Thursday, September 13, 2007

Follow the Promptings

... even if it leads you to greasy McDonald's.
This morning after a crazy morning of a dentist appointment for Ms. R, running a few errands, observing Ms. R at recess (I'll talk about that later) I was on my way home at 10:42 when I felt the overwhelming urge to go to McDonalds for lunch. Everything in me was like, "ICK! No!" Greasy, not even lunch time yet, ect. I couldn't deny the "urge" to stop by a particular McDonalds even though we passed two other ones on the way there. As I pulled into the parking lot I noticed the only other car there had an Autism ribbon magnet on the back bumper. In passing I hoped for the opportunity to talk with the owner of the car then casually dismissed the thought as B-Man and I headed into the restaurant. Just after I finished ordering a lady comes up to the register to complain that her drink is very untastey and would like to exchange it. As she's talking I hear a wailing start up in the play area, she whips around and then goes rushing into the play area. The woman comes back out carrying a little girl, explains that her daughter fell of the bench, now has a red spot on her back and requests a ice pack. As her daughter continues to wail she turns to me very apologetically, "I'm sorry, she has Autism, all of her emotions are a little overwhelming." I tell her I understand, that my son also has Autism. We both gather our requested items, head into the play area and continue to talk for the next hour. She gives me insights, ideas, reassurance and her number to call. After only an hour of talking it through, discussing feelings and events and common behaviours with another mother I am completely exhausted emotionally. We both agree, this disorder is extremely overwhelming not only because it is not addressed or acknowledged by the government or most health agencies. But because there are so many conflicting reports, treatments and ideas behind it. We're in for a long bumpy ride.
Back to Ms. R. Yesterday B-Man and I went into share lunch with her. As we talked about her day I asked her who she'd played with at recess (trying to open up a conversation about OTHER kids she can play with) and she said no one. I admit, I was a bit skeptical. All 4 Kindy classes go out for recess at the same time, which means there are around 70 kids for her to associate with during the 15 minutes they are out playing. This morning her dentist appointment ran till just before morning recess. So after I dropped her off, I stuck around to observe what happens during recess - from an adults perspective. It was a mixture of anger and sadness as I watched her wander around the playground forlornly. Switching between approaching various groups of girls playing (then the girls turning their backs on Ms. R, or running away) and swinging on monkey bars alone. I think I physically felt Ms. R's relief when the whistle was blown indicating end of recess. There is nothing I'd like more than to fix this, but I don't know how. My heart hurts for my baby.
All in all, a very emotionally draining morning.
On an up note - Ms. R's dentist is VERY nice. She did very well for her first time and got a bunch of fun treasures for being such a brave girl. The two teeth I was worried about because of a white-ish build up on them are actually enamel that developed differently because of the trauma that area endured during the development stage. Dr. Cremer said that her adult teeth won't come in looking like that because they developed after that stage. She has a small jaw like me and her teeth are crowding, which means, like mom - she'll more than likely need to be fitted for a retainer in a couple of years.
An Update on me ... Hmmm ... After Jenie, Michael and their kids left I realized that I could do so much more organizing and dejunking of my house. So I started going through my cupboards, closets and shelves, ect and tossing what ever I hadn't used in the past year or had expired (I had a lot of medicine that was past the "best before" date). It felt really good. When I contemplated why my house had got this way, with all this built up crap ... it's because I just keep thinking, "Well, when we move..." and that move NEVER comes. I've never had a reason to dejunk other than just keeping things clutter free and organized, which is fine and good. Unless you're me and used to moving every 2 or so years, so you're anticipating that big reason to get your act cleaned up (or in my case, your house better organized). Slowly but surely my house is falling into line and looking and feeling more like I'd like it to.

5 comments:

Jenie said...

I thinks its wonderful that were able to connect with someone who truly understands what you are going through with Brogan. As for Rhiannon, my heart is breaking right a long with yours, she is such a sweet little girl and deserves to be treated kindly. Kids can be so cruel. I wish we could help. Love Ya!

Jenie said...

By the way yes CFL teams have cheerleaders.

mom said...

do you have any idea why Rhiannon is having such a hard time making friends this time around she did so well last year everyone loved her? My hearts breaking for her love mom

TinaLaRae said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
TinaLaRae said...

I also ask Pacey who she plays with at recess and her answer is the same as Rhiannon's. She seems pretty ok with it but I still feel for her. The only thing I suggest is seeing if there are any girls that she might like to have a play date with, I hear so many girls going over to friends after school and I have not encouraged that with my girls but am starting to have Pacey have some one over once every 2 weeks (for now) for 2 hours just so she can interact and find a friend. I usually go to the $ store and buy some cheap crafts for them to do if they get bored. I also send a few "cool" snacks to school with her in the event that one of the kids forgot to bring anything or to even have the other kids want to do the "I'll trade you?" thing. It brings interaction between her and the others. It has happened and it makes her feel good when she can share or trade.