3 God touches everything...

 ...Except my iPhone...

My parents were never very religious as I was growing up.  We celebrated the relevant holidays, but it was more a social thing than a spiritual one.  Given this state of affairs, my religious grandmothers both tried their best to educate me in matters related to The Faith.

I remember being a very young child when Abi, my maternal grandmother, was telling me about God.  She explained to me that everything exists because of the power of God, that he touches everything.  We had a discussion about it, and I went away with the idea that if He did not touch it, it could not exist.

Cool.

So off I went to play with my favorite, super bouncy ball.

The game was to bounce it as high and as hard as I could, chase after it laughing my ass off, then do it again.  I had so much fun with that game.  (Did I mention the ball was ridiculously bouncy?)  After one particularly enthusiastic throw, the ball bounced so hard I couldn't keep up with it.  I saw it roll under a set of floor length curtains, never to be seen again.

I looked everywhere.  It was my only, my favorite bouncy ball.  I searched and searched for it.  Behind the curtains, all the way along the walls, all through the house.  It was nowhere to be found.  I persisted, but it was in vain.  I even checked the walls for holes, maybe it had rolled out into the garden?  But no.  I kept searching for sporadically over the coming days, maybe even weeks, but it never turned up.

Conclusion?

Either I bounced it so hard, God couldn't keep up with it (yes, my arm was that strong at 4 or 5 years old); or maybe God had lost interest: either way, he had stopped touching it and it had ceased to exist. 

I was very young then.  I'm agnostic now, (I come from a multi-faith family, so I respect religions, but do not take part).  I stopped believing in God when I was in first grade, or maybe younger (my dad had a talk with me, encouraging me to find my own answers since he probably didn't like people filling my head with "truths".  He wanted me to find my own path).

Anyhow, back to the present:

God stopped touching my iPhone.

I curled up in bed with my computer and iPhone, like I do every night so I can watch a few shows before going to sleep.  I went to check my phone to make sure the alarm and everything was set for tomorrow, but it's nowhere to be found.

I turned my room upside-down.

I checked the bathroom, living room, kitchen - I even checked the kids room while they were sleeping.  I turned the light on in their room - that's how desperate I was to find my phone.  Fortunately the kids didn't wake up, but damn.

That phone is nowhere to be found.  

Maybe there is something to this "touching" business after all.

7 Hard does not mean impossible

It seems like forever since I wrote my last post.  I've wanted to get back in the swing of things so many times, but have felt overwhelmed by the task of recounting everything that's happened, so I kept putting it off.

Living here has been a godsend, but it has also been really tough.  Living as a "single" parent is not easy.

I spent the entire last semester struggling to catch up with my courses because I had started the school year totally behind since I had to search for schools for The Don and Betty, interview babysitters, take the kids to a gazillion doctors appointments to get them up to date with their vaccinations (the vaccination schedule here is different from the UK), and for numerous assessments with various different organizations (school, ABA, developmental, audiology, speech, shrink, OT - you name it, we did it).  There was furniture to build, packed lunches to make for the kids school days on top of all the other mundane domestic tasks and ridiculous amounts of readings and assignments to do for my masters degree.  There were a lot of times I wasn't sure I'd make it through my classes and I really worried about my grades.

We somehow muddled through till it was time to go visit the Bubs in London.  I couldn't believe it when I got my grades back - straight As!!

The flight back to the UK was the easiest one we'd had since The Don was a newborn!!  I had been freaking out about that since I had such a ridiculous amount of luggage taking presents for the family and dumping clothes and toys the kids had grown out of.

This was just the hand luggage.  We got looks.  Lots of them!

They both slept the. whole. way. through the flight and I managed to catch a couple of movies!!

Bliss, baby!  Pure bliss!

I couldn't believe it when I had to wake them up when we landed!  It made a nice change from this and other experiences like it.

The way back was pretty chilled too, they didn't sleep but they were happy munching on snacks and watching the kids movies with no sound (they both hate wearing headphones).  I watched another couple of movies on the way back - I have never been so spoiled!!

Our vacation in London was great.  Betty was scared of Astrid at first (which was a little sad since they used to be inseparable), but she quickly warmed up to her again and it was so nice to have the family together again.  Leaving was exceptionally hard.  Thinking back to how tough times had been in London for The Don and me didn't help make it any easier, I was surprised to find myself dreading the flights back to the US.  Seeing the family, all that wonderful relaxation time and pampering from the Bubs made me soft!!  Everyone said how well The Don had done though, how it was clear from his progress that we had made the right decision.

You may remember this post from 2011, where The Don point blank refused to wear a collared shirt.  I picked out a proper shirt for him to wear for a big lunch we were having with the Bubs' family over the holidays.  I'd been really nervous about dressing him, I wasn't sure how we'd do, but he didn't even flinch!  It was awesome! 

All dressed up.

The Don didn't even get sick from the jet lag like he normally does and I was able to take the kids to school the very next day after we landed in the States.  Truth be told, they were gunning to go.

My boy.

Who had previously been terrified of school, who had an actual phobia from it after all the bullying and mistreatment he had been subjected to.

I'm so lucky to have found that place, so lucky that he's somewhere where I know he's not only safe, but around kind people who are passionate about what they do.  That school is a real gem.  And to add the icing on the cake, I got accepted into my first choice internship this semester, which is on the same campus as the kids' school.  The school where I work is for bigger kids, and The Don and Betty's school is a preschool/kindergarten.  It's pretty far away from where we live, so it's nice to be able to cut down my commute as well as work in such a great place.

So here we are, back to our old routine.  Well, they are - mine is slightly modified - but that's to be expected, every semester will be slightly different from the last.  I'm worried about this semester, I had thought it would be easier than the last one since I wouldn't start off having already fallen behind, but this internship basically takes out three days which leaves me very little time to study (I can't study at the weekends, I can't just ignore the kids, so I can only study when they're asleep and I'm exhausted, or the two mornings they are at school and I don't have to work).  I'll try to keep the title of this post in mind though...

And it makes me laugh, the kids now like saying "hi" to the old toys that we left back in England when we FaceTime with the Bubs.  >_<

2 10 Years

Do not stand at my grave and weep,  

I am not there, I do not sleep.  

I am in a thousand winds that blow,  

I am the diamond glints on snow.  

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.   

When you awaken in the morning's hush, 

I am the swift uplifting rush  

Of quiet birds in circling flight, 

I am the soft starlight at night.   

I am in the flowers that bloom, 

I am in a quiet room.   

I am in the birds that sing, 

I am in each lovely thing.  

Do not stand at my grave and cry, 

I am not there. I do not die.

                                       

                               Mary Elizabeth Frye

3 Almost Wordless Wednesday: it takes a village...

...An Angry Birds village!!

12 OH MY FRIGGIN LORD!!

It has been nearly a year since The Don got daytime potty trained.  We have been working really hard on getting him fully potty trained but there has just been one little problem:

His bowel movements.  He seemed to have a fear of going.  He *always* held it in until he was asleep.  We tried changing his diet to include a lot more fruit and vegetables, keeping him up late at night so he would go - all kinds of things but nothing worked.

We asked our previous BCBA about getting his BMs under control, but she didn't really have a lot to say to us.  She suggested we try cutting a hole in his diaper.  Her theory was that maybe he was used to the sensation of going in his diaper and he felt weird about going "out in the open".

The only problem with that theory was that he wasn't choosing to go in his diaper.  He was always asleep when he pooped - not in bed - ASLEEP.

He feared having a bowel movement.  He was happy to sit on the toilet to pee, but when it came to asking him to sit on it to poop, he would start freaking out and avoiding it at all costs.

I've written a little bit about how obsessed The Don has become with Angry Birds, but I'm not sure I've mentioned the fact that I've actually had to ban the computer game.  He can have his Angry Birds tshirts, underpants and toys...

 ...But he'll play Angry Birds to the exclusion of all else.  So the game has been reserved as a highly valued prize for sitting through pure torture.  Like getting his hair cut.

I kept sitting The Don on the toilet to get him to poop.  I'd tell him to relax and try and I'd pretend that I was going - really exaggerating the actions.  He would copy me (clenching his fists and all), but he would not go.  He got Angry Birds a few times for trying though, and he had the promise of longer turns on the game if he pooped in the potty.

Last Thursday I took him to the doctor to get his vaccinations up to date, since the vaccination schedule here is very different than in the UK.  I mentioned to the doctor that we'd been having issues with bowel movements, and he suggested we try miralax.

I'll just get it out of the way now and say that I wasn't overly impressed with the doctor's office we're registered with since the doctor who saw The Don also asked if he had any speech issues (this was after hearing about his Autism diagnosis and after hearing my son speak.)  I bought the miralax on Friday and gave a tiny amount to him the same day.  I upped the dosage on Saturday, and upped it still more on Sunday. We had to go into the doctor's practice again on Monday so Betty could have her vaccines updated - the poor thing had to have FOUR shots (and get her finger pricked to check for anemia).  We were assigned a different doctor for that visit and while she was taking the family medical history, I mentioned The Don's diagnosis and she said "but he's only half Autistic right?"  *head:desk*

By Monday evening he still hadn't had a bowel movement at all and I was worried.  Tuesday morning, still nothing.  It was pouring rain and Betty was slightly feverish after all her shots, so I decided to keep them home for the day.

I called the doctor's office and expressed my concern that after so many days on miralax, The Don was still backed up.  We had a long, frustrating conversation about miralax and how to administer it (they said to read the instructions and that it said to mix it with water after I had told them I'd been mixing it in milk, but the instructions actually say to mix it with any beverage hot or cold).  They said that I should use a suppository.

I'm normally against too much medication or unnecessary medical interventions for my own kids (within reason - clearly - they still get their shots etc - whatever is necessary - I just try to avoid excess meddling if possible), but The Don was really blocked up and he needed something to help out.  I am in shock at how well it worked.

All the miralax he had taken had really softened everything up for him, but he was still trying to hold everything in.  I sat Betty down to watch a DVD (funnily enough it was The Little Engine that Could) and inserted the suppository.  The thing was lubricated, but even so it was torture for both The Don and me.  I think I could write a whole post about that, but I'll spare you the details. 

I immediately sat him on the toilet and we waited...

And waited. 

About a half hour later it was obvious he really needed to go because he was getting agitated and fearful.  I hugged him as he sat there and rubbed his back telling him it would be okay and that his stomach would stop hurting as soon as he pooped.  I told him I knew he could do it because he did it most nights!  That he just hadn't done it for a while, and that's why his tummy was hurting...

He went a tiny bit, but kept trying to hold it in.  As soon as he went that tiny bit, I cheered and gave him the iPad so he could play Angry Birds.

We sat there for a while, and then suddenly - he strained:

After I cleaned him up, he looked in the toiled and was so happy and proud of himself.  He was flapping and celebrating!

"I poo in the potty!  I did it!  The poop is in the potty!!"

I don't think I've ever seen him so proud of himself!  I was so happy for him (and so relieved).  But inside I had a little nagging feeling...  Will it be okay?  Will he be able to continue on from here, or will I have to resort to a suppository again?  We both hated the dreaded suppository.  I shrugged and figured with the amount of withholding he had been doing, we probably wouldn't have to worry about it for a little time yet.  The doctors had told me to keep dosing him with miralax, but I was never really comfortable using it to begin with, so I decided to switch back to the child fiber gummies.

This morning, it looked like he needed to go.  He was clutching his stomach and it looked like he had cramping.  I sat him down on the toilet again, not really expecting anything to happen other than his usual resistance, but after maybe 10 or 15 minutes, he went!!  We both celebrated again and he got to play with his treasured Angry Birds game.  We were almost an hour late for school, but it was worth it cause OMG HE POOPED IN THE POTTY AGAIN! 

I came back from class tonight and a little while after I got here, he went running to the bathroom to...

You guessed it!

TO GO POOP!!  He was so happy again and proud of himself, pointing at his accomplishment as he sat there, while I ran to get him the Angry Birds game.  I think we crossed the biggest hurdle.  He's been able to do it while awake, so 1. he's now able to recognize the process his body goes through to accomplish this task, and 2. he's been able to see that it's not that painful and it always makes his stomach feel better when he's done!

Could this be the beginning of a beautiful friendship?

I think so...