In the Meantime We Got it Hard
December 12, 2007
Noah's occupational therapy has been...not going well. To put it mildly. We've made so little progress -- OT arrives at door, Noah bolts, spends entire session wailing from under the dining room table because he. Does. NOT. Want. To. Ride. On. A. Towel. Christ. Almighty. -- so his therapist suggested moving his sessions to the EI center and enrolling him in a couple structured class-type things.
Today was the first of those structured class-type things. The Lunch Bunch, they call it. For kids with oral motor problems and sensory food issues. On paper, it sounds lovely -- a little circle time, feeding plastic food to a puppet, then setting the table and eating some lunch, cleaning up and a story. Every other week the kids make the lunch; other weeks you bring it from home. One food they like and another they don't, which they will then be encouraged to lick or kiss or even just to TOUCH it while putting it in the clean-up bucket.
So it's a lot of kids who eat crackers and shriek at the sight of lunch meat, basically. Our kind of people.
But...oh God. I don't even know where to begin. There are no words for how badly this class went.
Noah screamed. And screamed. And. Screamed. He screamed when asked to sit on a little chair. He screamed when people sang. He screamed at the puppet and he screamed at the plastic fruit and he screamed at the sink and the plastic plates and his apple slices.
He wept and clung to me and then smashed his head into my face. The little girl next to us was obligingly kissing her ham and the little boy next to her was using a spoon to eat some yogurt and before I could help it, I was sobbing too. Big fat tears that I couldn't stop or hide because hello! I am the biggest failure in this room and I don't know how to make him stop screaming and sit in the chair and my face hurts now and while I am really, really heartbroken over how hard this is for him, JESUS CHRIST, it's a fucking CHAIR that you SIT ON, WHAT THE FUCK.
I wanted to bundle him up and go back to the car, to hug him and tell him he never has to go back.
I also wanted to leave him there and go back to the car and drive far, far away from him and stay there for days.
Instead, we stayed. I pulled myself together and wiped up my mascara smudges while everybody kindly looked the other way. Noah threw himself down on a mat and screamed some more. We managed to get him to toss his uneaten apple slices in the clean-up bucket, even though the reward for cleaning up (you get to go read a book! and sit on more chairs!) resulted in more screaming.
45 minutes and several burst eardrums later, it was over. Noah was red, sweaty and tear-stained and I was filling out a form that asked me to comment on the day's activities, which ended up being a lot of Not Applicables and HA HA HA HAAAAAAAAAAAAs.
We had a one-on-one OT session right after, during which Noah was an angel. Of course. He jumped on a trampoline and rode on a little car and rolled around in a pile of pillows. I sat there and couldn't stop the awkward, shaken crying as I struggled to tell his therapist that really, I swear to God, I'm a good mother. I discipline, he listens to me, we get compliments on his behavior from strangers, he's loved and happy, we just don't have a lot of structure to our days and I've been feeling kind of blue lately and my best mom friend is moving to California in two months and I just found out yesterday and I think I should go back to work but we want another baby but I can't get pregnant but God, I have no business having another baby, 20 minutes ago I was ready to slap the shit out of the one I already have.
(OK, I don't think I quite said all of that out loud. At least I hope I didn't.)
She told me it will get easier. That some kids are just like this, that we'll figure it out and get him used to structure and stimuli and other children breathing his air and daring to sing in his presence. That yes, clearly his sensory problems are affecting his ability to deal with life and chairs, but everyone here understands. They know he's struggling because their kids struggle too. They've all been that mother -- the one with the out-of-control wigged-out Jekyll-and-Hyde child, terrified that everyone is judging you and your bratty kid and why doesn't she DO something to MAKE him stop crying -- and anyway, her point was that it will get easier. Some day, at some point.
But probably not before next Wednesday at 11:30 am in room C7. See you there. Bring earplugs.
Oh sweetie, would you like someone to come pet your hair for you and tell you it will be all better? I'll do it, just say the word!
Oh, Amy. . . I haven't been where you are, so I can't begin to fully understand it, but it doesn't sound like a fun place to be. But I do believe this: Noah is a great kid, you & Jason are great parents, and everything will work out just fine.
Believe them. The other parents DO understand and have been there. I hope it will get easier for you soon. My now 5 1/2 year old still wigs out over completely weird things that you can't explain to other people, but mostly she's good. She's a dream at school, but I lived through some incredibly hard times as well. Hang in there and sorry about the Mom friend. I just lost my best one too. :(
Oh wow, Amy. I'm so sorry about all of it. Thanks for sharing this with us. Life can be so hard sometimes. Ugh.
It's okay to want to slap your kid. It's okay to get angry with people you love more than life itself.
I know this is frustrating. My boss/friend has a 2 year old who goes to a play group 2 mornings a week. Has been doing it for 4 months now, and every morning is still the child flinging backward onto the floor crying "nooooooo" and then refusing to participate in the activities.
I don't know. I probably was a bad mother, because I could not have stuck with it like she does. Like you are. You've got courage, Amy.
Life can really suck sometimes. I hope that writing about it helped a bit. I wish you all the best.
It is not a sign of bad mothering to sometimes want to give your child away to gypsies.
And I am losing all of my mom friends, because I am the one moving to another state. I feel for ya.
I think we always think strangers are thinking worse of us than they actually do. Ya think?
I'm def. not an expert, being that I don't have kids, but I just wanted to add my name to the list of your supporters! It was only a couple of days ago that you said Noah wasn't feeling well, so his being sick probably didn't lend itself to wanting to participate or be happy at the 'play group'. Man, sometimes when I feel sick *I* want to scream and cry at the thought of sitting in a chair and talking to other people. People suck when you're feeling sick!
The therapist is right, the other mothers there understand and have been there - heck, those of us 'out there' who don't have kids, a lot of us understand too! We know that you hate the sound of your kid crying as much -and more!- than we do!
Hang in there, Amy! He'll grow out of it!
Oh gosh. I'm sorry. I don't know anything about what you're dealing with, but it sounds really rough.
:( Feeling for you both.
I'm sorry, sweetie. Trust me, there have been times that I've said, out loud, "Goblin King, Goblin King..." :)
We all have those moments.
And as a specialist, I can tell you that the therapist is right - we all do understand. And, we've seen worse! :)
So, don't let it get to you. Just know that it's a work in progress and you and Noah are going to get through this.
hugs.
Oh, Amy. Hugs to you. I've been following you ever since before you got pregnant with Noah, and your journey has been an amazing one. I know at times like this it doesn't help, but look at all you've accomplished together already.
Hopefully there are some cool moms in the group you're attending now that can help you out - fun, concerned moms like you who are just doing their best for their awesome kids.
Hugs to you & Noah and prayers that an upswing is on the way.
I'm so sorry things are so hard for you right now. I know there's nothing I can do except say that (1) you are a damn good mom, and would be a great mother to another child, and (2) every single parent on the face of the earth has wanted to sell their children to passing gypsies at least once. It's a completely human response, and doesn't make you a bad mother.
I hope things get easier for you, somehow, some way.
You are doing great. Great great great. Great-y McGreat Pants.
So very great.
These struggles and hardships will bring beautiful things, I just know it.
And I'm sure I can speak for all of us - we're not judging you here, either.
First, a big huge hug to you because you stayed and got through it even though it was hard.
Next week will be hard too. But it truly does get easier. I struggled getting my son into structured activities (he's got sensory issues too) and our EI therapist just told me to keep at it.
What worked for us, was taking ME out of the equation. He wouldn't sit in chairs for me. He wouldn't even sit on my lap for a storytime. So I started sending him to a school program two mornings a week (8 kids - 3 teachers)- half the kids are typical and half have issues like my kid (or downs, CP, etc). It worked wonders.
If there is anything like that available to Noah, I really recommend it. He was sitting in chairs within a few weeks, drinking out of an open cup, playing near other kids (still won't make eye contact). He still won't touch/eat a lot of foods but he sees other kids doing it which makes him at least consider it.
Its so frustrating to have a child that isn't typical but he really is coming a long way so fast. It just takes time.
Ditto, Thora!
I saw you and Noah at lunch yesterday (in Bethesda) and he was an angel and even cuter than his pictures. I desperately wanted to say hello and introduce myself but I thought that might be weird. Ironically I was having lunch with my best mom friend friend who is moving away too. There is alot going on this time of year so I am sure you are just more stressed out than usual and your patience is about shot.
I saw you and Noah at lunch yesterday (in Bethesda) and he was an angel and even cuter than his pictures. I desperately wanted to say hello and introduce myself but I thought that might be weird. Ironically I was having lunch with my best mom friend friend who is moving away too. There is alot going on this time of year so I am sure you are just more stressed out than usual and your patience is about shot.
Wow. You are a GREAT mom. Seriously. You handled it. What else can anyone ask for?
love you. that is all.
I know it is hard today and will probably continue to be hard for awhile. But eventually it will end and he will sit in a chair quite happily. You will look back on these days when he is a teenager and go, I can't believe THAT stressed me out. Hang in there. You are doing a great job. It is very obvious that he is loved and cared for. As for going back to work, that is interesting. What are you looking at doing? If your life is anything like mine, you will go back to work and immediately get pregnant. It seems as soon as you start to move on to something then the thing you've been waiting on happens. Kind of like when your phone only rings when you are in the bathroom philosophy.
I can't pretend I know what you're going through, but I really am good with hugs.
Sending some your way, for both of you xxxxxxx (or is it 'ooooo'? I get confused Never mind, you get both!)
Just wow. That must have sucked big hairy donkey balls.
Your strength at not turning tail and running for the hills is inspiring.
You also have to imagine that some of those other kids have had those days, you just weren't there to see it. Next week it might be someone else's turn.
I'm sorry so many things are hitting you at the same time. It sounds like a craptacular week that needs liberal helpings of wine or Nutella, or heck, both. (Sorry. Nutella's my thing... maybe not so much yours.)
Great big hugs
I don't know if this is helpful, but when I was that age and a little older, my parents tried to bring me to things like ballet classes and gymnastics, and I would pitch the same kind of fit. I actually very distinctly remember just being terrified and shy and wanting to be anywhere but there. And my mom gave in to my screaming, because, yeah, hard to deal with, heartbreaking. But now, looking back, I wish she'd made me stick it out, because I would maybe not still be as shy as I am today, and maybe I'd know how to dance. You stuck it out. That was a gift to him that will pay dividends later.
Sometimes I think 'good enough' parenting simply means not killing and eating your own young. Not that you want to do that every day, or every month, or even every year.
It is just that when those days do happen, you are successful just to keep Slappy McSlappy hand in your pocket.
Hey:
Baby J
will give you a personal shout out if you like - I guess he heard you calling him by name.
I was nodding and ready to tell you that my heart really hurts for you right now and then I got to the part about your best mom friend moving to California and then my head exploded and I have a few choice words for that one. And I'm really hoping that you have some other best mom friend because now I'm all teary eyed.
My son was in the EXACT same kind of therapy. It took him a few sessions to get into the swing of it (eys, I ws once the mother with the kid that would not stop screaming) but once he got used to it it was great. My boy went from eating almost nothing to now eating a pretty good range of things.
Stick with it. It will get better and it will be so worth it. Know that even when you find youself thinking "When does he stop kissing the food and start eating it?" It's worth it.
I know this is all so hard to get through, but you are doing the right thing by getting him therapy and help while he is so young. I deal with children every day who should have had that kind of help when they were toddlers and now as elementary school age children, need much more extensive help. It will get easier and he will get better. You are doing a great job.
You just broke my heart a little bit. Hang in there Amy.
A bit of a broken record here, but it will get better. If Noah's sensory issues include transition/newness issues, as my son's (and my own) do, just getting used to the facility will take a bit. But once he does, I bet you'll see tremendous changes.
I have nothing useful, I'm just thinking of you all.
Ah, Amy, I'm so sorry. That sounds really rough. He's a great little guy, and you WILL get this sorted out. Just hang in there! *hugs*
He's still perfect.
Amy, I so get this. For the first, I don't know exactly but it feels like SIX MONTHS in my mind of PT KayTar JUST SCREAMED. She screamed when she saw the therapist arrived. She screamed when she saw the therapist move. She screamed if the therapist looked at her. Forget actually doing any sort of therapy, we put on Blue's Clues and hoped she didn't have an aneurysm from all the SCREAMING.
But everyone is right, it does get better. It will get better. It will be a good thing. You aren't a bad mother. At all.
Hi,
I really love your blog.
Have recently discovered blogging and always end up at yours (1 year old son sitting on my lap...who knows where the spelling and continuity of this will go).
I initially loved your blog because your son looks so much like mine. Blonde curls...happy face.
Operative word...happy face...any one who looks at his pictures on here can see that he is happy. Take a look back again. Through your tears and his,....you knew that you had a happy kid...well, not at that precise moment...you know what I mean.
I am a teacher of the Deaf. I have been signing for quite some time and teach in Sign. I commend you for working with your son as you do and I am rooting for another....you are a good mama...you'll make another babe just as happy as Noah.
My son is babbling which means he agrees with me.
Take care.
Thanks for your blog.
Oh Amy. I can't relate to the SPD issue, but I can relate to the incessant screaming for no reason. And I most certainly can relate to the aforementioned wanting to "slap the shit" out of a child. You aren't alone, dear. Please know that. I wish I could hang out with you and I would listen to Noah scream and totally not judge you. So long as you didn't judge me for my kids still being in their pajamas. At supper.
Oh, you are a brave little toaster. My little one is still too little for me to know anything about the speech issues (although I am growing impatient for mama), but I know the incessant screaming and the desire to bolt all too well. Good for you for sticking it out.
I don't pretend to know what you are going through, but it still hurts to read about it. Sometimes you have to wonder what was going through his head. Maybe it had nothing to to with chairs and singing and apple slices. Maybe he knew where he was and what the point was and he knows he doesn't like being dragged around on a towel or having his face massaged with a duckie washcloth. Like when your pets go to the vet. They just KNOW. Was it the same lady that comes to your house? Maybe the sight or sound of her voice scares the shit out of him. I don't know. But I'm sure it will get better with time.
Aw man, I really wanna give you a hug after reading that. Next time I see a little two year old and think "yeah, that's what I want!", I'll remember how lucky I am to be able to lock my cat out of the room when he's being loud.
xoxo
I'm just glad you were able to get a diagnosis and set up the therapy sessions when you did. The mothers in the OT class know what you're going through, and though it's a small comfort, it must be better to know you're among empathizers than to be out on some random playground with people who have no idea what you're dealing with. So yay for therapy. It's the place where Noah will learn to be better, and that's a good thing.
Poor guy. Give him an extra big hug for me, because he made it through that trauma. And also, give yourself an extra long bath, because YOU made it through that trauma. You're a great mother. Don't ever let yourself doubt that.
You are an awesome mom. This is hard, definitely, but things will improve. This too shall pass, you know? And, to repeat: you are an awesome mom.
That almost made me cry, too...because of all the memories that came flooding back of birthday parties where I drove home with sunglasses on so I could hide the tears from my 2 year old who had just been such a wall-to-wall handful. And I am here to tell you, now that he's 9, it really does get better. Honestly. I tell every mom of a 2 year old having a fit in public to hang in there because I was there and I can tell you it will not be this hard forever.
Consider yourself hugged, Amy.
You know, sometimes this raising kids stuff feels like having your heart ripped out of your chest with a dull knife. The love and the worry is just overwhelming. You just want to fast forward to find out how the hell they turn out.
Hang in there and know that the internets are praying and thinking about you.
Me: Gets frustrated with the cat when he wants to cuddle right on top of the very cerebral book I am reading. Wonders if I should really try to make the adjustment to having a kid who will be all the more demanding when I want to, you know, read, etc.
You: Mother of the Year for toughing it out, and sharing this with us (from moms, to future moms, to no-the-hell-way-will-I-have-kids), and doing what's best for Noah just by being his mom, however many headbutts and tear-inducing trials that may entail.
Oi, Amy my heart goes out to you and Noah.
I'm really sorry. That sounds like a truly horrible day. Wish I could give you a big hug.
oh dear, that sounds very tramatic, you described the day so well. It must get easier, stay with it! Val