Friday, November 20, 2009

Futile to Fight Falderal

The girls have finally moved back home. It was a quick, easy move although the getting organized will probably start tomorrow. Correction: better start tomorrow.

What is futile is to fight wanting a quiet house for any length of time. As a, matter of fact, we had to pick up Bells from school yesterday with a cough and low fever. She can not return until we have a doctor's note. Even a slight fever gives the schools such fear now. It is a shame but I suppose it is necessary.

What is also futile is to depend on others to figure out the right answers for a child like Isabella. After waiting nine months for an appointment, I accompanied The Girl and Bells to see a developmental pediatrician. Although we know she has autism, we had to get a formal diagnosis. The nurse practitioner took a detailed history and then the doctor came in. She was read the history and didn't add much of anything. When asked about testing for deficiencies or about diet she said she doesn't do any of that because it isn't "scientifically proven." See you in six months.


Not one suggestion; not one how do you do. All we got was a diagnosis. Now I understand why the moms in Bells' school told us to use another doctor; live and learn. However, the nurse practitioner and doctor both agreed that Bells has a very good chance of leading a "normal" life some day in the future.

We have expected progress not further problems. However, our girl has started to hit herself on occasion. It has brought The Girl to tears. It seems to be like a reflex rather than a behavior she thinks about. Something for us to research.

On a lighter note, we celebrated Isabella's 4th birthday last weekend. Can you believe she is four years old? She loved being sung to at the several celebrations she had. Balloons? She brings them everywhere with her! The Girl has asked me to not get any more. Himself and I got her a set of instruments - percussion instruments - drum, maracas, castinets, bells! Typical grandparent present but not when the grandchild lives with you. That kind of noise doesn't bother me. High pitched noises do like whistles.

Are there any noises that bother you? High-pitched whistles, nails on a chalkboard and utensils scraping a plate.

Have there been any battles you have had to fight for your children? Many times. Getting my children classified with learning disabilities took my figuring it out before the system did. I will go into detail if you wish.

Do you like chai? Eww. I figured out that it has cloves in it and I have a story about cloves I might share some time that explains why I hate it.

Plans for Thanksgiving? I know my Canadian friends have already celebrated and my international friends might not celebrate. We are actually staying home this year. So many years going to the in-laws and we are tired of seeing Himself's mom exhaust herself. We will go there for dessert.

Is this going to be a good holiday season? If it KILLS me I will enjoy myself! Those of you who have been with me for a while know I don't like this time of year. I am going to try to be a model of Christmas cheer!

Be well, my friends. I pray that all is well. g

1 comment:

  1. Happy belated birthday to Ms Bells :)

    ¬ Are there any noises that bother you? – My old house had thin walls. Thankfully we moved so I don’t here that anymore

    ¬ Have there been any battles you have had to fight for your children? – That lies ahead of me one day I’m sure

    ¬ Do you like chai? – I had to Google that as I didn’t know what it was. I don’t drink tea, coffee, hot chocolate etc so I’m unlikely to start with chai

    ¬ Plans for Thanksgiving? – One day maybe I’ll get to celebrate it as it hasn't been adopted by Europeans

    ¬ Is this going to be a good holiday season? I always enjoy taking time off from work. Christmas itself is just like another day for me, but the family embrace it fully so it’d be churlish of me to be the odd miserable one out.

    It’s just the commercialisation & spending beyond one’s means I’m yet to get to grips with until I enter the world of fatherhood I suspect.