Back to Basics

How easily you forget how things used to be. You think you have it hard until you realize how hard it actually was. That is me...today! Bubba has been off his medication for 17 hours now, and all the symptoms I forgot existed are slowly creeping back in. (To our credit... Evander and I are not testing out some cruel experiment, but Bubba must be off his medication for 7 days in order to have accurate allergy testing performed on Tuesday.)

Last night, after removing his normal dose, I said casually, "It isn't that bad. He acts like this anyway!" By 9:00 am I was on the phone with Our Children's House begging for an occupational therapy appointment. He was, and is, literally bouncing off the walls. He is banging his head on the wall, eating cardboard, and screaming in the highest pitch my ears have ever heard. In a way, I wish I had my pediatrician's home number because I know she would be fascinated by the immediate return of certain behaviors but not others.

For instance, while he is climbing on top of our headboard and free falling onto the bed, he is completely verbal. As he fills his mouth so full of turkey he looks like a squirrel hoarding food for the winter, he is sitting quietly, making sure to use his napkin. After he spins in circles for minutes at a time, he politely asks to watch his favorite show. Why do some behaviors return and others do not? What tells his brain to flap his hands and use his words?

I'm not so sure why but I do know that we have returned to basics. after coming home from therapy I scooped Bubba up and slammed him on the bed over and over and over again. He was then rolled up like a taco and tickled. Next was wrestling and jumping. To many this may sound like child abuse, but to those who know, it is sensory therapy. His senses are overloaded with the sights, sounds, and smells around him. He needs the hard impact play to feel and understand where he is in space.

Autism spectrum disorders are immensely fascinating to me, and, if I had the time, I would love to study all about them. Why does it pick some children and leave others healthy? Why are some children severe and others lightly touched? The answers to these questions I may never know, but I do know that we are one of the lucky ones. He is verbal and relatively independent. He is incredibly intelligent and full of energy.

3 instead of 2

As I sit at Bubba's gymnastics a small girl approaches. She points to Peach, lying in my arms, and exclaims "baby!". Out of nowhere a woman in her mid-thirties appears and says, "Yes...baby!", and I immediately place the girl with the woman as she continues, "So... do you have three?" "Yes..." I reply. "How is it? With 3 I mean? Is it any different than 2? We have thought about having another, and I just don't think it would be any more hectic with 3 than with the 2 I have," this perfect stranger confides. I chuckle to myself and say, "The chaos was already there, but now it is chaos for 3 instead of 2."

My day began at 3:48 am as Peach begins to stir. I fumble for a pacifier but it doesn't satisfy her, so I sit up and reach for a bottle. After a rough night, I can barely hold my eyes open as I feed her. After eating, she is restless just as she has been all night. Tossing and turning, fussing and kicking. At about 5 am, she settles down and I begin to doze off when I hear the bells jingle. No... it isn't Santa Claus but it is Bubba. I waken Evander to head off Bubba before he can pounce on the still-sleeping Baby, safely tucked away in her bed, but he is too late.

I, then, hear the growing whine of a newly woken Baby, which instantly turns into a high-pitched scream, "MMMMMOOOOOOOMMMMMYYYYY!" Before I know it, she is standing at my side, explaining that Bubba woke her up and asking for me to put her back to bed. "I can't, Baby, because I'm holding Peach and she JUST went to sleep. Daddy will put you back!" "NNOOOO! I WANT YOU TO!" Evander comes in and scoops her up to put her in bed as she screams all the way back down the hallway.

I force myself to emerge from the toasty warm bed to begin getting ready for the day. In between yelling at Bubba to leave Peach alone, Evander and I manage to take showers and get dressed. Next is time to get Bubba dressed, which is like watching a turtle cross the road. You know he will get there, but you have no idea just how long it may take. Finally, Bubba has managed to put on his shirt and underwear when Baby is back again, jumping on the bed and waking Peach up. Somehow, amidst screaming, whining, and crying we manage to get all three children dressed and fed in time to be out the door by 7:30 for our 8 am ARD meeting at Bubba's school.

In order to make Bubba think it is a normal day, Evander drops him off at school and circles back into the parking lot to meet Baby, Peach and I. While waiting to be called back for our meeting, I schedule an appointment with the pediatrician for Peach. I had a feeling our bad night was due to an ear infection. Just as I hang up, the diagnostician calls us into the meeting room. In the meeting Evander and I advocate for appropriate goals for our son while juggling Baby, who hasn't stopped asking questions since she awoke, and Peach, who now has a fever and green snotty nose. As the meeting ends, I tell Bubba's teacher, "I'm going to need to get him now, so if you could just bring him up that would be great." Yes... he has only been at school an hour but Peach has a Dr appointment in an hour and the possibility that I won't be home in time to get Bubba off the bus doesn't sit well with me.

After running home to change a dirty diaper and grab another bottle, we are in the pediatrician's waiting room, where Bubba has created his own obstacle course (over the coffee table, under the chair, over the arm rests, and jump over the garbage can). The pediatrician's office always reminds me of what it must be like to be a dog catcher. I am constantly running after someone and catching them, only for them to get loose and run like hell all over again.

After learning that Peach indeed has her second ear infection, we drop off her prescription at Walgreen's, speed through the McDonald's drive through (where I yell "If you want to eat lunch today, you better do it now!"), and park at gymnastics. I quickly jump out of my seat as if I was launched and clean the smeared food from their faces as they hop out of the car. We are running into gymnastics when I realize that Bubba has NO shoes on. Oh well... he doesn't need any for gymnastics anyway. I push Bubba through the door, plop down into a chair, and extract a screaming and very hungry Peach from her seat.

As I sit at Bubba's gymnastics a small girl approaches. She points to Peach, lying in my arms, and exclaims "baby!". Out of nowhere a woman in her mid-thirties appears and says, "Yes...baby!", and I immediately place the girl with the woman as she continues, "So... do you have three?" "Yes..." I reply. "How is it? With 3 I mean? Is it any different than 2? We have thought about having another, and I just don't think it would be any more hectic with 3 than with the 2 I have," this perfect stranger confides. I chuckle to myself and say, "The chaos was already there, but now it is chaos for 3 instead of 2. I wouldn't change a thing!"