is supposed to be able to read.

However, socially, we still have some issues. Ethan's inability to cope with change had gone on to become violent. At home, I would get smacked, kicked, shoved, etc. and I was worried that this aggression would spill into school. Sometime in October, it finally did, and I was mortified. He wasn't just hitting other kids, but also the teachers. Thus prompted my first request for a parent-teacher conference.

The school staff (including the director) assured me that it wasn't the end of the world, and even pointed out that Ethan wasn't being aggressive out of malice, but because he couldn't cope with change. If other kids had a different idea about how to play with something, Ethan would freak out. And once he tipped over that edge, it was often difficult to bring him back down. Sure, you could remind him to use his words and that hitting is unacceptable until we're all blue in the face, but without a suitable (and safe) alternative, there was nowhere else for the frustration to escape than through his hands, legs, and lungs.

One method that I thought might help him is to get him to walk away. At home when he has gotten aggressive with me, he usually ends up in his room and can only come out after he's calmed down and ready to apologize. I told him that if he starts getting angry at school, he can try to find someplace away from others where he can calm down. I even suggested that he practice counting either as high as he can or in different languages. Supposedly this method worked at least once in school, but of course, catching that point (either by himself or with the help of a teacher) is far from easy.

Right now, I'm thankful that we've gone about a couple of weeks without any incidents at school. Even with me, the aggression has decreased, and I've had to put him in time out in his room maybe once in the last couple of weeks.

As for the other concern about Ethan not connecting with the other kids at school ... well, still not having much luck there. There are a couple of kids he seems to get along with, but most days he still often plays by himself. He still seems to prefer it that way, although it nearly broke my heart when I saw him one morning attempt to join a couple of other boys who were playing. They were bouncing balls among themselves, and Ethan took one ball out of the storage bin. He walked over to them and asked (a few times) if he could play with them, and he was practically ignored. Perhaps he wasn't asking too quietly. I wanted so badly to intervene, but I felt like in the long run, I wouldn't be doing him any favors by doing so. Ethan ended up putting the ball down and found something else to do. By himself.

I have reached out to the parents of a couple of the boys his teachers have told me that he gets along with, asking if they would be interested in playdates. One mom sort of shrugged me off by telling me that their schedules are all over the place so it's hard for them to plan playdates. The other I haven't even heard back from, but at least the boy came up to me and told me that he would love to have a playdate with Ethan. Eh, to be continued.

MIA Updates

I've been MIA again. Things got busy, I got lazy, etc.

However, there are several new things in life that got me promising myself to start writing again on a regular basis: I've gone ahead and pursued opportunities to help my son with some of his "issues." Specifically, getting an IEP for him. This school year will be his last before he starts Kindergarten next fall, and in the end, my desire to help him succeed in "big kids school" trumps my reservations about getting "special ed" services for my child.

So this week and next, while his preschool is closed for a brief end-of-summer break, we get to tackle several tests and evaluations. This week he'll have Language and Psych assessments, an Audio/Visual one next week, followed by the first IEP meeting the following week.

Speech & Language is nothing new for us. He received services through Regional Center right before he turned two years old for speech delay. He should have continued, but we moved, and I never got around to looking up services in our new district. Shortly after he turned four, I finally got him re-evaluated and regular appointments with a speech therapist. More about this from an earlier post here.

I wrote in that post that I would continue to do what I can to help him work out his issues. In addition to S&L, one other thing that has come up—at home, in school, during speech, at playdates, etc—is that he has trouble coping in situations where "rules" he has in his mind aren't being followed. This could be anything from how the kids are lined up at school for hand-washing, or that his father left for work without eating breakfast first, or that he witnesses a stranger crossing the street while the DON'T WALK sign was flashing. I find it almost amusing since he doesn't always follow rules himself; but if it's other people breaking them, then it's a catastrophe! From speaking with his preschool teachers and his speech therapist, I was introduced with the idea of social skills groups. I thought it was a great idea and began looking around for groups in our area.

At the same time, I was encouraged again to contact our local school district to ask about preschool services—they could offer the exact services my son needs, from speech to occupational therapy. The thing is, these services are through Los Angeles Unified School District's Division of Special Education. As I wrote earlier, I just had my own (silly, cowardly) hangups about such labels. I wish my reasons for putting it off were more grand, but honestly, 1) I thought going through the district would be a bureaucratic clusterf*ck, and 2) I just didn't want my son to be negatively judged if he does, in fact, have learning disabilities. I was afraid that people would think him weird or worse—simply because he's developing a little differently than other "normal" kids his age. In the end, those who would think that about my bright, happy, and friendly little guy could, to put it bluntly, go eff themselves. The ones who would not think any less of him and continue to support us are the ones that matter.

So here we go. Today was actually his S&L assessment. I'll write another post with details, but so far, I've been pleasantly surprised at how well LAUSD has been working with us. My fingers are crossed.

The Filing Cabinet

A couple of months ago, I finally got my son into another speech therapy program.

Back story: He was in one, briefly, a couple of years ago for a speech delay. I ended up pulling him out because we moved, but since he also started talking non-stop, I thought it was no longer as big issue. Around the time he turned three, even though he talked all the time, it became clear that he had some difficulty enunciating many words; I could easily translate what he was saying, but I guessed that everyone else understood him 50% of the time. Maybe less. Again, I thought he would just "grow out of it," that he'll eventually be able to sound out the letters R and L, etc. It wasn't until I met with his preschool teachers earlier this year that I realized how much his speech issues affected other things, most importantly, his social interactions with other kids. They were concerned that my son had not made any real connections with any of the other kids, even though they have been in the same classroom for several months already. They said that perhaps the biggest hurdle is because the other kids have trouble understanding him; if they try to speak with him and he either can't answer them or answers unintelligibly, then they get frustrated and/disinterested.

While not totally uncommon, they also told me that at this age (4-5), kids generally start to really play with one another. It was very surprising and sobering to hear, since my son is far from being a shy kid; he will talk to complete strangers at the store, and is known for always having a beaming smile on his face. Consequently, I began to notice when I dropped him off in the mornings, there were definite "groups" of kids who generally played together ... and there was my son, who played by himself. It broke my heart. Now, it wasn't like my son sat in a corner and cried - he was happy to play alone, or briefly with the occasional kid who stopped by to check out what he was doing, but as his mother, of course I want him to have friends and be able to have fun with them. I am an introvert, so I fully understand the preference to do things alone, but I was/am afraid that my son's speech difficulties could lead him to be treated as an outcast.

So I finally got off my ass and got him into therapy. Great! But then they made me realize something else. While he definitely needs help with articulation, he also has problems simply communicating. Ask him a question, and he could give you a seemingly random or unrelated answer. Yes, this was something else I knew, but didn't think too much of. That is, until I took into consideration how it affects his interactions with other kids.

The best example they gave me was this: it's as if his mind is like a filing cabinet. Talk to him, and instead of pulling out the right piece of paper, everything just falls out and he picks up the first piece that he thinks makes sense. That is so completely him. Again, I was able to figure him out because most of the time, I knew what he was referencing. But to others? Talk to him about food, and he will blurt out something like, "But the kids won't have good food to eat!" While I could recognize that he's recalling something from the book, "The Little Engine That Could," others would generally be like, "WTF?"

So we're working on it. He has speech therapy twice a week, I take him to as many of his classmates' birthday parties that we get invited to, and he'll be in preschool for five days a week (instead of three) starting in the fall. If it comes up again (his speech therapist mentioned the possibility of him being ADHD), I'll do what I can to help him work it out. My son is a crazy, happy four-year-old - and I think as most parents are wont to do, I'll be damned if he's ostracized or bullied in some way because he has difficulty talking.

Love and Vomit

There are many, many things I never thought I would do or say before I became a parent. (How often I make references about my son's toilet habits, for example.) But there is one specific thing that I remember my mother doing that catches me by surprise every time I find myself doing it: I'm talking about catching my child's vomit with my bare hands.

Gross, I know. Which is why I'm surprised each and every time I have done it myself.

When I was about five years old, the open windows in my bedroom suddenly slammed the door shut behind me. Unfortunately, one of my fingers was still back there. On the plus side, it wasn't severed completely, and the doctors were able to reattach the wayward tip. I was knocked out for the operation, and I remember waking up feeling very, very ill. As soon as I sat up, out came the vomit, and I very clearly remember my mother rushing over with her hands cupped just below my mouth.

For the longest time I thought, "Damn, that some nasty shit right there!" I never understood how she could have done that. (As an aside, my parents were both workaholics and we spent a lot of time with nannies. Apart from the finger incident, I don't really recall any memories of being sick with the flu or a stomach bug as a young child.)

Last night (and this morning), my son barfed. As I've done every time he's gotten sick in these past four years, my cupped hands automatically shot below his mouth to catch it. And after EVERY. SINGLE. TIME ... I think to myself, "Good lord, it's like what my mom did for me!"

I guess I like to think of it as something a parent would do, unconditionally, for her child. That, no matter little time my mom and I spent together, she would still do that for me. No matter how angry or frustrated I get at my son, I would still do that for him. There is no truer sign of love than catching someone else's vomit!

And, I'm somewhat shallow. Better my hands than that expensive rug? ;)

Nerve-Wracking

The question from Mama Kat's Weekly Writing Prompts: A case of the nerves! When was the last time you had them and how did you get through it?

The last time? This past Sunday when I had to take my four-year-old to a preschool classmate's birthday party.

See, for as much as I "talk" online, I'm actually a very introverted person. I'm not necessarily shy, I just prefer to do things on my own. But I get very stressed out in social situations where I barely know anyone while everyone else knows one another. I'm not good at going up to people and having genuine chats with them. Sure, I can do small talk, but I'm not a fan of those. So I had been stressed out about this party all week, and by Sunday morning, I honestly felt like throwing up. In the shower, I stood there shaking, even though hot water was pouring down on me. I considered taking an Ativan.

How did I get through it? It just had to be done. If I declined the invitation, I would be doing my son a disservice. As I mentioned in my previous post, my son needs a little help in getting to know his classmates. I should be thankful that we were even invited. I have to cast aside my own fears if it helps my son even in the smallest bit. I left the Ativan in the bottle, took many deep breaths on the drive to the party, and steeled my nerves as best as I could. I'm pretty sure I thought to myself, "It won't be that bad, you'll probably be chasing him down during the entire party. There probably won't even be many instances where you're sitting there by yourself, all pathetic-like."

In the end, it really wasn't that bad. Sure, there was one awkward moment when my son and I sat down to eat, and he decided to sit at a table away from the rest of the kids—but in all honesty, was it such a big deal? Five minutes later, we were back outside to play, then it was time for the cake, and all the kids were able to gather around to sing "Happy Birthday." Yes, I survived, and I know I made it a bigger deal than I should have. (But isn't that what anxiety usually is?)

We have two more preschool birthday parties the next two weekends. On Sunday morning, I'll probably be hyperventilating again in the shower, but a mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do.

Updates: Potty Training, Speech Therapy, and Making Friends

I'm a horrible blogger.

Well, more specifically, it's like I'm too ADD to keep posting in one place. I may have been neglecting this blog, but at least I've (mostly) kept up with my photography blog over at (Over)Caffeinated Snapshots. Also, lately I've been trying to post more on my tumblr, which I like because it lets me post quickly whatever might be on my mind or repost something I like.

As for the parenting side of things ... lots of things.

My four-year-old is still not fully potty trained. Some days seem better than others, but I'd like to say (hopefully without jinxing myself) that my son is also getting the hang of it. It's just been a (long) frustrating journey, and having the patience to deal is definitely one of my weakest points.

My son is also back in speech therapy. This is something I should have jumped on last year, after his three-year checkup, but just never got around to it. The topic came up again when I spoke with his preschool teachers in the beginning of February, and they suggested that it might help, not just with overall language skills, but also with connecting with the other kids.

Speaking of which ... it causes me great anxiety when I think of my son not making any friends at school. As his teachers told me, the kids have been in class together for about five months already, and while boys aren't as quick to click with certain people as girls tend to, Ethan hasn't really clicked with anyone at all. They told me that there is really just one boy in the class that maybe he'll regularly play with, but even then, it's more like they happen to play with the same toys or games at the same time. When I drop my son off at school in the morning, I watch a lot of the other kids play with one another, and then there's my son, playing by himself. When I (and his teachers) ask him about any of the other kids, he has a hard time naming any of them.

Now, I don't see my son brooding over this, and honestly, right now it's probably a bigger deal to me than it is to him. I should understand perfectly, since I'm an introvert and prefer to do things on my own. However, my son is MUCH more social than I am. This is a kid who loves to talk to and interact with other people, so it worries me when I don't see him playing with the kids at school. As his teachers mentioned, maybe his difficulty communicating with the other kids have turned them off from engaging him in play, or that he gets frustrated and doesn't want to engage in play. His teachers didn't mention any negative behaviors, but sometimes I can't help but think that the other kids just don't really like him. Sure, he's crazy and tends to be loud and wild, but he's a good kid and has a good heart. I know it's only preschool, but I just don't want him bullied or otherwise made fun of.

I'm hoping speech therapy helps with his language skills—that better language skills will lessen any frustration he has communicating with others (or lessen the frustration others may have in understanding him).

I Wish Someone Told Me That ...

In the last three years and eight months, I have learned a lot about parenting, but I am FAR from being an expert in anything. In fact, I still consider myself a newbie, and believe that part of the "adventure" is that you're always learning something new or different.

This kid's got quite a set of lungs!

In the excitement of pregnancy, 99% of what I heard from others were all the happy, feel-good stories about child-rearing. Maybe some people brought up the not-so-glorious moments, and maybe I just chose not to hear them. Now, almost four years later, I wish I had listened better, because damn, I could have probably saved myself (and my child) some headaches. I wish someone had told me that being a new parent isn't going to be 100% about sweet, I WILL CHERISH EVERY DAMN SECOND kind of thing. There will be days when you have to go outside out of frustration and string a bunch of obscenities that would make a sailor blush. And you know what? That's OK. 

Of course there are wonderful moments, like snuggling up with your new baby, or the first time your baby smiles (for real, not because he just let out a satisfying fart). Everyone talks about how awesome that new baby smell is, but people don't go around telling new mothers that potty training could possibly be the worst battle she will face as a parent in the first five years. I suppose it's because people don't want to be Debbie Downers in front of pregnant women or new mothers, but in hindsight, I do wish more people gave me realistic advice and less of the lovey-dovey stuff. For one thing, I ended up with postpartum depression, so hearing people tell me how in love I was supposed to be with my newborn — when I was already having personal bonding issues — probably made me feel worse that I already was feeling.

I'm not saying that hearing "horror stories" would have made me change my mind about becoming a parent. New parents already have so much going on that feelings of inadequacy or loneliness could make overwhelming situations feel even more unmanageable. New parents should know that it's fine to feel a little nutty, and that if things get too crazy, there's always help available. Most hospitals have programs to help new moms deal with PPD, and there are places online like Meetup.com that allow you to connect with others who share similar interests and situations. A little craziness is part of the adventure that is parenting; worrying that you're the only one who feels that way is something we can all do without.

Paying Kids for Good Grades

I saw this post on The Stir last week and have been thinking about it since. The basic premise is: should kids be paid in cold, hard cash for good grades? While I'm many years away from even considering having to "bribe" my son into doing well in school, my personal answer to the question is WHY NOT?

Growing up, I was never paid for getting good grades. However, some time between elementary and middle school, my brother and I were paid for chores and other things around the house. Our parents offered them as incentives: remember to put the cap back on the toothpaste, get a nickel; make your bed, you earned a quarter; do the dishes, fifty cents! Thinking back, maybe the cash incentives helped set in my brain that these normal, everyday duties weren't only necessary, but not such horrible things to do after all — after all, in my current life as a domestic diva, I would probably feel incomplete if I didn't do these things. I like having a clean and clear sink free of dishes; I not only replace the toothpaste cap, but I make sure to squeeze from the bottom; my bed is always made. These are things that are on auto-pilot in my brain.

So back to cash for grades ... some commenters on the original post say that it leads kids to be materialistic or otherwise worship money, and that getting good grades should be all the reward they need. In a perfect world, yes, kids should want to do well in school because they realize it will only benefit them and their future. But we don't live in a perfect world. Sometimes, some kids need more or different kinds of motivation. (For me, I did so poorly my sophomore year in high school that I had to re-take some classes over the summer. That sucked. After that, I cleaned up my act.)

Does it lead kids to become more materialistic? I'm more concerned about all the products that are pushed onto kids these days. I'd rather have a kid who will say, "One day I want to make enough money so I can buy whatever I want," than a kid who expects me to just buy him the latest clothes and toys. Between seeing what other kids in school have and all the product advertising that we're surrounded by, how do we teach our kids the difference between need and want? I think what makes us a materialistic society is that too many parents have made it easy for their kids to accumulate (often unnecessary) things. Sure, some families can afford to buy whatever they want, but again, how much of it is necessary? How are we teaching our kids to value things? If they get everything they want without "working" for it, how is that going to help them out there in the big, bad world where, you know, most people do get paid for doing good work.

For my son, he will most definitely know that he cannot have things just because he wants them. While it's tough to say how much motivation he will need in school (or even with household chores), I have absolutely no problem with offering him opportunities to earn money. If he wants something that bad, then he can work for it, whether it's by doing extra chores or projects around the house or earning better grades. He won't just get paid for the hell of it, he's going to get paid so he can learn to save what he earned and (hopefully) put it to good use.