Proud Parenting Moment

BUMD just handed A a banana. In typical fashion, she immediately raised to her ear and said "hello?" Looks like we're raising them right.



(Yes, she's wearing a Christmas Dress in October. You can never start celebrating too soon, at least in her world.)

Music Monday

Summer is finally starting to slide into fall. The kids are back in school, the weather is almost cooperating, and heck - the calendar says it is so. There's something refreshing about fall. It's as though summer is one big free-for-all and fall is purpose-driven, but not necessarily rigid. There's still time for jumping into piles of leaves, but only after you're done with your homework.

Billy Joel's song Famous Last Words always makes me think of fall. It was his farewell to his usual songwriting, but at the same time it's a farewell to summer. "Summertime has come and gone," but "there's comfort in my coffee cup and apples in the early fall." One season ends, but the next is just as welcome. Life keeps moving on.

"Ain't it sweet after all these years"?

Inspiration

Now that I've whined a bit, it's time to get back to laughing about it. Like Kirsty says on her blog: "If you don't laugh, you'll cry, and nobody likes a crybaby." True that.

I've settled for telling people that A has enrolled in the Disease of the Month Club. It's an easy answer to give to people who ask how you and the family are. I've also come up with a plan for the kid picture for the holiday card. You see, K has vision problems. C has speech problems. A's next appointment is to check out her hearing problems. Can you tell where I'm going with this? It's going to be great.

Stripes

I've been staring at the title of my last entry off and on for the last month. The whole entry seems over-dramatic, except for days like today. I just got off the phone with the pediatrician (again, too many times this year) to discuss the latest zebra. Another incidental finding. Another report consisting of 'everything's ok, but we noted some things that don't belong there'. Maybe they're an issue, maybe (hopefully) not. But go see a specialist to see what (s)he thinks. We've seen this specialist before and eventually been given the all-clear. Please let it be so again.

I am so, so tired of this. All of this - the poking, prodding, what-ifs, and hopefully-nots. Thank goodness I've been blessed with a child who is able to deal with it. Just yesterday she helped convince her brother that the flu shot wasn't really that bad. "I'll go first and show you how it's done," she said. What a lovely, brave girl. Why does it always have to be her?

Zebras

"When you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras"

I've been struggling to find a way to explain A's tendency to come down with intriguing medical conditions. I'd already been chastised for calling her "weird" and rightly so. It's not nice to call your child "weird" even if that's an apt explanation. Yesterday, I found the solution - she's a "Zebra Collector."

According to Wikipedia, Zebra is a medical slang term for an obscure and unlikely diagnosis from ordinary symptoms. A has had more than her share of zebras. Why? Who knows. What we do know is that if someone in our family is going to have a weird illness, it's her.

Yesterday's pediatric ophthalmologist visit resulted in a "Horses" diagnosis. We love those. Dr. S has known A since she was three weeks old. She'd just been diagnosed with a rare genetic syndrome that is associated with eye problems. When I told him yesterday about A's recent diagnosis with Eosinophilic Esophagitis, he said "Wow, that's rare."

"So's IP (Incontinentia Pigmenti)," I replied. That conversation prompted him to look for the zebras, as he put it. I can't believe I didn't think of that term sooner. He's brilliant, as usual.

Looking for zebras shouldn't be routine, but in A's case it is starting to be. She's had repeated cases of having the diagnosis that one wouldn't expect. We had more cases than just the IP and EE. I can't decide which I hate more - looking beyond the usual symptoms or missing the diagnosis. For her, it's probably the latter. I just hope the other two continue to go easy on us.

Now, if I can just find a pink zebra to give her, life will be perfect.

Sweetness

The best thing about having a sister was that I always had a friend. - Cali Rae Turner

A brother is a friend given by Nature. - Legouve


A just told me that she's letting C put some things he wants on her birthday list "because I'm a nice person." When she went back into the next room to check on his progress, he told her how nice she was to let him do that and she said "well, I love you."

I need to remember this when the two of them are fighting like cats and dogs.

To medicate, or not to medicate

Today was the last day of camp for C. It was his first time going to day camp. For that matter, it was his first time attending anything other than school. We've never been comfortable leaving him alone with anyone who might not be capable of supervising him properly. He really can be that challenging. Also, he's such a homebody that he really isn't interested in going out and interacting with other humans some days.

Camp Shalom changed all that for us. He loved it. His only complaint is that it doesn't last the rest of the summer. We enrolled him in the two-week camp on the advice of our educational consultant, the wonderful Jill. She was, as always, right - it was exactly what he needed. Camp Shalom focuses on social skill education for kids with ADHD, Aspergers, and/or High Functioning Autism. Social skills training is so important for kids on the spectrum, because social skills are what they lack. By teaching him these skills, we can help C interact with other people more effectively.

The other thing we do to help him interact with others is medicate him. C is on two different ADHD medications - Concerta (stimulant) and Strattera (non-stimulant). This is the combination we've come up with after working with his pediatrician for several years. His pediatrician has worked with thousands of kids over the years. Out of these, he's only put eight on medication before they turned five years old. C is one of those eight.

When we tell people how old he was when we started him on medication, they're usually shocked. Most of the rest knew him before he was on the meds. Anyone who's seen him off the meds (in the morning or evening) know why he's medicated. It makes sense to them. He needs the extra help the meds give him. His impulses are controlled to the point that he can concentrate. At least, that's what I thought. When I talked to the counselors today, they were surprised to learn that he's on medication. They thought for sure that he was on a medication break. These are trained counselors with experience working with kids like him. I don't know whether to be amused or concerned. I guess concerned - if he can't concentrate with the help of medication, then what the heck do we do?

I read a great article on medication options the other day. It's a rarity to find an article discussing medications in a fair and balanced way. I'll be referring to it again in the coming weeks before school starts as we work (again? still?) to make sure C has optimal assistance in focusing on his schoolwork. I would love to be able to ditch the medication (the co-pays alone are a good reason to want off it), but I don't think it's a viable option for him. Anyone have a magic wand handy?