Needed

Today, my boy hugged me. “…overwhelmed, “ he said, “So overwhelmed.” Actually, my boy needed his mom to hug him. And I did promising that there were more where they had come from.

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about how my son is a stranger to me; about his hidden life. He is 23 years old and there is so much I do not know about him. When did that happen? When did he become a stranger?

So, too, is my daughter. I probably know a little more about her but that is because she is 32 and a mother. We relate because we are both mothers. However, we are so different.

We think of having “babies.” We do not think about having defiant teenagers. We do not think of having 23 and 32 year old children. Are they any less our children as they grow older? At 56, I am still my mother’s child. The Girl and The Boy will always be my children.

There are probably a lot of things I don’t want to know about my children. I feel anxiety just contemplating their secrets. There are many things I hope my mom doesn’t know about the younger me. I wish it wasn’t so but it is.

Where am I going with this? I don’t know. Just feeling the need to try to work out what I am feeling. My children still need me. I need their help. Maybe there will be a symbiosis some day. ~heavy sigh~ Some day.

Hurting Hearts

My daughter called me this evening to ask why "A" doesn't sit with Bells on the bus any more. Truth be told, I didn't know this. Isabella was obsessed with A and we have had a play date and A came to Bells' birthday party.

When The Girl asked Bells why, all she could say was that A is now sitting with L who is mean. "Is L mean to you, Baby?" "Yes. She makes this face(makes an ugly face) at me.

Although our Bells has come so very far this past year, it is hard to not be able to get the whole story from her. I know I can ask the bus driver and monitor on Monday but this leaves the entire weekend for my daughter to feel badly and fear that her baby is hurting.

Our girl has been going through some changes lately. She is still loving and sweet but she has learned how to throw a wicked tantrum and can shed crocodile tears with the best of them.

On the positive side, she is progressing socially and educationally. We are seeing an improvement in fine motor skills. Her school saw fit to get her physical therapy because, well, she needs it! She falls down a lot and bumps into things. (Yes, we did get her eyes examined.)

Last year, my dear daughter would say, "If only she could tell me what she had for lunch today." This year, our girl can tell you what she had for lunch and who did what during lunch!

Maybe next year we will be hearing what is going on on the school bus in detail from our dear one.

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.

Hmmm...

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