BALL OF CONFUSION
November 18, 2015

This morning Cole had a strange reaction to our discussing two upcoming parties we’ve been invited that somewhat conflict, more like overlap, and as he grew more and more upset, I was both struck by how ridiculous his reaction was and by how poorly my every attempt to calm him down. There’s nothing worse than starting the day off with tears and confusion.

It’s one of those times when I’m reminded of how hard it must be for him not to be able to express himself adequately, and how hard it is for my husband and I to always guess correctly. There’s so much assuming when dealing with Cole and his communication. In the instance this morning, I think he must have misheard, or jumped to a conclusion in what he heard, which upset him, and from that point he was fully committed to his reaction.

Honestly, I cannot imagine not having the ability to talk. I talk to myself. I talk to Cole incessantly – a habit I developed when he was young. I talk. As a kid, my parents joked that if we went on a long road trip, they could literally just sit back and I’d talk continuously throughout the whole journey, however long it may have been, often without noticing that no one else was joining in. My brother would immediately fall asleep, and I rambled.

It pains me to know that more often than I’d like to think, we’re missing the real point of what Cole is feeling, wanting, or trying to communicate. It also saddens me that he cannot always communicate a question to clarify something, or that we cannot adequately suppose that there is a misunderstanding or confusion. Even with the support of his communication device, it can be difficult for him to clarify his understanding or needs.

And of course, I constantly wonder what’s going on that beautiful brain of his. His inability to verbalize or vocalize his thoughts has no bearing on the thoughts running through his head. If I could have a super power, it would be to read minds, more specifically, to read his mind.

 

FRUSTRATION
November 17, 2015

The high school search continues. (Screaming loudly in my head)

I have a tour this week, one right after Thanksgiving, and another two just before the winter holiday break.

In a crazy attempt to find a good school, I thought today, at the suggestion of a colleague, to try in my work district. We live in LAUSD (Los Angeles Unified School District) and I work in Beverly Hills, which has its own, fairly well funded, highly coveted school district, BHSD. I called to see if I could permit in since I work in the area and could be his primary transportation. A no go. They stopped accepting permits from outsiders, other than from actual City employees.

It was worth a shot.

The truth is, it probably wouldn’t have been better for Cole academically speaking anyway, but it would be in a safe neighborhood on a clean, accessible campus. Sadly we’re kind of down to those being highlights.

I’m touring our home school in a couple of week, if only to rule it out. After speaking to their special education counselor, I learned that the campus is accessible (“Yes, it has stairs”) and that it’s safe (“We have several police officers patrolling the campus, but we can’t control what goes on outside the gates”) so I’m feeling really confident about it. (Typed dripping with sarcasm, in case it didn’t translate in the writing). I’m having a really hard time mustering any enthusiasm for that tour!

I continue to be perplexed by how hard it is to find a decent placement for children with special needs, who want to attend typical school programs, but need some support either for their physical needs, or accessibility to the school work. Cole has only known inclusion. He’s been included since he was a year old. 80% of his friends are typical kids. He doesn’t understand that the world outside our little bubble isn’t as welcoming or accepting of people who are different. It’s starting to feel like a cruel joke. It feels a little like being thrown to the wolves.

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I don’t know what trumps a wolf, but I’m preparing for battle, and victory.

 

THAT OLD FEELING
November 16, 2015

No matter what your circumstances, marriage is hard. Whenever you have two different people approaching anything together there’s bound to be some give and take, and when it’s creating a life together, and raising a child together, the potential for discontent becomes greater.

Throw in a child with special needs, who impacts your lives in many ways a typical child does not, the discontent grows. You can’t blame your child for the impact he has on your life. For the most part, his presence in your life is glorious, as with any child. But his needs will always take precedent and his influence is felt in nearly every decision.

Cole’s now fourteen, an age when many teens are starting to spend a couple of hours or more in the house alone whilst the parent(s) are out running errands, grabbing a bite of lunch with friends, working out, going to a movie, whatever. It’s an age where a lot of teens are also going out on their own, to the mall, parties, the movies, etc. Unfortunately, that’s not us, and it’s not Cole.

I’m certain Cole would love the opportunity to have the freedom to hang out with friends, doing something fun with out parents or adults. But he needs someone to support him, even if it’s just pushing his wheelchair, and making sure he’s included in the activity. The opportunity has never come up, not yet, but it’s also not something we can impose on his friends.

We don’t have great childcare at the moment and moving him is so much harder on him since the surgery, which leaves us with little opportunity for date nights and the like. Not having alone time puts a lot of stress on a marriage. You’d think not spending time together would prevent it but I find the disconnect makes things so much harder. It often feels like two people moving through a life side by side, but not together.

I’ve given it a lot of thought because my husband was traveling quite a bit these past months and given to my own devices, I create my own routines and it’s then hard for him to break back in to the fold. We bickered and bitched for the first weeks that he was home, and just this weekend things started to feel reconnected. We didn’t pick on one another, we accomplished things, and we relaxed a bit. I’m hopeful that we can continue on this path for the next few months where he’s homebound and not traveling. It’s nice to see glimpses of “us” again.

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RUN THE WORLD
November 10, 2015

I have two nieces who I love to pieces. Sorry, couldn’t resist. I always think of that cartoon where the cat hates meeces to pieces…I want to say the Pixie and Dixie Show? Jinx the Cat? Anyway, I adore my two nieces…to pieces.

Emily is seventeen and senior in high school. She’s currently sending out her college applications, narrowed down to something like fifteen from forty! She’s looking at schools all over the country with an interest in computer science. Em plays on the varsity volleyball team at her high school and in league as well. She also played water polo for a season in high school.

She’s been part of a junior leadership program at Cedars Sinai for several years as well as volunteered as a candy striper. She also has been involved with some girls empowerment seminars at her school and was selected to be a part of the Girls That Code internship program this past summer, doing a seven week , 9-5, stint at the Honest Company. She’s impressive.

Emily

Emily

Her sister, Devon, is fourteen, almost fifteen. She is a freshman in high school, and plays on the varsity volleyball team as well. She is in fact one of the top players on the team. She’s one of the top players in her age group in the country. She plays both indoor and beach volleyball and is getting a lot of notice. She too plays in league, and for the US National High Performance beach volleyball team, in the 17 and under category…one of ten girls. She’s impressive.  It’s going to be interesting to see where her interests take her through high school.

Devon

Devon

Besides their shared love of volleyball, the girls are actually quite unique. Emily is more serious than Devon, and Devon is more artistically inclined. They’re both bright, kind and beautiful. I love having nieces because it gives me a chance to get my girlie on, especially when they were younger.

Even though we live in the same area, I don’t get to see to them nearly as often as I’d like. The circumstances of my life are a big factor – between work and taking care of Cole, it’s tough to find time that works with their busy schedules. With Emily perhaps attending a university on the other side of the country, it has me wanting to see them more. It will be so different with her, and then Devon, away on their own, finding their own place away from the family. Cole and I are already plotting out our care packages! Monthly letters, photos and treats!

Tonight I finally have a chance to see them both play together on the same team in the playoffs for their high school volleyball league. The stars aligned – the game is near my office, starts at 7 pm (later than usual), and I’ll be there, cheering for my darling nieces. Whoo Hoo!!!

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I HATE MY SCHOOL
November 3, 2015

We’re in the process of looking at high school options for Cole. Sadly we soon will leave the inclusive nest of CHIME and throw him to the wolves known as LAUSD public high school.

It’s terrifying. The main realization I’ve come to is that children who are differently abled or different learners are not exactly welcome when it comes to high schools. The effort or cost to actually provide any sort of education to this population is not deemed worthwhile.

There are little opportunities to create a class schedule that would allow children who need support, physical or otherwise, in the classroom to learn in a typical high school classroom. In an overly crowded classroom with 45 desks, there’s not even physical room for a child in a wheelchair to maneuver or settle.

Our home school is not a viable option for Cole. Four different local gangs (so I probably don’t need to further explain why he’s never going to go there) rule the campus, so safety becomes a huge concern, and it’s not geared for kids with physical needs. I’ve toured a couple of schools so far and have several more to visit over the next month before we have to start making decisions and applying.

The one thing I’ve come to understand is that there will be very little opportunities for Cole to be included in, what I’ve come to fondly call “gen pop”. He’ll be relegated to special day classes where the classes are slightly smaller, the curriculum is modified to differently abled learners and where he can have someone with him to support both his physical needs and to help him access his classwork.

Part of me understands why high school has to be like this. They’re under-funded; overcrowded, and under-trained when it comes to inclusion. I also have no illusions about my son’s ability to keep up at class level without considerable support and modifications to his work. I do get the simple argument but to me it’s more complicated, and it’s more of a civil rights issue.

No child left behind means that no child should go without an adequate education. It doesn’t seem like our public high schools are even taking the first step towards providing a decent education for children with special needs. There’s a population of over twenty percent of our children who are left without real opportunity to have a true high school education and experience. It’s heartbreaking and it’s wrong.

Besides the placement of being in special day classes, there is little opportunity for any social interaction with gen pop. One school offered the possibility of him taking an elective each semester that would allow him to be in a gen pop classroom. Cole’s a very social being. He thrives on the interaction and friendship from typical children. He’s always made friends with typical kids and has never been a setting where he’s only among children with special needs. His criteria for friendship are all about shared interests and experiences. Even educationally, his typical peers motivate him. He wants to show them he can do things, what he’s learned, what he’s capable of. I fear that relegating him to special day classes will leave him lonely and unmotivated, and eventually depressed.

It sounds dire. It feels dire. I loathe this experience. I know that wherever he ends up, we will be right there in the trenches advocating for everything possible that can make his experience more inclusive and more tailored to his capabilities rather than disabilities. I know it will take a lot of work and diligence. I’m prepared to be the loudest squeaking wheel in the school if that’s what it takes to ensure he has a positive high school experience.

I just wish that there were more interest and support in educating all children from the schools. There are too many children who are being left behind.

PHENOMENAL CAT
November 2, 2015

Prior to Cole having his surgery I read a funny article about the healing power of a cat’s purr (Healing Power of Cat’s Purr). I shared it with my husband because we have a cat, Charlie, and I thought it was kind of interesting. He scoffed at the idea, as he’s apt to do when I share something off the beaten path, and particularly when it comes to health or medical related subjects.

Charlie is about twelve years old. We adopted him when Cole was two, along with his brother (Nick) and sister (Nora), both of whom are no longer with us. Charlie’s a fairly independent cat. He’s always liked Cole and as he’s aged he often tries to sleep on Cole’s back or bottom (Cole prefers to sleep on his stomach), but otherwise, we don’t typically see much of him during the day. Charlie spends his days sunning outside, visiting a few neighborhood dogs and cats, and doing whatever cats do. He relishes his independence.

However, Charlie’s routine took curious turn when Cole came home from the hospital following his surgery. Charlie became a caregiver. He took to vigilantly curling up between the casts during the day and night or draping himself over one of Cole’s legs with his head resting on Cole’s hip, purring. Purring a lot. Purring healing purrs.

He spent every day of Cole’s healing nestled on or near Cole. We took to calling him Nurse Charlie because he was so consistent. When Cole was moved to another room, Charlie would curl up in the spot left by Cole until he returned and then would reposition himself to be close to his charge. It was really fascinating. He took his nursing duties very seriously.

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Even now that Cole’s returned to his usual routine and is out of the house during weekdays, Charlie still hovers nearby and curls up with him for bedtime. It’s rare that if Cole’s resting on the bed, Charlie’s not nestled right next to him. It seems he’s not quite ready to stop caring for his precious patient.

Funnily, my husband and I both took to posting #NurseCharlie photos on our instagram accounts and when he was recently away on business he had lots of inquiry about Nurse Charlie. It would appear that our cat has captured some hearts. Perhaps he needs his own instagram account!

SEE THE LIGHT
September 11, 2015

This week has been all about filling my mental toolbox.

I’ve come to realize that if I want to successfully help Cole with is anxiety I need to arm myself with some useful tools and strategies. My approach, generally to try to reassure him that everything is going to be all right and to spell out every step of each day so that he has a complete understanding of the days expectations isn’t working, even just a little bit. Last night I started reading a book about dealing with kid and teen anxiety and they eschewed my instinctive actions practically from the first page, so I have some reading to do this weekend to see if I myself can get a better understanding of anxiety and methods for supporting Cole.

I am also adding some creative tools to my box. I have quite a few DIY home projects I want to work on and while I’m not necessarily a builder, designer, or mason (some involve brickwork!), I do have some visionary qualities and want to build on that. Saturday night I’m attending an art party where I’ll paint and drink wine, both with the intention of sparking my creativity. I’m not a painter, but it sounds fun and I’ve come to realize that I don’t pursue fun enough. I need to play more!

I’ve also recognized that I have a tendency to procrastinate so I’ve been working on moving myself forward instead of being stagnant. The summer left me a bit shell shocked and I felt like I didn’t accomplish any of the little projects I had wanted to take care of whilst being tethered to the home front. Now they are all screaming at me to take care of them!  Each little task that gets handled makes me feel lighter, and brighter.

Even though things are still in flux and Cole’s still not back to his old self entirely, I realized that me standing still isn’t going to help anyone.

On a really positive note today, Cole happily stood up for about ten minutes at his physical therapy evaluation…Maybe he realized that moving forward even just upward, is better for him too!

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HEAT WAVE
September 10, 2015

Fair warning…this is my little bitch fest today…I’m sick of hot weather!

And I’m watching one of my colleagues unload the contents of his refrigerator into our office fridge because he’s without power in his apartment due to the current heat wave. It’s topping 106 in Woodland Hills where Cole goes to school, and close to 100 in the city for the third day in a row.

It’s the kind of heat that has weight and tremendous volume. It hits when you step outside and encloses your being, stifling any desire to move further into its awaiting embrace.

Of course the heat, even extreme heat like this, is not usual to Southern California. I can think of two different years when we had to move to a hotel for a couple of night when our power went out due to widespread overuse.

Despite being a native of Los Angeles, of the San Fernando Valley in fact (I am an original Valley Girl circa 1982 song fame), I find the heat intolerable. I’m not a fan. It makes me cranky, sweaty (and I deal with hormonal sweat even in freezing weather so heat induced sweat just sucks), and lethargic. It’s hard to motivate to do much of anything when it’s so hot.

Cars are hot, bedding is hot, and my office is freezing! Dressing is odd because I need a sweater at work but if I step outside I melt. Being good community partners, we set our house thermostat so that it stays off during the day when no one is home but it takes hours to cool down once bodies are in the house so it’s never really completely comfortable these day.

I don’t like sleeping when it’s nearly 80 degrees in my room. Poor Cole is wrapped up in bracing that’s made of plastic and other synthetics that don’t breathe so he’s reduced to a puddle of boy come morning, though he’s more tolerant of the heat than I am. At least I think he is…Perhaps I’m just more vocal?

Thankfully, it’s supposed to start cooling down after the weekend…for a few days anyway. I have memories of actually hosting Thanksgiving dinners outside in the backyard because it was still nice and warm…sigh.

PAIN & SUFFERING
September 8, 2015

This past weekend seemed longer than the long weekend actually was, if that makes sense. I continue to be frustrated in my inability to discern the nuances of Cole’s pain and anxiety. I find it odd that nearly three months out from the surgery he’s still in so much pain and discomfort. It doesn’t seem to be improving at all. My husband suggested we take him to see his surgeon a few weeks ago and at the time I thought it unnecessary, and he didn’t push it. Now I kind of regret it. We have a long set follow up appointment with her next week so at this point it makes the most sense to wait for that but the fact that he still seems so fragile physically, and mentally (which is a totally different beast) concerns me.

He came home Friday and cried for well over an hour. Not a whimpering cry, but a wailing, heart wrenching cry. Nothing I did helped or consoled him. He just cried himself out.

My husband was still away and friends had kindly brought a birthday party to me as it was my actual birthday. Cole was excited to hangout with his friends (their children) and to watch Pitch Perfect 2 with the gang. While the moms sat in the backyard enjoying champers and cheese, the gaggle of kids watched the movie, shuffled around the living room, talking and laughing, and Cole slept more soundly than when he’s tucked in bed. He slept through the movie, the singing of happy birthday, eating of cupcakes, and gentle hugs and kisses to his sleeping self as everyone piled out. He slept through me moving him, pajamaing him, and slept pretty soundly till morning.

Saturday we were supposed to hang out with my mom and Cole and she had plans to take me out for birthday sukiyaki (a word that Cole finds hilarious!).   However, when I suggested we start getting ready to go pick her up, he outright panicked, and continued to do so for the rest of the day. He couldn’t seem to stop himself from hyperventilating and worrying about every movement, touch or suggestion of change. He finally admitted to me that right now he needs his Saturdays so be plan free and that he only wants to hang out in my room, resting on the bed, watching TV or movies. No suggestions of going out, no trying to move him to different rooms. I don’t understand, and I don’t really like it but if he feels like it will help him regroup after the week or whatever, I’ll respect it. For now…

Sunday I managed to get him out of my room because my brother and sister-in-law surprised us with coffee & bagels, so I just moved Cole. He wasn’t pleased but he settled down fairly quickly and enjoyed hanging with them. His dad got home while they were there too which helped boost his day even more. The three of us actually got out of the house for a bit and he enjoyed some bath time.

Monday though was more of the same refusal to leave the bedroom. He just struggled to hold it together all day. It’s really starting to freak me out, and to worry me. I’m so unsure of what’s physically paining him and what’s mentally debilitating him. Both seem daunting on their own but pair the two, and throw in normal teenage hormones and stresses and then try to figure out what’s what and how to help. I honestly can’t. As a mother, it’s the worst feeling in the world to know that you simply have no answers, solutions, or comfort for your child.

We’ll see what the week brings. Lately he’s done so well during school hours, and at homework club, and then falls apart when he returns home. I tried finding solutions to that last week with some success, but I’m not confident that this week will be the same, though I’m not sure it could be any worse. Mustering a little optimism, maybe it will be better for him…

HERE FOR YOU
September 3, 2015

I’ve been solo parenting for a week now with a few more days to go while my husband is in Santiago on business. After the strange summer we had, all being on top of one another for a full two months, and the quick fire return to our work/school routine, I found myself kind of looking forward to having a little Cole/mom time.

Historically, when my husband travels, which is fairly consistent throughout the year, Cole and I have a pretty easy time. I’m not keen on the driving aspect of it (I’m driving him to school and myself to work – a minimum of 2 hours in the car each morning and then the same at the end of the day!) but love being the one to bring him home from school, go through his day and backpack, run through school and homework with him, and finally have some hangout time together. I usually miss this part of his routine because I get home from work two hours after my husband gets Cole home from school.

The past days have been much harder than I anticipated. The fact that Cole is still so utterly emotionally fragile following the surgery and summer makes everything harder. He’s less inclined to even attempt communicating and collapses upon arrival home.

Friday, the first day of our solo time, he cried for nearly an hour and I was never successful at finding out what was wrong. Even during the weekend, he was clingy and anxious, but I did eventually learn, after many conversations, that one of the reasons he has a hard time when he gets home from his school day (8am-5pm), is that he during the day at school, with his friends and teachers, he makes every effort to not let anyone see that he’s in pain or uncomfortable. He puts on a smile and works his way through the school day seemingly fine. So when he gets home, all of that held back anxiety, pain, and energy just spills out, uncontrollably.

Monday I learned another reason. Prior to the surgery, he spent a good part of his day on his feet in a gait trainer, either walking or just standing, bearing weight. Now he’s spending the entire day in his wheelchair and his body is stiff and sore when he gets home and is moved to his chill out chair or to a bed to sit on. Because he seems to find relief or comfort from wearing the knee immobilizers at night, I suggested we try putting them on right when he gets home to see if that helped with the transition. Voila! Mom’s a genius.

We’ve now had two nearly tear free, whine free post school evenings and I’m looking forward to a third tonight. Even more so, I’m looking forward to taking him to physical therapy this afternoon. He’s been doing it for a few weeks now as prescribed by his surgeon and I haven’t been able to attend. I took him to the eye doctor Tuesday afternoon, which also felt like a treat.

We have a winner!  The new glasses...

We have a winner! The new glasses…

Doctors appointments and therapies used to be my arena before I started working full time, and before my husband started working five minutes from Cole’s school. I miss the connection with Cole and his doctors and therapists.

I’m glad to have the chance to support him this week.  Even when it’s hard, I treasure my one on one time with Cole. It gives us a chance to reconnect and share the simple and not so simple every day moments that when woven together bond us.