The last few days have been funny and not so funny.
First, a little update on how I have been feeling. Oh yeah, I don't use those words. Luckily Scott (my doc) and Karen know the magic cures for illnesses. His never taste as yummy but they both have helped me heal. Actually, I am finally starting to feel alive again, and although I tire even easier than normal, I can even leave the house for short times.
So Robert has been doing everything and doing a great job of it. But it was Tommy's "Star Student Week" and we only did the minimum. That was not okay with Tommy. He told us that he wanted to bring a poster and have Dada come and "prescribe" (describe?) the pictures on the poster. So I emailed his teacher and got the week changed. A narrowly avoided tragedy.
Yesterday I was holding my phone while walking through the kitchen. I was not holding or doing anything else but my hands are shaky and weak since the stroke and my phone just fell. The screen shattered. Unusable shattered. $250.00 to fix shattered. Great, I can just take that from the piles of money I have just lying around. Oh, I don't have those. Merry Christmas to me. And Happy Valentines, Anniversary...
I went to the eye doctor yesterday. I really like Doctor Patel. He asked Jain to spell her name and was very pleased that it was an Indian spelling. So after that, the two of them were good pals and she even got him to give her the good candy. Anyway, I got my tear duct plugged. He explained that the duct acts as a drain like a sink and keeps normal eyes from constantly weeping. My eye barely produces any tears so plugging it may help it from feeling so dry all the time. Keep your fingers crossed. During the quick procedure, he told me a couple of times about stinging or pressure I may feel. Um, I don't feel anything.
After, we had to go to Sam's Club. It was sample day so Tommy asked if he could get some "examples." How could I say no to that?
After all that, I fell asleep last night and didn't even stir until Aleq ran in to my room AFTER church. That makes 3 weeks in a row that I have missed because I have been sick. Cough Syrup with Codeine (I cough all night without it) may have had something to do with today. I am feeling it. Going to church is like filling a car with gas. I need the spiritual nourishment I get there. I always feel stronger and happier after going. I love learning and thinking of Christ. I miss it. I'll start resting up and preparing for next week. I'll start setting my alarm earlier and earlier. have "getting ready" drills, doing extra push ups, cutting out soda etc. I am in training.
But I'll start training tomorrow, I need a nap.
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Angels
This post will be short because I am sick. Really sick. I have Pneumonia once again. My doc says my chest x-ray looks no better than a month ago so I am on a tougher antibiotic. Most of the time when I have this I bounce back after a few days but that has not been the case this time. I have been in bed for this whole past week. I even turned down shopping with Karen! Her husband said he knew it was bad when he heard that.
But WOW!
My mom was able to spend 3 days at my house driving me to the doctors office, cleaning, cooking, taking kids places, doing Jain's hair, etc. When I finally ventured out of my bed, I found snacks for the kids, laundry soap, and even tapioca pudding made just for me.
Roberts parents came here both Thursday and Friday and made my kids lunch and cleaned and let me just sleep.
Karen has brought me dinner, brought me dessert, made me dessert, checked on me every day, driven my boys to school and was the secretary who passed along messages to her husband and would then give me his medical advice.
My visiting Teachers have been unreal, yet again. Texts, calls, meals, prayers...
My kids are truly a blessing. I have been sternly told by my 6 year old that I was not to get up, they have brought water and juice to me, have sweetly snuggled and watched T.V. with me (Phineas and Ferb is quite funny) and have generally taken care of me. Aleq even decides when I have had enough and takes the others downstairs.
And of course, Robert. He makes me so happy. He does so much and never complains. I think it is much harder on him than he admits. He puts up with my coughing all night, gets the kids off to school, arranges sitters or help for me every morning before work, then comes home and does the job of two people every night. And every night we lie in bed and quote MASH lines or he tells me stupid things they said or did at work (I'm pretty sure it's like a college dorm there complete with juvenile pranks) and he never stops amazing me. He is totally exhausted but still manages to have the energy to make me laugh. How could I ever really deserve him?
I am reminded once again that although I am just one person, God loves me and my family and works through others to bring us peace. Not always quiet, but peace.
Oh, I believe there are angels among us
Sent down to us from somewhere up above
They come to you and me in our darkest hours
To show us how to live, to teach us how to give
To guide us with the light of love
Alabama
But WOW!
My mom was able to spend 3 days at my house driving me to the doctors office, cleaning, cooking, taking kids places, doing Jain's hair, etc. When I finally ventured out of my bed, I found snacks for the kids, laundry soap, and even tapioca pudding made just for me.
Roberts parents came here both Thursday and Friday and made my kids lunch and cleaned and let me just sleep.
Karen has brought me dinner, brought me dessert, made me dessert, checked on me every day, driven my boys to school and was the secretary who passed along messages to her husband and would then give me his medical advice.
My visiting Teachers have been unreal, yet again. Texts, calls, meals, prayers...
My kids are truly a blessing. I have been sternly told by my 6 year old that I was not to get up, they have brought water and juice to me, have sweetly snuggled and watched T.V. with me (Phineas and Ferb is quite funny) and have generally taken care of me. Aleq even decides when I have had enough and takes the others downstairs.
And of course, Robert. He makes me so happy. He does so much and never complains. I think it is much harder on him than he admits. He puts up with my coughing all night, gets the kids off to school, arranges sitters or help for me every morning before work, then comes home and does the job of two people every night. And every night we lie in bed and quote MASH lines or he tells me stupid things they said or did at work (I'm pretty sure it's like a college dorm there complete with juvenile pranks) and he never stops amazing me. He is totally exhausted but still manages to have the energy to make me laugh. How could I ever really deserve him?
I am reminded once again that although I am just one person, God loves me and my family and works through others to bring us peace. Not always quiet, but peace.
Oh, I believe there are angels among us
Sent down to us from somewhere up above
They come to you and me in our darkest hours
To show us how to live, to teach us how to give
To guide us with the light of love
Alabama
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Tommy
Yet another birthday has passed. I'm just saying that Robert will not be allowed to even look at me in February. Anyway, it was Tommy's 8th birthday on Friday but we had his party on Thursday. He got an actual "friends" party this year as it is his special birthday. He was super excited about his party but starting Cub Scouts and getting baptized are even more exciting for him.
Also, an advertisement for Classic Fun Center--no set up or clean up for me. Just walk in and walk out and Tommy had the time of his life!!
Anyway, as with the others, I want to write down a few memories surrounding his birth.
We were building our house so we had temporarily moved into a lovely little apartment. It was cheap, month to month, and McDonalds and KFC were literally in our back yard. There was no dishwasher, the front window moved with the wind, and no matter how much I scrubbed, Aleq's socks were turned brown by the linoleum. We had a screaming mom next door, gang members below them and LDS Missionaries below us. Super nice place.
We thought the timing was right to have another baby and, once again, BAM! First month. Now, as I have stated before, my pregnancies are no fun. I was really sick again. I spent a great deal of time in the bathroom.
Luckily, CARPET had just been installed in the bathroom. Seriously? Carpet in the bathroom?! But it was much more comfortable to lie on. The sink, toilet and tub were very pink and the counter was pink tile. I could always smell frying chicken from KFC and I learned to be very comfy in that pink bathroom. Thankfully, I knew which meds to take so the violent sickness only lasted a few weeks.
It was a much easier pregnancy than my first, mostly because I knew what to expect and how to manage or prevent discomfort.
I was induced so it was a very calm morning and afternoon. I had the epidural which stayed in place, and had only mild discomfort. Around 8 hours after I was started, Tommy was born. Seriously, that is the way to have babies! I didn't even break a sweat.
He had a HUGE head. I think it had it's own gravitational pull. Both my dad and Robert's dads have big heads so he stood no chance. I always tell him that he needs a big head because his brain is so big. He likes that. But sadly, he is growing into it. It is still big but more proportionate.
I have a funny memory of him just after the stroke. He was barely two and had my sister had given him bright orange sweats and bright yellow rain boots. My brother had given him a little leather pilots jacket. They were all given at separate times and in no way meant to be worn together. But he put them on together and never wanted to take them off. The sweats had to be washed at night.
My first room was at the end of a very long hall that he would strut down like he owned the place. As he walked by, every head would turn and huge grins would erupt. He had every nurse and Therapist wrapped around his finger.
My sweet boy.
Also, an advertisement for Classic Fun Center--no set up or clean up for me. Just walk in and walk out and Tommy had the time of his life!!
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| Laser Tag was a hit |
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| Blowing out the candle on his Angry Birds cake |
We were building our house so we had temporarily moved into a lovely little apartment. It was cheap, month to month, and McDonalds and KFC were literally in our back yard. There was no dishwasher, the front window moved with the wind, and no matter how much I scrubbed, Aleq's socks were turned brown by the linoleum. We had a screaming mom next door, gang members below them and LDS Missionaries below us. Super nice place.
We thought the timing was right to have another baby and, once again, BAM! First month. Now, as I have stated before, my pregnancies are no fun. I was really sick again. I spent a great deal of time in the bathroom.
Luckily, CARPET had just been installed in the bathroom. Seriously? Carpet in the bathroom?! But it was much more comfortable to lie on. The sink, toilet and tub were very pink and the counter was pink tile. I could always smell frying chicken from KFC and I learned to be very comfy in that pink bathroom. Thankfully, I knew which meds to take so the violent sickness only lasted a few weeks.
It was a much easier pregnancy than my first, mostly because I knew what to expect and how to manage or prevent discomfort.
I was induced so it was a very calm morning and afternoon. I had the epidural which stayed in place, and had only mild discomfort. Around 8 hours after I was started, Tommy was born. Seriously, that is the way to have babies! I didn't even break a sweat.
He had a HUGE head. I think it had it's own gravitational pull. Both my dad and Robert's dads have big heads so he stood no chance. I always tell him that he needs a big head because his brain is so big. He likes that. But sadly, he is growing into it. It is still big but more proportionate.
I have a funny memory of him just after the stroke. He was barely two and had my sister had given him bright orange sweats and bright yellow rain boots. My brother had given him a little leather pilots jacket. They were all given at separate times and in no way meant to be worn together. But he put them on together and never wanted to take them off. The sweats had to be washed at night.
My first room was at the end of a very long hall that he would strut down like he owned the place. As he walked by, every head would turn and huge grins would erupt. He had every nurse and Therapist wrapped around his finger.
My sweet boy.
Saturday, November 2, 2013
Critters!
***WARNING*** This post may contain TMI.
Seriously, two birthdays in two days is fun overload. I PROMISE if I see another piece of cake in my lifetime it will be too soon. Oh yeah, we have another birthday party on Thursday. Yep, all 3 kids in one week. Not planned.
Since I am too tired to think, I thought I would write down some of the events surrounding Aleq's and Jain's births.
Aleq:
My sister had struggled for years with infertility before becoming pregnant through IVF, and I had the same condition she did so Robert and I were gearing up for the whole process. But the first month of trying, BAM!
I had gone with Robert to San Francisco where he had a class. When we met for lunch I brought him a pink and a blue flower. He had no idea what that meant so I had to explain it to him.
I got hit on while I was walking to meet him. The guy said something lame about wanting to leave his heart in San Francisco. Sooo not the time to hit on me!
Then, I got really sick. Being sick in a hotel is even less fun than being sick at home. And airports are even less fun than that! At security the lady asked if I were okay. No, I'm always this pale/green. Can I lie down while you scan me? Robert left me alone while he went to get food. He came back with a Chili dog with onions. I ran for the restroom.
At home it only got worse. I had a little bed in the bathroom and lived on Sprite and saltines. Robert would poke his head in before leaving for work and again when he came back. Thankfully I had a wonderful, understanding boss who let me work from home on a laptop in my bathroom.
Finally it was time to see my doc. I never made it to the exam room. He saw me in the hall and casually asked which hospital I preferred.
So began a really fun (awful) pregnancy of I.V. treatments, pills, fighting with the insurance company, etc. I was healthy other than being sick for the full pregnancy.
On Halloween of that year I dressed as Mr. Potato head and Robert shaved the middle of his head and attached long hair to one side and made a comb over. We went to a party where my hugely swollen feet were a hit. My cousin had a great time pushing on them and seeing the dents left by her fingers. My BP was still really low but my doc was paying attention to make sure all was good.
When we went home I was ready to sleep but Robert insisted on shaving the rest of his head. Good thing because-
I woke up really early the next morning and knew for sure. We called my parents and my dad came over to help with a Priesthood Blessing. Then we were off for the hospital.
We waited and waited for the little guy to make his entrance. My epidural came out twice and my doc was not at all happy that I was hurting when I didn't want to.
Robert liked the name SEVEN. Really. So I made him a deal that if the baby were born right at 7, that could be his name. Not 6:59 or 7:01.
He was "sunny side up" and they used the vacuum and forceps to get him turned and out. He was born at 6:59. Whew!
His weight at birth was 7lbs 8oz. The next morning it was over 8lbs. Babies don't gain weight like that so his pediatrician thinks he was really 8lbs 7oz at birth. He was 3 weeks early, imagine his size if I had gone full term. Ouch!
Jain:
My pregnancies are really hard. Not really dangerous (thank you anti-nausea pills) but I'm not really a good mom or wife for a few months. Robert and I had been talking about a baby but one Sunday I told him that I just did not feel ready yet and maybe we could wait a few months. We both strongly felt that there was a little girl waiting so it wasn't a question of IF only WHEN.
The very next morning I got a strange pimple. I had the fleeting thought of what if? But no. We were using two forms of...um...safety.
Later that day I was in the dollar store and saw a pregnancy test. $1. So I bought it and went home and took it. It was light but positive. I called my friend, Karen who was grocery shopping and she offered to pick up a real test for me. Her poor daughter was sure people there thought it was for her.
When Karen got to my house I showed her my dollar store test and she just laughed because it wasn't really light and definitely positive. So was the one she brought.
Honestly, I could not stop smiling. Sure, I was surprised but sooo happy! I was too excited to even think so I just called Robert at work to tell him. He was happy too.
A few months later...
We had finished celebrating Aleq's 5th birthday, his party was on the 3rd, and I would be induced on the 6th and I would be home in time to celebrate Tommy's birthday on the 8th. Perfectly timed, right? Wrong.
I woke up early and in pain on the 2nd. I showered, woke Robert and called my mom to come stay with the boys. She said she had been expecting my call that morning. Spooky.
I remember sitting at a high school crossing on the way to the hospital and thinking they were walking so slowly and couldn't they just hurry? Don't they somehow know I'm in pain here?
Ana Jain was born within 30 minutes of arriving at the hospital. Robert had to get the insurance card out of the car and no one thought I was that close to delivery so he went out to get it and nearly missed all the fun. I got the epidural as I was pushing. Yeah, too late. My doc says that anything I may have yelled, does not count because I was in labor.
She was tiny, only 5lbs. 3 oz. She was 4lbs. 13 oz. when we took her home. Full term, just little. She still is.
Only 6 more days and it's Tommy's turn.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Living the Dream
I really don't mean to complain so stick with me until the end. It gets better.
A couple of weeks ago I got a cold. It would NOT go away and the accompanying cough kept getting worse and I felt miserable. Thanks to a weak swallow and cough, I have had Pneumonia so many times that I know how it feels. I texted my doctor who agreed that, with my history, I needed to come in for a chest x-ray. Sure enough. So I went on medication and within a few days I started feeling better.
Ever since the stroke, it has been impossible for me to sleep deeply. I'm not totally sure of the medical reasons why but I require medication to get the sleep I need at night, and on occasion, even that doesn't cut it. So last Friday I was up until 3 a.m., Saturday it was 7, Sunday it was 7, Monday it was 5 and Tuesday was 2. I talked to my doctor (when he was delivering the still warm brownies his wife had made-bless them both) researched my pills, changed what and when I ate, etc. But, as sometimes happens, I just could NOT find sleep.
Then yesterday Jain got sick. Really sick. She was throwing up ever 15-20 minutes for 9 hours straight. Her eyes and cheeks were sunken and she didn't want stories or T.V. or anything. All I did all day was lay by her, tickle her back and arms, and try to get her to sip Gatorade. Finally, she started feeling better but even today she has dark circles under her eyes and just wants to rest.
By last night I was a mess. I had not put on makeup or worn anything but sweats in daayys. It felt like the last two weeks were a big blur and -gasp-I am totally sick of my bed!!
Right before bed last night, Robert and I felt that because Jain had spent most of the day in our bed, the sheets should be changed. As I was pulling the old sheet off, I lost my grip and tumbled backwards. I would have fallen if I hadn't hit the wall instead. I immediately burst into tears.
Robert stopped what he was doing to come over and hug me. I just cried to him that I felt totally useless. I couldn't even change the sheets. I had not made dinner in too long and if not for him and my mom, the house would fall down around us. I told him that I just didn't know what I would do without him. I love him with all of my heart and he takes such good care of me.
He has told me over and over that it is all worth it just to have me here. He hugged me and told me that again. He also told me that I do more than I realize and that I am a good momma and wife. He's a good liar.
Then tonight Jain was chatting with me and said, "I hated being sick. I threw up more than anybody ever has. But you know what I did like? You took careva (care of) me. You didn't go to work or the store or the kitchen. You stayed by me. Little girls need their mom's when they are sick."
I need to be taught over and over and over. The dishes will still be there, my hair is healthier when I don't blow dry, Spaghettios and apples are a perfectly acceptable dinner, all 3 kids in my bed watching a movie is better than a vacuumed rug, and Robert and I turning off the lights and chatting and laughing for an hour before sleeping is worth having baskets and baskets of clean, unfolded laundry.
I have a great life. I just forget sometimes.
A couple of weeks ago I got a cold. It would NOT go away and the accompanying cough kept getting worse and I felt miserable. Thanks to a weak swallow and cough, I have had Pneumonia so many times that I know how it feels. I texted my doctor who agreed that, with my history, I needed to come in for a chest x-ray. Sure enough. So I went on medication and within a few days I started feeling better.
Ever since the stroke, it has been impossible for me to sleep deeply. I'm not totally sure of the medical reasons why but I require medication to get the sleep I need at night, and on occasion, even that doesn't cut it. So last Friday I was up until 3 a.m., Saturday it was 7, Sunday it was 7, Monday it was 5 and Tuesday was 2. I talked to my doctor (when he was delivering the still warm brownies his wife had made-bless them both) researched my pills, changed what and when I ate, etc. But, as sometimes happens, I just could NOT find sleep.
Then yesterday Jain got sick. Really sick. She was throwing up ever 15-20 minutes for 9 hours straight. Her eyes and cheeks were sunken and she didn't want stories or T.V. or anything. All I did all day was lay by her, tickle her back and arms, and try to get her to sip Gatorade. Finally, she started feeling better but even today she has dark circles under her eyes and just wants to rest.
By last night I was a mess. I had not put on makeup or worn anything but sweats in daayys. It felt like the last two weeks were a big blur and -gasp-I am totally sick of my bed!!
Right before bed last night, Robert and I felt that because Jain had spent most of the day in our bed, the sheets should be changed. As I was pulling the old sheet off, I lost my grip and tumbled backwards. I would have fallen if I hadn't hit the wall instead. I immediately burst into tears.
Robert stopped what he was doing to come over and hug me. I just cried to him that I felt totally useless. I couldn't even change the sheets. I had not made dinner in too long and if not for him and my mom, the house would fall down around us. I told him that I just didn't know what I would do without him. I love him with all of my heart and he takes such good care of me.
He has told me over and over that it is all worth it just to have me here. He hugged me and told me that again. He also told me that I do more than I realize and that I am a good momma and wife. He's a good liar.
Then tonight Jain was chatting with me and said, "I hated being sick. I threw up more than anybody ever has. But you know what I did like? You took careva (care of) me. You didn't go to work or the store or the kitchen. You stayed by me. Little girls need their mom's when they are sick."
I need to be taught over and over and over. The dishes will still be there, my hair is healthier when I don't blow dry, Spaghettios and apples are a perfectly acceptable dinner, all 3 kids in my bed watching a movie is better than a vacuumed rug, and Robert and I turning off the lights and chatting and laughing for an hour before sleeping is worth having baskets and baskets of clean, unfolded laundry.
I have a great life. I just forget sometimes.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Sorry, Scotty
When I first moved in to the house in South Ogden, next door to skip and his family, I had no need to really address him. he was just the dad of my friends. I was even a little frightened by him and mostly just stayed out of his way. As I have said before, before the abuse came the "courting" of both my family and me. he started talking to me and actually being nice to me. Very nice. I needed to call him something besides D or T's dad. he was an adult so calling him by his first name seemed odd. Because he was a grown up, very intimidating, and I felt very inferior, I started calling him sir. he seemed to like it so I figured it was acceptable.
I called him sir for the whole time he courted and abused me. I realize now how much he must have relished the term and how very much it tells about my feelings of the trust and influence he had over me.
When I began working at his dental office, I was told by his daughter, T, that we were to call him dr. nielsen. It was not a suggestion or a request. It was a demand.
When I would see him at church, most often on the stand with the Bishop, I was to call him brother nielsen. Strange that he would do whatever he wanted to me the day before but act righteous at church and feign deserving of the title, brother.
It was not that he ever earned my actual respect, he just liked to hear himself referred to in those terms.
Also, he absolutely despised being called mister nielsen. I guess Mr. was too generic?
On a side note, I once referred to him as skip in front of others. he said that my saying that had really turned him on and he liked it. I never said it again.
From that time on, I have had a very difficult time with terms of respect. First, my respect is not given just because of a position or calling. One has to show through both word and action that they should receive it. Second, just saying the words sir, doctor, or brother, gives me to chills. I hate them.
But I know that these terms can and should be used.
My brother is a Lt. Col. in the USAF and he has gone to school and worked very hard for many, many years at prosecuting criminals. He deserves respect. He deserves to be called sir.
The many doctors with whom I work have become experts in what they do and on numerous occasions have used their position and knowledge to better or even save my life. You bet I respect them and calling them Dr. is something they have earned.
A few months ago I took my daughter with me to one of my numerous appointments. This one happened to be with our very good friend, Dr. Scott Stallings. When we walked into the office, busy with patients and medical personnel, my daughter spotted Scott and yelled, "Scotty!" across the whole room. Everyone started to laugh and his face went bright red as he laughed and yelled "Jain!" right back to her.
Although it was a comical moment, I realized that I was passing down my "lack of respect" to my children. They should understand that at times it may be appropriate to show a little respect, at least verbally. I will try to work on that with them.
But as for "Scotty" honestly, can they be expected to respect a person who owns a blue wig and may or may not wear it to BYU games?
I called him sir for the whole time he courted and abused me. I realize now how much he must have relished the term and how very much it tells about my feelings of the trust and influence he had over me.
When I began working at his dental office, I was told by his daughter, T, that we were to call him dr. nielsen. It was not a suggestion or a request. It was a demand.
When I would see him at church, most often on the stand with the Bishop, I was to call him brother nielsen. Strange that he would do whatever he wanted to me the day before but act righteous at church and feign deserving of the title, brother.
It was not that he ever earned my actual respect, he just liked to hear himself referred to in those terms.
Also, he absolutely despised being called mister nielsen. I guess Mr. was too generic?
On a side note, I once referred to him as skip in front of others. he said that my saying that had really turned him on and he liked it. I never said it again.
From that time on, I have had a very difficult time with terms of respect. First, my respect is not given just because of a position or calling. One has to show through both word and action that they should receive it. Second, just saying the words sir, doctor, or brother, gives me to chills. I hate them.
But I know that these terms can and should be used.
My brother is a Lt. Col. in the USAF and he has gone to school and worked very hard for many, many years at prosecuting criminals. He deserves respect. He deserves to be called sir.
The many doctors with whom I work have become experts in what they do and on numerous occasions have used their position and knowledge to better or even save my life. You bet I respect them and calling them Dr. is something they have earned.
A few months ago I took my daughter with me to one of my numerous appointments. This one happened to be with our very good friend, Dr. Scott Stallings. When we walked into the office, busy with patients and medical personnel, my daughter spotted Scott and yelled, "Scotty!" across the whole room. Everyone started to laugh and his face went bright red as he laughed and yelled "Jain!" right back to her.
Although it was a comical moment, I realized that I was passing down my "lack of respect" to my children. They should understand that at times it may be appropriate to show a little respect, at least verbally. I will try to work on that with them.
But as for "Scotty" honestly, can they be expected to respect a person who owns a blue wig and may or may not wear it to BYU games?
Friday, October 4, 2013
Aleq Update
As I wrote before, Aleq had a really rough year in 4th grade. He has had difficult years previously but wonderful, caring help always seemed to be everywhere for him and although he didn't love school, he did well academically and socially.
Last year was different. There were a few different reasons but the result was that he was forever getting in trouble, often felt singled out for punishment, only had average grades and dreaded going to school. I will never forget waking him up for school and even before he was totally awake he said. "I don't want to go to school." I still get teary thinking about that.
Medically he was messed up, too. We tried countless meds and that meant new side effects, switches and shocks to his system, withdrawal symptoms and many nights when his body would just not slow down enough for sleep until the early morning. He had so many sick days that we started receiving letters from the district.
So, working with the school, we set up a system that provided some specialized options for him in a 504 plan.
We never needed it.
This past summer, he started a new med that is much more gentle on him and seemed to just take the edge off for him. He began to be the "real" Aleq that he had been trying to be. He is able to have his real personality and I have thoroughly enjoyed him. He is funny, sweet, is sleeping well and seems happier than he has been in months. Maybe years. It is absolutely an answer to our prayers.
But he still struggles with the ADHD aspects of it all.
This year, within the first few days, I requested a meeting with his new teacher, Mrs. Wood. She had already seated him right next to her and made a few minor adjustments. She wasn't even aware that he had a 504 plan but she wasn't really concerned. She told me that her son had ADHD. She said that it can be difficult with a teacher who...(she searched for the right word) didn't understand ADHD. It is her opinion that these kids will take over the world one day because they have the energy and the intelligence to do it! She felt that their personalities meshed well and they were already becoming good friends. She and I agreed to keep the lines of communication open and if we ever needed to use the 504 plan, we could look into it later.
Since that time, Aleq has mentioned things like, "She noticed I was getting bored so she had me..."
I ask every day how school went and he is always very positive. He totally adores her! He tells me about the jokes she tells or the fun things she does. I asked him the other day if school had gone well. "Derrr! It was awesome. My teacher"
He has not wanted to miss even a single day so far this term and just today he brought me his report card. 3 is the highest possible. Straight 3's with one 1 in handwriting. I cried.
That's my boy!
We have been blessed.
Since we are nowhere near the subject:
The other night, Tommy asked if Robert thought he would be a good dada when he grew up. Robert told him that he would be a great dada, to which he said, "I'll just follow the steps that you do."
How sweet is that?!
Last year was different. There were a few different reasons but the result was that he was forever getting in trouble, often felt singled out for punishment, only had average grades and dreaded going to school. I will never forget waking him up for school and even before he was totally awake he said. "I don't want to go to school." I still get teary thinking about that.
Medically he was messed up, too. We tried countless meds and that meant new side effects, switches and shocks to his system, withdrawal symptoms and many nights when his body would just not slow down enough for sleep until the early morning. He had so many sick days that we started receiving letters from the district.
So, working with the school, we set up a system that provided some specialized options for him in a 504 plan.
We never needed it.
This past summer, he started a new med that is much more gentle on him and seemed to just take the edge off for him. He began to be the "real" Aleq that he had been trying to be. He is able to have his real personality and I have thoroughly enjoyed him. He is funny, sweet, is sleeping well and seems happier than he has been in months. Maybe years. It is absolutely an answer to our prayers.
But he still struggles with the ADHD aspects of it all.
This year, within the first few days, I requested a meeting with his new teacher, Mrs. Wood. She had already seated him right next to her and made a few minor adjustments. She wasn't even aware that he had a 504 plan but she wasn't really concerned. She told me that her son had ADHD. She said that it can be difficult with a teacher who...(she searched for the right word) didn't understand ADHD. It is her opinion that these kids will take over the world one day because they have the energy and the intelligence to do it! She felt that their personalities meshed well and they were already becoming good friends. She and I agreed to keep the lines of communication open and if we ever needed to use the 504 plan, we could look into it later.
Since that time, Aleq has mentioned things like, "She noticed I was getting bored so she had me..."
I ask every day how school went and he is always very positive. He totally adores her! He tells me about the jokes she tells or the fun things she does. I asked him the other day if school had gone well. "Derrr! It was awesome. My teacher"
He has not wanted to miss even a single day so far this term and just today he brought me his report card. 3 is the highest possible. Straight 3's with one 1 in handwriting. I cried.
That's my boy!
We have been blessed.
Since we are nowhere near the subject:
The other night, Tommy asked if Robert thought he would be a good dada when he grew up. Robert told him that he would be a great dada, to which he said, "I'll just follow the steps that you do."
How sweet is that?!
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