Little Bits

Well, its been an interesting few weeks. Aiden has been to his therapist twice and been on his meds for a few weeks. Have I seen a change? Yes. Is it too early to tell if these two changes are helping him? Yes. Why? Because he has been on school holidays and hasn't had the added stress of assignments due and teachers bawling him out.

There are times when we forget how much he takes in and how literal he is. This was brought back to both his dad and I on the weekend. The kids helped me out in the yard, moving a very heavy cage into our chickens pen. They didn't whinge much BUT later, when it came to moving a cubic meter of dirt, they all cracked it...big time. Previously, Aiden has told me, in a fit of temper, that he hates being treated like a slave. Well, on Sunday, his sister spat the same accusation at me.

By the end of the day, after moving a huge amount of dirt, my back was a mess. I couldn't breathe without it spasming. I was in a whole world of hurt and it wasn't getting any easier. I still had a mound of washing to fold. Even bending down to pick up a pair of knickers had me breaking out in a cold sweat and swooning. And I had three whingeing kids who were refusing to help.

It was at that point that I was done. I had put up with being accused of forcing my kids into slavery. I had one day to do all the chores and I was asking for help, help they refused to give...so I quit. I told all three of them that I would not be doing any of the little things I normally do to make their lives easier. No making lunches, no driving them to school, no folding laundry...nothing.

I got the exact reaction I expected, wails of disbelief, moans of "its not fair". And then I looked at Aiden. He was white as a ghost and hyperventilating. He quickly left the room and my husband found him screaming into his pillow. After a good ten minutes he came into our room with tears streaming down his face. Aiden thought we meant that we weren't going to do ANYTHING for him at all and we were going to leave him alone, on his own. Hubby spent ages talking him down and it culminated with Aiden throwing himself into his arms thanking him for not leaving him alone.

I forget that Aiden is so literal, that his life is black and white. There are no grey areas. He doesn't "get" sarcasm, he often has to ask me if I'm being sarcastic with him. That I often have to explain jokes and puns to him.

I forget that my boy is broken. Does that make me a bad Mum?

Cin

Keep Calm and Carry On...

A lot has happened in the last week.

I had a meeting with Aidens teachers and developed excellent strategies for all of us to stay in touch. These include a virtual classroom for us all, more checking of his diary and help after school on some days. I made it abundantly clear to all of them that Aiden is not handling school very well, neither academically nor emotionally. I came away from this meeting refreshed and energised.

We went out and purchased a small notebook computer for Aiden to use in the classroom for his notes as well as at home for his assignments. He is not allowed games on this computer, nor is it a toy.

Discussions with the paediatrician went very well. Not only did he reiterate the importance of Aiden speaking to a therapist but he also gave Aiden a script for a mood stabiliser. So, my kid has joined the ranks of medicated kids. Being that I too am medicated, I am looking for the same "help" that my crazy pills give me (grin). I'm looking forward to having a more balanced child, emotionally.

And today Aiden began seeing a therapist to help him talk through his feelings, his emotions, how to control his anger, things like that. I was quite happy with Dr R and Aiden seemed to like her as well. We did discuss the difficulties with the way Caitie treats her brother and will be working on that too. 

One thing that jumped out at both appointments was Aiden complaining about lack of sleep! I find that odd as he is in bed by 8pm and asleep by 8.30 every night. The house gets up at 6.30 but we let him sleep in til 7pm. That's around 11 hours of sleep and still he claims to be tired? Is it more emotional tired than physical perhaps? 

The poor wee man is also struggling with social issues particular for his age, specifically girl trouble. We are working through this too and I feel its very important that I don't dismiss his feelings or minimise  them.  What he is feeling is very real and it's very painful and I want him to understand that I get it! It's hard to look into your sons eyes and hear him cry " why won't she look at me, why doesn't she give me a chance?"  oh my love, if I knew the answer I would be a very rich person. For now, I tell him there are two solutions- one is to walk away, forego his friendship and cut all ties OR stay a friend in the hopes that maybe in the future her feelings may change. Tough call but he chose option number two. And here I was thinking I would be having these talks with my daughter!

So, we are ready for Term 2. Lord help us!

Cin

Hold, Please!

Yesterday, I was so pleased to receive a phone call from Aidens paediatrician bumping his appointment up. It was scheduled for 2pm today. Aiden went in to school with a note asking him to be ready to pick up at 1.30. I rearranged my whole day, no mean feat when you are your own boss and are mobile. Luckily I have understanding clients!

9am and I recieved a second phone call asking if I could get there at 1.40pm as the doctor was hoping to leave early. My response was "ummm, no, I pick my son up at 1.30 and I won't make it in time."

So, I pick Aiden up, race like mad to get to the hospital only to find I'm at the wrong hospital. A quick phone call and the receptionist told me she wasn't sure if the doctor would still see us. She asked him, came back on the line and said get here as quick as you can, the doctor will wait.

It took us eleven minutes to get from one hospital to the other. We ran in only to be told that no, the doctor had decided we were too late. "After all", said the receptionist, "Your appointment WAS for 1.40" I only just managed to keep it together as I told her indeed it was not, that I told the receptionist from that morning that I simply couldn't get there and my original time was 2pm, technically we were only eleven minutes late. Apparently the doctor had made up his mind and that was that. I pulled my kid out of school, rescheduled my clients so he could be a pompous ass!

His appointment is now in two weeks time. Small mercies.

Cin  

 

Time to Share

Its been a very, very long time since I posted. I stopped because life got so darn busy. But I need a place to vent, a place to yell, scream and cry. I also need a place to smile and laugh, there hasn't been a whole lot of that lately.

The tone of this blog is going to move more away from family in general and more onto how we, as a family, are handling Aiden's diagnosis.

Nearly six years ago, Aiden was diagnosed with Aspergers. For us, that meant just changing a few things and learning new ways to deal with Aidens "issues".

Around a month ago, our world exploded. There is no other way to put it or even to sugarcoat it. The wheels fell of everything and we have been left with an angry, hurt, defiant young man. Aiden won't work at school, Aiden won't work at home. Aiden will only do what Aiden wants to do and pulling him up on it results in screaming, crying and anger...such anger. Aidens hormones are going riot, taking him with them.

I started by running interventions. Stepping in between him and all that was making him angry. I fronted the school to talk about his Education Plan. His teachers weren't following it. No-one was checking his homework diary, no-one was sending me assignments. No-one was there for my boy. He was slipping through the cracks and no-one could see that.

I tried as hard as I could to keep him on task, to keep him focused, to work on his assignments with him. At one point he had five assignments all due within a two week period. I was exhausted and frustrated, Aiden was exhausted and frustrated and something had to give.

It all came to a massive head yesterday when he flipped out over being asked to do his chores. He was screaming at the top of his lungs that we were treating him like a slave. I found him facedown on his bed screaming with anger and frustration into his pillow.

I broke.

I rang my very good friend Trace. She is the mum to two special needs kids, one with Aspergers and one with ADHD. I sobbed into the phone, telling her all that was happening and what could I do? Trace was amazing and talked me down from that high, sad, lonely place I was in. We have a plan in place. There is light at the end of the tunnel and it isn't a train.

So yesterday I contacted Aidens support teacher and informed he that he had to organise a meeting with ALL of his teachers because we were in a really bad place and needed everyone to be on board. Today, I rang his paediatrician to make a follow up appointment with him. He also referred me to a psychologist not far from where I live.  My husband brought Aiden a punching bag to work out his frustrations.

I'm hoping we are working toward a calmer, happier boy. My fingers are crossed.

Cin

Ekka...

Well. My kids have been bugging me for some time to go to the Ekka. For those overseas, the Ekka is the Royal National Agricultural Society show where the best of the bush comes to the city. It features cows, pigs, chickens, pedigree birds, dogs, cats, horses, fish, etc etc etc, food pavillions, wine tasting, competitions in making cakes, quilts, trade displays, show bags, kids rides, sideshows etc etc etc.

We went today...Peoples Day...us and a mere 70 000 other people who streamed through the gates. Our small  family of five, including one child who has major crowding issues entered a confined area with 70 000 other people all trying to do the same things and see the same things all at the same time. We first went to the showbag pavillion and I think that was the most sensible decision made all day.

Next we tried to leave Sideshow Alley and move into a clearer area. Thats about when Aiden lost it for the first time. He literally crumbled in front of my eyes, lower lip trembling, eyes welling up. I asked him what was wrong and he began to tremble, "Too much, too many people, too much", was all he could get out. I faced him and told him to look at me, focus on me and his breathing. We stood, a little island in a heaving sea of people, protected by Caitie, Conor and Dad. He slowly settled, just a little, we made our way out and went into the Grandstands for a much needed breather and something to eat.

The kids did enjoy seeing the animals, tasting different foods, buying little bits and pieces but it simply was just too busy for me to enjoy it as I was so worried about Aiden. We went into the food pavillion to get a bottle of port from one of the smaller wineries and the crowds again were too much for my brave soldier. He was white and shaking and just overwrought. It didn't seem to matter where we went, there just wasn't room to breathe. As you can see below, he doesn't look his usual self. He couldn't even enjoy the gigantic chocolate fountain behind him!

We did go on some of the rides and he really enjoyed them, I think as they got him out of the crowds. Caitie and Conor went on the Haunted House. We could hear Caities screams from outside! Then all of them, including Dad went on the giant swing and finally some weird ride that made me feel ill just looking at it!

All in all I have to say I didn't enjoy myself as much as I have in previous years. If I want to go in future, I think I will go by myself or with my husband. Caitie is old enough to go on her own next year but I don't think Aiden will be going for a while.

 

One Year On

I wrote this some six  months ago and just found it hadn't been publised....

This time last year we were reeling from the massive floods that tore through the heart of both the Brisbane community and its surrounding townships. At floods end the death toll was 22 including children. Whole towns were wiped away. Brisbane is still coming to terms with the tragedies that surrounded those days.

The Tuesday before the water came down was surreal. There was a hush throughout Brisbane. Our local shopping centre had shops closed as vendors raced for homes that were threatened. While the thunder rumbled overhead we pretended all was good while keeping an uneasy eye on the local creeks. We had shut our shop up as the threat from the floods was a real and present danger.

Wednesday dawned bright and clear, a gorgeous summers day where everyone continued to hold their breath and watch as the river swelled and burst its banks, flooding surrounding suburbs, taking everything in its greedy hands. When it was over we were in shock. But the communities rallied and pulled together. We hitched up our pants, put on our wellies, donned our gloves and grabbed our brooms, dug in and helped out.

Local band and international superstars Powderfinger brought out a Flood Relief single called "I'm On Your Side" to raise funds for those without insurance and nowhere to go. I mean no copyright harm but wish to share the images which broke our hearts.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3VmSaexxSjY

And now, we look to the skies again. Its rained solidly for three days here. Our yard is flooded, the frogs are making out in the trees. Creeks are bursting their banks and there is localised flooding everywhere. Below are images of the Schultz Canal which runs past Toombul Shopping Centre. The rain, combined with an above average King tide, meant that the lower carpark went under, as it always does.

The rain has stopped for the moment. There is more on the way. A sodden Brisbane continues to hold its breath. The Gold Coast is nervous as torrents overflow into swollen Hinterland creeks. And still we wait and watch.

My Boy....

My Boy, you have done it tough. Your mum left you and your dad, taking your sister with her. Your dad died when you were young and you were raised by your grandparents. You lost your grandad too soon and you grandmother doted on you. We loved you like our own and still do.

When granny died, you lost your way. You thought you found your life partner and had the first of your wonderful kids. Things got worse for you, you fell in with the wrong crowds, you dabbled in crime, you chose the wrong direction time and time again and still we were here for you. You split up with K after doing a stint in jail. You thought things couldn't get worse but you were wrong. Baby S was diagnosed with a heart condition and he lost his battle at ten months.

You got married, had two kids and then split up with their mum. She dumped them in foster care and you did your second stint in jail. Life couldn't get worse and yet it continues to dump on you. You are so angry with everything, you lashed out at us, we could do nothing to help. We have stayed strong, hoping you will find your way back to us. Happiness continues to ellude you.

BUT, through all the hell and the hopelessness, be assured we are here. You are my boy, you have been since I met you and you will be for ever and always. I can be disappointed in you, I can be angry at you but it doesn't mean I stop loving you. Eventually life will get better and we will be there for you. Even if it doesn't for a long time, we are still here for you.

You are my boy and I love you with all my heart,

C