goodfountain

Not every day week is a good day week.

Perhaps it’s the post best birthday ever letdown.

Truthfully, it’s only been a bad three days, but three days of whining and crying feels like forever a week. I am not an amused mother anymore.

Monday and Tuesday were fine. Monday I was gone for 3 hours in the early afternoon so that probably contributed to why the day was fine for me. Tuesday we had a pool party with her preschool class. Of course that day was great - swimming pool, friends, a stop for ice cream. What’s to be unhappy about?

Wednesday is when things started going south. Her last tumbling class ended with her crying and unable to explain why. Later she told me cried because her sticker ripped. Her sticker!!! A sticker bringing on that level of tears was an ominous foreboding.

I wish I could remember the horrid travesties of the rest of the day, but my mind has mercifully blocked them from memory.

Much of Thursday and today was comprised of a lot of not listening to me. So deliberate in her ignoring my requests to stop bad behavior (like ripping open a box of food). This morning she cried when we went outside to play in the back yard. She just wanted me to hug her and she requested to go back inside. Fortunately Ess wasn’t having a great time outside either so she complied. Unless there’s a swimming pool or a sprinkler involved, my girls are not outside girls. We like air conditioning.

The echolalia today was rampant. There is nothing more frustrating than thinking I’m having a legitimate conversation with Chee only to find out that she’s playing the role of Caillou or, in particular today, Caillou’s friend Leo. I will go along with it for awhile, but then I am all echoed out. It made playing any number of games impossible. That’s the other thing. Let’s play [insert game here]! she says to me, only to wander off while I’m getting it down or about 15 seconds into it.

Her obsession with Baby Einstein DVDs is in full force too. Chee was just wild about Baby Einstein in her “younger” days. Once I became aware of the pragmatic aspect of her language delay, I realized that there is nothing conversational about Baby Einstein and I phased them out. I view Baby Einstein in such a new way now. Nothing particularly educational about them beyond vocabulary building. Entertaining, yes. One day they went to live with another family. She was fine with that and never asked for them. Somehow, though, she found them when we moved last year and I’ve let her watch them on occasion again. And now she wants to watch them over and over again. And over. I think it’s time they went to live elsewhere again. Permanently. (For kicks some time I’ll devote an entire post to the many and varied loves of Baby Einstein this house has seen.)

In the midst of all this whining and crying, Chee had two important appointments yesterday. Her 4 year check up with her pediatrician, and her quarterly physical therapy session. The 4 year checkup was fabulous. Chee let herself be examined, she answered all of the doctor’s questions, she was highly agreeable. This appointment was a thousand times better than her three year checkup where the doctor noted that she was totally echolalic and refused physical examination. Not too bad for one year later. There were a couple of shots, which did not go well, but that’s to be expected. Upon reviewing her chart, her pediatrician declared her to look like a typical THREE year old. Um, she’s four, I reminded the doctor. Yes, she said, but she looks like a three year old. (90th percentile for height and weight not withstanding.)

Then on to Physical Therapy where, again, she did quite fabulous. I mentioned to her PT what the pediatrician said about looking like a three year old and she agreed that developmentally Chee reminds her more a three year old than a four year old. And, I’m recalling, her speech therapist says that Chee’s language is that of an early 3 year old than an early four year old.

Hmmm, the wheels start turning in my brain. Could it be that behaviorally she’s more like a 3 year old than a 4 year old too?

Maybe.

She was so very adamant today about buttering her own corn on the cob. My husband didn’t let her and she ran from the room and threw herself down in a heap of tears in the next room. I told her to come back and she could butter her own corn and she was happy. From what I’m reading, the “do it myself” phase generally happens at three. But for a kid who is about a year behind developmentally, maybe that phase is happening now at four. I could give other examples, but this post is already too long.

What this means for me, as the frustrated Mom who lost her own temper a couple of times these past few days, is start treating her like a 3 year old. Forget thinking of her as special needs or sensory sensitive (although those things are still important), but just think of her as a really tall 3 year old. It really makes sense. Last summer, when she turned 3, we had some pretty horrible times. My husband and I used to say we were finally hitting the terrible twos. Now at age 4, it feels like a lot of expected 3 year old behavior is hitting us.

With the rate at which she’s been developing, I’m suspecting hoping praying that we will move through some of this with lightening speed and she can start being the charming girl that all four year olds are.

Yeah right. I hear uproarious laughter from the parents of four year old girls everywhere.

Don’t be fooled by my glib tone into thinking that I am not somewhat obsessively worrying about her being a year behind and wondering when the delay will be less obvious. Remember, I’m a worrier.

Meanwhile, I’m dusting off the special handbook the gods gave me for parenting a three year old and I’m going to adjust my expectations. Wish me luck. Wish us luck.

I think my husband and I are like many of the parents of today’s young children. We think. A lot. We don’t make decisions lightly, and we try our best to do the absolute best for our kids.

From ridding our diets of high fructose corn syrup and only choosing whole grain foods when possible, to limiting (or denying altogether) access to television, to seeking out a balance of well-rounded activities for optimal development - we take our job as parents seriously. To raise healthy, happy children to become healthy, happy adults. Of course there’s an abundance of love and laughter thrown in there. It’s a job raising kids, but it’s a darn fun one.

There was one decision that we especially did not take lightly. The Education of Chee. Last year, before realizing the full scope of Chee’s developmental delays, we decided on a Montessori education. It’s what felt right for our daughter. We looked at a half-dozen schools, talked with several teachers and school administrators, compared and contrasted against other preschools in the area. And with great hope, Chee began preschool last fall at a nearby Montessori preschool.

As I’ve written before, that did not work out. At all. Probably a combination of Chee’s delays (which give her the appearance of being about a year behind) and her Sensory Processing Disorder led to a very frustrating month for her (and her teachers). Resulting, ultimately, in us deciding to pull her out and seek the resources of the public school system. Just like that - bam - we took her out, and the next thing you know she’s in special education preschool. It almost left my head spinning how fast it all happened. There was little research. Just evaluations, interviews and a home visit, the next thing you know we have an IEP and two months after quitting the Montessori preschool, Chee was in a new school.

Even though Chee did very well in her classroom this past year, I can’t help but feel a bit of sadness that the Montessori classroom didn’t work for her. Mostly though I have made peace with it and accept that the special education classroom is where she belongs for now. Mostly.

And then someone makes a random comment, several times, and suddenly we are questioning our path.

Chee’s SLP has suggested, on more than one occasion, that Chee would thrive in a Montessori classroom. That with her learning style and her strong reading abilities, she will excel in that classroom. Suddenly I’m back to my wishful thinking about providing a Montessori education.

My husband and I spent the better part of the last few days, as we have done a time or two already, reevaluating the course we’re on. Should we enroll her in a Montessori preschool in the afternoons? Special needs public preschool in the morning where she has an IEP and the appropriate, necessary therapies and supports, followed by three additional hours of all that is magical about lovely about a Montessori education?

It’s tempting. Really tempting.

The internal debate comes with not knowing Chee’s capabilities. Not knowing how she’s going to do in school - Kindergarten and beyond.

Will she always need supports?

Or will she move past this, develop typical language and social skills and excel in the classroom?

Or will she find a regular classroom frustrating because she’s not challenged?

Would she truly thrive in a Montessori classroom?

Would that be a more suitable environment than where she’s returning this fall?

How does a parent know? How do we, Chee’s parents know what is the right thing to do.

It comes down to this: We don’t know. All we can do is listen to our trusted intuition.

Mine is telling me that Chee does not need to be in school for six hours a day. Three hours in the morning, a lunch break, and three hours in the afternoon. Perhaps it’s not Chee that does not need it, but maybe it’s her Mom who isn’t ready for her to be away from home that much. Either way, it’s what I’m hearing from myself.

There is always the option of choosing Montessori as her primary preschool and then using the resources the school district provides for speech and OT but, if I’m listening to my gut, withdrawing her from special ed preschool is definitely not the right choice. We have a good thing going there and I’m not messing with it.

And here we are, a few conversations later, back to our original plan. This is one of those times that we make our decision based on who Chee is today, and not who she might be in three or four years. It’s tough. Occasional nagging ‘what-if’ thoughts poke at me.

I have two young children, though, and my life is going to be full of nagging ‘what-ifs.’ For many years to come. It’s something I better get used to.

We spent the last two weeks entertaining family, not every day, but most days. A slight detour in the plans and some of the extended family was unable to visit (my grandmother fractured her hip but she’s doing quite well all things considered).

During this time I learned a few things about Chee that I hadn’t quite zeroed in on before. One of those is that Chee knows herself. Knows herself well. Having a same-age cousin visiting created far more opportunity for social interaction than is typical. I would observe Chee play with her cousin for awhile and then go to another room and play by herself. All of M’s best efforts could not persuade Chee to come back till she was ready. Till she’d had time to re-energize. Alone. Often she’d pull me in to their game and want me to play with them. Very often she’d engage me after a time of engaging with M.

One morning a storm canceled our plans to go to the pool, so we opted for an indoor play center. There was another group of kids already there when we arrived. Ess had fallen asleep on the ride over so she was sleeping in my arms in the (quiet) lobby while Chee and M were to go in the main playroom. Chee repeatedly came out to sit by me. And when she did go in the room, she sat right by her aunt and played just by herself. At first this surprised me. Chee is very familiar with this place as she took an art class for sensory kids here. And typically she loves it and asks often to go. I kept telling her, Go inside and play with M. Repeatedly I ushered her back in, only to have her come back out a few minutes later.

When the other group of kids left, she bounced in and was all over the place. Jumping in the ball pit, sliding down the slide, cooking in the ‘kitchen.’ She was herself again. The Chee I’m used to seeing at this place.

I found myself, over the last couple of weeks, telling her to go play with M, go see what M is doing, ask M if she wants to do this or that.

And what Chee was telling me, with her actions rather than her words, was I need time to myself. I need smaller groups. I need my Mom nearby.

With extra family around, and me wanting so hard for Chee to be more social, to show how far she’s come, I pushed her further than she was ready. But the good thing is, she let me know. She knew what she needed, and she went for it. I need space and I need security. Don’t push me before I’m ready.

Which brings me to Dramakinetics. The first week did not go well, the 2nd week went slightly better. It was okay when it didn’t go well when I could solely focus on Chee, but when I have Ess to take care of, it was harder. Much harder. Chee’s crying leads to Ess crying which leads to Chee crying harder (which leads to a nice headache for me). Chee did participate in the last 15-20 minutes, which was an improvement over the previous week, but it took a lot of effort to get there. Was it worth it? I don’t know. I do know I hate quitting things, but I also hate all of us being miserable and starting our week out on such a negative note.

And I have to ask myself, is Chee ready for this? I’m all for pushing her through challenges and helping her overcome her anxiety. But I also need to listen to Chee. She worked through her discomfort with the Tumbling class - marching in there the 2nd week raring to go. Perhaps that’s enough for right now.

Times like this, when I’m so uncertain what is the right thing to do, I need to quiet myself and listen to Chee. She has proven that she knows what she needs.

The brilliant blogger/speech therapist/mom (more I’m sure) Jordan commented on my post yesterday About Autism saying the following (among other things):

I do believe that for some kids, the sensory processing piece is the pivotal issue, and once they get enough help with that, a lot of other pieces fall into place (such as language and a readiness for more age-appropriate learning).

I hope I’m not overstepping, Jordan, by calling out a portion of what you said, but it rang ever so true with me, and also reminded me that I want to pull out my spreadsheets share some of my observations on Chee and her New and Improved Sensory Diet.

You may recall that I had said what a terrific day we had after a morning spent swimming. I have heard (and it has been confirmed several times over) that swimming is terrific sensory input, particularly proprioceptive (heavy work). I have in the past observed that when I routinely engage Chee in some heavy work, she seems to have better concentration and we will see an increase in her spontaneous and conversational language. It’s quite remarkable to tell the truth. Since she’s been in preschool and getting a pretty good Sensory Diet there and at her weekly OT session, I haven’t been diligent in our diet at home. Not to mention that I think the Sensory Diet we had been doing at home has run its course.

I won’t go into the daily minutiae specifics because, let’s face it, it’s not that interesting to anyone but me. And maybe Chee’s occupational therapist.

But I will share the highlights - the New & Improved Sensory Diet is working! Wonderfully!

Swimming is very effective. On days we “swam” (i.e. army crawled back and forth a lot across the pool), she was very well-regulated. Unless it was the weekend. But I think that had more to do with the separation anxiety that I recently talked about. In fact, it was because of our experience at the pool last Sunday that I came to the conclusion that it is indeed separation anxiety, and not Sensory Dysregulation.

The army crawls aren’t the only thing that is effective in the water. So is crashing. Chee came up with that herself. I think her body/nervous system (whatever) knows what it needs. She spent the entire hour and half we were at the pool throwing herself down. A modified Nestea plunge, if you will. (I figured out later that she was falling down like Rachel does at the end of the Silly Pizza Song - if you are a Signing Time fan, you’ll know what I’m talking about.)

As it’s not realistic to go to the pool every day, I had to come up with something new at home. Thus, the Obstacle Horse was born. For some it’s a course, but Chee calls it a horse. And as it’s sooo darn cute, I refuse to correct her.

What seems to be the significant part of the Obstacle Horse is crashing onto cushions. Chee loves it.

We have done three, maybe four, different Obstacle Courses this past week. Always, I’ve included Cushion Crashing. It’s a huge hit. As is jumping into and out of the Hula Hoop, balancing on her belly (on an exercise ball) while digging puzzle pieces out of a bucket of rice (need a less messy version of that), crawling through a tunnel, walking across her homemade balance beam (her balance is so much better than it used to be), stepping (alternating feet) through the homemade “ladder” on the floor, and trampoline jumping. (Not all of these in ONE Course, mind you.)

We’re usually doing the Obstacle Course both in the morning and in the afternoon, but I’m leaving the couch cushions on the floor for her to crash as much she wants (which is often).

However, so as not to burn out on the Obstacle Course, occasionally I’m throwing in a splash of Yoga Kids (she loves this video) and games of Simon Says, where we do lots of things like bear crawls and caterpillar crawls and other Yoga poses from the video.

Results we’ve seen include significantly improved language - spontaneous and conversational - and a much calmer Chee during what is normally the “witching hour” (around dinner time). Also, there is less crying and tantruming when Ess starts acting Ess-like (what you would expect from an 18 month old). More than anything, though, it’s the increased language. The clear sharing of thoughts and feelings. That is Chee’s most significant delay area, so I’m thrilled to see progress there.

I can’t think of any other thing that I can attribute the difference I’ve seen in her this last week. And it kind of confirms my suspicion that Sensory Processing is her biggest ‘issue’ and should remain a priority.

A consistent Sensory Diet has helped her manage a busy week of a cousin visiting, dinner out at crowded, loud restaurant, some unexpected changes in weekend plans. And she’s just plain fun to be around too. I imagine she just feels better too when she doesn’t have to expend so much energy trying to regulate herself.

And you know, I haven’t seen a lot of doinking lately. That makes this Sensory Diet worth its weight in gold.

This past week, I took Ess in to the pediatrician for her 18 month well-baby checkup. We were presented with a new form that I’m sure many of us have heard of - The M-CHAT (Modified Checklist for Autism in Toddlers). This is a diagnostic tool that the AAP is now recommending at the 18-month and 2-year well baby visits. It’s an early screening tool for Autism Spectrum Disorder.

As I was filling it out for Ess, I couldn’t help but think back on how I would have answered those same questions very differently for Chee. So differently, I’m sure, that our pediatrician would have taken one look at it and said, Get thee to a specialist, your daughter may have Autism. I’m convinced, too, that we would have received a diagnosis of PDD-NOS for Chee.

Occasionally I wonder how might things be different for us had Chee received an early ASD diagnosis. She would have started Speech Therapy, perhaps, earlier than age 2 1/2. Then again, had I gone through the Renowned Autism Specialists group at our Children’s Hospital, it would have taken at least a year to get through all the evaluations and appointments and, odds are, therapy wouldn’t have actually started any sooner than it did.

I know the conventional wisdom about Autism is that it’s a lifelong condition, one can’t be cured from and one doesn’t recover from Autism.

But were Chee to be evaluated today by a Specialist it is unlikely she would be diagnosed with ASD. Indeed she was evaluated (but not thoroughly) by a Developmental Pediatrician who said she is positively not on the Spectrum. That’s not to say that she doesn’t have special needs. She still has Sensory Processing Disorder, and she still has a Language Disorder, or perhaps just Unusual Language Development. I don’t know what the right set of words is.

A lot of folks say that kids don’t recover from Autism. But what if some kids do? What if there’s such a thing as a Developmental Autism (Chee’s speech therapist first tossed that phrase out to me)? If no two kids look the same on the Spectrum, can the same not be said for Development within, an off of, the Spectrum?

Maybe Chee wasn’t cured (cure was never a word in my vocabulary), but perhaps she was educated out of it. Or perhaps she never truly exhibited those traits (although I don’t think my memory is failing me - there were many autistic traits). Or, perhaps, as the name implies, she has Pervasive Developmental DELAYS. Delays - meaning happening later. Perhaps she just developed out of the early symptoms.

Whatever it is (and really does it even matter), I think I’m just reacting to a couple of different things. One, reading that M-CHAT and seeing how many questions I would have answered for Chee in the negative (or positive depending on the wording); and two, reading repeatedly on blogs and in the media about how Autism is a lifelong condition that one does not outgrow.

That too blanket of a statement for me, and I’m never comfortable speaking in the absolutes about child development -whether it’s about Autism or anything else.

Chee has never been one to talk about her feelings. When she’s upset, she cries or whines or, unfortunately, throws herself on the ground and kicks and flails. As with most Hyperlexics and other children on the Spectrum, her language has been slower to come. We’ve often wondered what’s actually going on inside that head when she’s crying, and have yearned for when she can express her feelings, be it sadness, frustration or anger.

It’s starting to happen. Chee’s big into telling us that she’s crying, that she already cried, or that she’s going to cry. At first that was as far as she would go. She’d just say, I’m crying. We prompted her with Why questions and gave her various choices of why she might be crying. Are you sad? Are you angry? Do you miss Mommy? Are you upset that Ess took your [coveted object of the moment]?

Because she’s still somewhat echolalic, and has an incredible memory, we are careful when giving her choices. Careful not to be too repetitive with them, and careful not to be too specific. We change up the choices often as we don’t want her just to tell us the reason she’s crying is one of the choices we’ve given her one too many times. And we’re being very descriptive of our own feelings on a frequent basis. I’ll say, I feel sad that [cousin] M went back to Grandma’s today. I’m going to miss her. And of course, I’ll pair that up with my saddest face. I also tell her when I feel frustrated and angry. Happy and content. I’m not looking for a response, just modeling how to recognize and communicate feelings.

I think that’s starting to pay off. Chee is now using the word because. I think it was just last week that I heard her use the word because for the first time (appropriately in context).

She will make a sad face, and not even cry, just a sad face, and say, Mommy, I’m crying. When asked, or sometimes right away, she’ll tell me she’s crying (for example) because Daddy’s at work. Usually she’ll say she’s sad or upset. We’re still working on communicating the Whys.

However, I’m noticing that often times she will tell me she cried at some place and she’s referring to a previous experience. She told us a few days ago that she cried at the birthday party.

Why did you cry? I ask.

Because of Bob, she tells us. And then she goes on to tell us, with a little prompting and choices, that Bob yelled at her and scratched her face. So those scratches were from Bob! Fortunately we’ve heard no other stories about Bob and Chee at school, so I’m left to think it was a one-time thing that happened.

The other day driving by Lowe’s Chee said, I cried at Lowe’s.

Why did you cry?

Because Daddy and Ess were gone.

What she’s remembering is a few weeks ago when the four of us went to Lowe’s and Chee said in the van on the way there that she had to use the potty. So we parked and she and I got out and hurried on ahead to get to the bathroom. Her Daddy was left to get Ess out of the van (which always means putting her shoes back on). When she saw that Daddy and Ess were not with us, she completely fell apart. Dropped to the ground kicking and screaming. Looked like a temper tantrum, but I don’t think it was.

I think it’s separation anxiety. Chee never went through typical age-appropriate separation anxiety. Honestly, it seemed she couldn’t care less if we came and went. Over the last year, as she’s become more attuned to our comings and goings, she has started to get upset about it.

It seems to be the worst when we’re out together, the four of us, and we decide to separate (as at Lowe’s). To her, suddenly Daddy and Ess were gone. Because she was pretty dramatic in announcing her need to use the potty, we assumed it was urgent business. So, without much explanation, I hustled us off toward the store. Halfway toward the door, she turns around and does not see Daddy and Ess and bam! Separation anxiety. Meltdown in the parking lot. Nearly inconsolable.

It feels like this is a typical-but-delayed developmental stage. All kids go through separation anxiety. Chee has been delayed in everything else, it stands to reason that she is delayed in her emotional development as well.

However, when you add in a difficulty in expressing feelings, in communicating in general, the result is a disproportionate-looking severe temper tantrum.

Now that she has told me she cried because Daddy and Ess were gone, we’ve begun talking about feeling scared. I’m crossing my fingers that as her language continues to develop, as she continues to develop emotionally, this separation anxiety will be more of a blip in our schedule than a mega disruption to an afternoon outing.

Chee started both of her summer classes this week. Monday we had Dramakinetics and today was Tumbling. They both started off the same, but ended quite differently.

At Dramakinetics, she would not go in the classroom. She was able to brace herself while grabbing the door frame and unless I wanted to be really physical with her, I couldn’t get us through the door. I try to avoid being overly physical with her. It’s never met with any measure of success.

We spent the whole hour in the hallway, watching the class through the windows. We discussed the kids in the room - how many boys, how many girls, the colors of their shirts, the teacher. She told me she didn’t want to go in because she didn’t like the kids. I asked if there there were too many kids. She said, No, there’s four.

Toward the end she started peeking in and just as the teacher said it was time to sing the good-bye song, in she went. And said good-bye to everybody. Even hugged the teacher.

I’m willing to bet with a high degree of confidence that she’ll march in the room next week like she’s an old pro. I’m finally seeing that pattern emerge. That the first time she does something she is reluctant and afraid, but the 2nd time, she’s all about it. As if the fears never happened.

Today’s tumbling class started out similarly. She was supposed to go sit on the blanket with the other 3 yr olds. She stood next to the blanket. I stopped to tell one of the teachers that she has Sensory Processing Disorder and will likely be a bit overwhelmed by the group at first. At that point, while I’m holding Ess as we’re getting ready to go Parent/Child tumbling class, Chee has her hands around my neck and is trying to climb on me. She’s not crying (yet) but she’s got the sad, downturned lips. Tears are coming.

This teacher, God bless her, said she has seen this many times, and is very reassuring. She offered me the choice of going into class with Chee or just letting her (teacher) take Chee and although she’ll cry for a few minutes, she’ll likely get over it. She said she’s done it many times and is more than comfortable just picking her up.

What the hell, I thought. Let’s try something new.

I told Chee she was going to go with Miss Ethnic-name-I-can’t-quite-recall while I went to Ess’ tumbling class. The teacher scooped her up and I walked off to Ess’ class. By the time I got there and looked back at Chee, she was happily bouncing on the trampoline.

And that was that.

Afterwards I was told she did fine, no tears, and had fun. Chee told me all the things she did in class, including, I cried.

There’s a time and a place for both approaches, I think. At tumbling it was easy to let her go off with someone, even though upset, because I knew she was going to dive right into some fun sensory experiences like jumping, rock climbing, sliding and crashing!

At Dramakinetics, it was all about movement and music and there was time spent sitting in a circle. Music can be very emotional for Chee. She needs time to process and acclimate. In general Dramakinetics is going to be more challenging for her, but the right kind of challenging.

As an aside, I have my hands full with Ess. She was a riot during her tumbling class. Her first ever ‘formal’ class. Determined to climb UP the slide (something I’ve never seen her try at home or any other playground), she was chock full of stubbornness at being redirected away from it again and again. I have never seen her so relentless before. And just when she finally was okay with trying some of the other equipment, it was time to move to the area next door to do something new.

This she was not okay with. She kept running up to the gate shouting , “Open gate! Open gate!”

Neither was she okay with the bubble machine at the end. Bubbles are great, Ess loves bubbles. But she was, truly, devastated that she herself was not blowing the bubbles. She took one look at the little machine spewing forth all those bubbles, crossed her arms, fell to the ground, and cried, I wan buuuubbbbbblessssss.

Oy, these girls keep me hopping.

I’m a bit wary of the next two weeks. There are many happenings.

We have family visiting for two weeks. My sister and her niece, M, who is four. They will be staying with us part of the time and with my Mom part of the time.

We will have other family visiting during that time, including a 2nd cousin who is 5. They will be staying with us.

M loves Chee. And Chee loves M. M is good for Chee. She prods her into playing games and forces her to engage. I will have to pay attention the next few days to make sure Chee gets the space she needs. She loves to play with M, but she needs space now again. M, not so much. M is a social butterfly. A party girl at heart. And also the life of the party. Chee, not so much.

Although, I have to say, Chee held her own very well today at a (hot and crowded) butterfly show. And for two hours playing in the backyard. Lots of great language, playing, pretending, and she took breaks when she needed it. And it may have helped that I led us in a fabulous game of Simon Says, where Simon made everyone do lots of heavy work like bear walks and wheelbarrow walks.

After talking with Chee’s OT on Monday, I’m stepping up the proprioceptive input during the day and going to try for every 2 hours to get a little heavy work of some sort in. Chee’s new love of the game Simon Says helps this endeavor quite a bit. Monday she pushed the grocery cart, full of groceries and Ess, all around the store. Now that was seriously heavy work if ever there was any.

I truly love having M visit. I often wish she lived in town as she’s the perfect playmate for Chee. So while I’m a bit wary of how things will go, and I’m perhaps a little too conscientious that Chee doesn’t get overwhelmed by it all, I’m happy to have a safe playmate for Chee. A close-in-age cousin who loves Chee and wants to be her best friend. I have no real worries about them playing together, and I don’t feel like I need to monitor them.

These two cousins make great pals.

I have a dear friend who likes to tease me that I have spreadsheets detailing all the analyzing I do of my kids. Particularly so when it comes to sleep. But, hey, when your kid gives up her nap at 19 months, you’ll do anything to try to find a loophole in her sleep needs and reinstate that nap. Unfortunately, no amount of analyzing worked and Chee’s nap went bye-bye.

While I don’t actually have spreadsheets, per se, I have been known to keep a log of something or other to see if it’s affecting Chee. In addition to monitoring her sleep (I am a firm believer that adequate sleep is important to overall development), I have also kept a food diary to see if any foods affects her language or behavior or … anything. Couldn’t find any connections there.

In the last year I have jotted down observations on sensory-related behaviors to look for patterns for when she is showing more sensory-seeking behaviors or sensory-avoiding ones. That has been useful. I figured out how effective swinging was for calming her down. I noticed how heavy work (proprioceptive input) yielded more coordination and better concentration.

The time has come to start doing some more note-taking.

Today was the complete opposite of yesterday. The entire day was smooth sailing, no stress, just a little sibling bickering, good independent play time, quality time playing together (with me) and no pleas for the TV. When I talk about things being a bit, um, challenging, I’m generally referring to Chee. The things that Ess does that are challenging are just your typical age-appropriate toddler stuff. Chee is the one that gets me frazzled.

So what was different?

It could be one of two things, or both. First, we went swimming this morning. For about an hour. Maybe an hour and 15 minutes. When we got to the pool, we played in the water for 30 minutes. Splashing, pretend-diving, a lot of floating. Then Ess wanted a snack and Chee happily complied. She sat on her pool chair and quietly ate a snack. She then put the towel over her face and rested for a few minutes. When Ess was done with her snack, Chee asked if she could go back in the water (she asked! she didn’t just take off). We played for another 30 minutes and then it was time to go. Both girls were done. Ess was super tired and in desperate need of nap. And Chee claims she hurt her knee falling down. I didn’t see that happen nor are there any scrapes of proof.

Ess was asleep before we got home. Chee watched a half hour show and then we had lunch together. Just the two of us. Then we played in the playroom for awhile (her new favorite game is “restaurant” where she takes my order and then serves me a cupcake no matter what I request). Then she hung out in the kitchen with me while I cleaned the fridge some more (STILL not done with that). She played with kitchen stuff on the floor and also did some drawing. And she helped me with laundry. Once Ess was up, they played together great as well as played independently. There wasn’t any of that destructive stuff that drives me bonkers - ripping up paper, knocking things off counters, fiddling with stuff. And not once did she ask for the TV to be turned on.

So the two things that were different are 1) the seriously great proprioceptive input from swimming; and 2) the quality one-on-one time with Mom.

My theory is that she was very well-regulated from the swimming. What I don’t know how important was the Mommy time. I think it is important, but I’m not sure if it’s enough.

Time to pay attention and make some observations. I’ve been theorizing that we need a change in our Sensory Diet at home but I’ve been remiss in discussing it with her OT to get some ideas. Summer may just provide THE solution for that. Swimming, swimming and more swimming.

I’ve got the spreadsheets fired up. I love a good project.

Today is Chee’s last day of preschool. The last day of the first year of her formal education.

And what a year it’s been.

Chee’s very first month of preschool was at a Montessori school. I was very excited and hopeful about Montessori, believing it to be the right fit for my special daughter. Despite her language disorder, I still felt like it was the right choice for her. How wrong I was.

Most definitely not the right fit for Chee. After a very stressful month for me, and undoubtedly for her as well, I made the difficult decision to pull her out. I had not yet begun the process with our local school district, and as such had no idea what I was going to do. All I could think about was how we had failed preschool. Preschool! If we couldn’t get through preschool, what hope did we have?

Of course, things turned around significantly. Special needs preschool was suggested, I checked my ego at the door, and off we went.

It’s been a very positive experience so far. When she began preschool the first week of December, she wasn’t potty trained; the song Happy Birthday reduced her to tears; she could answer very few WH- questions; she didn’t converse with us; she didn’t initiate playing with other kids; she wouldn’t participate in group activities (e.g., Circle Time). There’s probably more that I’m forgetting.

Now she’s doing all of those things. I can’t give all the credit to preschool, though, as she’s been in private Speech and Occupational Therapies too, and I’ve worked with her at home a tremendous amount. Where preschool has been significant though is the social aspect of it. She has 11 peers in her class with whom to to learn how to be friends. She’s in a supportive environment that prompts her and guides her in the nuances of communicating with her peers. She also has opportunities to grow more comfortable with larger group settings. She’s not there yet, large groups still make her uncomfortable, and that may take awhile. With preschool, she is frequently exposed to large groups which is critical to helping her become comfortable with them. That’s not something I could do easily at home.

Last week there was an Ice Cream social at Chee’s school and a small ceremony for the preschool graduates going on to Kindergarten. The teacher said kind words about each child and talked about what they were like compared to the first year they were there. It was heartwarming and inspirational to hear how this one didn’t have any friends the first year, and how that one wouldn’t talk to anyone, but now both have several good friends and talk to everybody.

Hearing that gets me excited about the next school year. I admit to having very high hopes for Chee. Hopes that she will initiate and sustain conversation with her peers. Hopes that she will share an experience from her day at school. Hopes that she will learn to identify and share her feelings.

But first we have summer! We’ve got a fun schedule planned with Dramakinetics and Tumbling and playdates and pool dates. Cousins visiting in June and a Beach Vacation in July. And, very possibly, her first REAL birthday party with friends.

Chee’s been singing a little song the past few days.

Summer’s coming, summer’s coming
We can’t wait! We can’t wait!
School is almost over; school is almost over
3 more days; 3 more days.

Indeed, we can’t wait.