The Right To Grieve

When I was young there was a special person in my life.  This person was not in my daily life but I did hear from them and see them periodically.  It was not unusual to go a couple of months without a word.

One day my brain did one of those fast leaps from subject to subject and suddenly I realised I had not heard or seen this person in a very long time.  I went to ask my mother about this person and without even looking at me she tells me that this person died over a year ago.  I was shocked.  I asked her why she hadn't told me and she said she didn't think I would be able to handle it.

I was 13 years old when this happened.

Nicholas had been fortunate enough to not have to deal with losing a family member.  However, several months ago he realised my grandmother died before he was born and it really upset him.  From time to time he brings it up again and it upsets him.  I hug him and kiss him and soon he's ok again.

Last week things changed.  Last week he experienced his first loss.

After a good grooming.

During Nicholas' first year of life we lived with my sister.  When he was about 6 months old (give or take) my sister took him with her (an errand or something).  When they returned I heard the car pull up to the driveway, heard her turn off the car and heard her open and close her door.  I then heard her open a second door and I knew she was taking Nicholas out in his car seat.  Then I heard her shouting.  I rushed to the door and see her holding the carseat up and a little white dog on her hind legs batting up at it.  Every movement my sister made the dog followed.  She started coming towards the front door and said that the dog came out of nowhere.

It was hot, it had been a hot week, and we knew this dog had to be thirsty so we gave her some water.  She was friendly so we figured she was lost but we had never seen her before.  She was the ugliest little dog I had ever seen.  It looked like she had gotten an awful haircut making her look skinny and weird.  Since she didn't have a collar but could tell it was a girl we started calling her Lady.  After several days of walking her around the neighbourhood to see if someone recognised her they decided to take her to the vet and see if she was microchipped.  They found out she was not microchipped and that she was a poodle with a bad haircut.  So they decided to keep her.

She immediately took to Nicholas.  My sister said that when she put the carseat on the ground to close the door Lady came running towards him.  She was always near him and when he cried she would cry.  This would become Nicholas' dog.

We moved out of my sister's house when Nicholas was 2 years old but he continued to visit on a regular basis.  When I started working full time he was there daily.  Lady's small size made her perfect for him.

On Thursday of last week Lady's time on Earth ended.  She was old and her body was not holding up anymore.  I had to make the decision of how to tell Nicholas this news.  To complicate things not only had he told Lady to get better because he didn't want her to die that morning before going to school, his aunt was leaving on vacation that evening.  He would not be back at that house for a whole week.


I have made a vow not to lie to him and this was no exception, I knew I had to tell him.  But Thursday evening after so much change didn't seem wise.  I had no idea how he would take it, how hard it would be on him.  I didn't want him to have a bad night and have him have a bad day at school on Friday.  I made the decision to wait until Friday evening when I got home from work.  This way I would have time to do some research as to how best to handle the situation and if he took it extra hard then we could stay up cuddling without worry.  And then have two whole days to be there, at will, if he needed extra hugs.

Everything I read confirmed my decision.  At his age and understanding level he needs to be told the truth sooner rather than later and that it had to be an honest discussion not sugar coated with deceiving language or well intentioned lies.  So on Friday, after I had been home for a little while, I sat down with him to talk.

Nicholas was very upset and it was the hardest half hour I have ever experienced.  He was completely devastated.  I can honestly say that watching your child in such pain is worse than experiencing it yourself.

"I loved her so much."
"This makes me feel very sad."
"I didn't want her to die."
"I don't like to feel like this."
"I want her to come back."
"I will miss her so much."
"All I have is memories."
"She was a special dog."

It was heart breaking for me to see him in such pain and not be able to do anything but hold him tight, knowing that there was nothing I could tell him that would make it all better, knowing that there was nothing I could do that would fix it.

But slowly he stopped talking.  Then his crying calmed.  I cleaned his face and he was sad but ok.  I knew it wasn't the end of it, that he would continue to have episodes of this kind of sadness off and on for a while.  But I didn't know for how long, and that was unsettling.  We gave him a treat (ice cream makes everything at least a little better) and made sure he knew it was ok to feel sad and angry and it was ok to come get hugs when he needed it.

It's hard.  And I know many parents have had to go through this with their children.  I know every child is different and reacts differently to the death of a loved one.  I know some relationships are harder than others, losing a parent is more difficult than losing a pet.  And I know that no matter how much a parent prepares or tries, that helping a child grieve is heartbreaking and difficult.  Especially when the parent is grieving too.  But it must be done.

Children have the right to grieve.

And I believe that if a child understands the concept of death, if they understand that it means the person or animal is no longer with us and will not be with us in the physical form again, then they have the right to know when someone they love has died.  They have the right to go through the grieving process at the time of death and not be kept in the dark.  Just because it is difficult and painful does not mean the adults have the right to make things easier on themselves with lies.  It is selfish and irresponsible.

It hasn't been easy and I've begun to second guess my approach, my choice in words, if maybe I should have held on to him a little longer.  Or maybe cleaned his face sooner.  But I know these details will fade and he will ultimately remember that I told him his beloved pet had died and that I held him close and let him cry.  I take comfort that he will not have to one day realise that she did not run away or get lost and then wonder what else I may have lied to him about.

I was lied to, I always wonder.



Sweet Lady, you will be missed.

Misleading "Truths," New Truths

As 2015 comes to a close, I find myself reflecting on this year and what we have been through, what we have learned.  Specifically, what we now know about Nicholas and his Autism that we did not know in 2014.  And, in turn, what we now know about me and my family.

Eight!

I know I’m two weeks late, but life is too busy to spend time in front of a computer typing.  This is good, we are spending more time together!  But it’s also not so good, leisure time to do stuff is rare.

Anyway, Nicholas is 8 years old now.  I guess it’s important to compare how he is today to how he was a year ago.  What has happened in a year?  A lot.  He has physically grown, which is always a plus medically but a bit sad personally.  He no longer fits nicely in my arms though we still try quite often.

Reading

Seeing Nicholas struggle with reading has been real difficult for me. He learned his alphabet real early and could point out letters by two. We would do letter flash cards and he would know all the letters in any order presented to him. He also learned the sounds to most letters. At two years old, I thought I would have an "early" reader.

But that was it.

Then he regressed.

It should have worried me when shortly after his 4^th birthday I pointed to his name and asked him what he said. He looked at me blankly. I asked him what the first letter was and his response was "B." I thought he was being silly, just not interested. But that was to be the way it would be. He no longer knew which letters where what and letters and numbers were the same to him. While I understood confusing an "O" with a "0" I didn’t know how he didn’t see "7" as seven.

I remember watching him push all the button on his microwave attached to his play kitchen. He pushed them in order, one by one, and calling, "I, S, E, H, S, B, T, B, P, O." He was about three years old when this happened and while I found it odd, red flags did not come up.

By the time he started kindergarten he knew the alphabet once again, though confusing letters such as "b" and "d" and he could not write any letters. He could recognize him name. I felt that would be enough to get him started. But that just wasn’t the case.

The first half of kindergarten was a nightmare for all of us. He would not be writing any letters, with prompting and help, until the end of kindergarten. First grade saw a lot of progress. He began trying to spell words and though they were mostly incorrect his attempts were genuine and you could tell what he was thinking. I still have the paper on which he wrote "wtr" to let me know he wanted some water. It was very special. At the end of first grade he had a couple of kindergarten sight words down and he could copy words but his penmanship was almost illegible.

During the summer I was determined to not only not let him forget what he had learned but to also get him to make progress. I came up with a curriculum that included daily writing and sight word flash cards. He resisted a bit but did make excellent progress. He started reading level 1 books with help. I was proud.

The second day of second grade I get a call from his new teacher. Amongst other things she wanted to know what had happened to Nicholas over the summer. The child she was seeing did not match the report she received from the first grade teacher. He knew many kindergarten sight words and some first grade words too. He was blending sounds and reading. I beamed.

School has been in session for a month and a half and he is making progress.

Several months ago we started a subscription to Zoobooks. I knew he wouldn’t be able to read them but thought we could read them together and by the time he could read them on his own he would need to re-read them anyway. So yesterday he was flipping through the pages of one of the books. I spotted a short description next to an image and I asked him to read it to me. His anxiety kicked in and he was stumbling. I started breaking down the words, showing him they were sound combinations he knew. After two words he was reading. He was actually reading a Zoobooks magazine!

It was wonderful.

He is no where near the reading level is supposed to be at. But the way I see it, he is reading no worst than I was at the beginning of second grade. Actually, I know he is reading better than I was. Back then reading didn’t start in kindergarten and no real reading was done until second grade. So he is doing well. And making progress.

8 Years Ago

I don't recall off the top of my head if I've shared much about my pregnancy here before.  I'm remembering one post but not much else.  Anyway, my pregnancy wasn't great.  It wasn't awful and I didn't have major complications but it wasn't the glorious walk in the park we all hope it will be.

It was stressful.  So very, very stressful.  What made it the most stressful was that I was not sure if I would be handed a child with Down Syndrome or not.  I refused the amniocentesis which left me with two positive screening tests and contradictory ultrasounds.

But on this day, 8 years ago, I met my little shrimp for the first time.  I saw him squirming on the screen and heard his tiny heart beat.  I was told he wasn't quite right and more tests would be needed.  The words "markers" and "trisomy 21" were uttered for the first time or many yet to come.  And on this day, 8 years ago, I looked at that weird looking thing on the screen and told him he was a keeper, regardless of what he had in store for us.

Choosing To Help

One of my parenting principles is not requiring my child(ren) to help.  I believe that by teaching compassion they will WANT to help out of the goodness of their heart and not from a feeling of obligation.  As such, Nicholas doesn't have chores and he is not required to do anything that is for maintaining of a home.  What he is required to do are things that are done for sanitary or safety purposes, because that is something else I also have to teach.  So he throws his trash in the trash can and he puts his dirty clothes in the hamper and picks up his toys (because we can trip and fall over them).

NOV07 7.0 - "Nicholas"

WOW!  He is SEVEN years old and I am in disbelief!  It just doesn't feel like it has really been that many years.  He is now more than half my size and that still amazes me every time I notice.  Granted, I'm short so that's not very tall and he is still the shortest first grader in his school.  But still, DUDE!  Pretty soon he'll be my size, and that's not an exaggeration.  I am happy I have a growing child, my wallet is begging him to slow his growing.

On his birthday we went to Disneyland and we stayed late so that he could watch the fireworks.  He is now tall enough for a lot of the larger rides and he enjoys those.  On Sunday we had cake and pizza with grandma and parents.  This coming Saturday he will have his birthday party at his aunt's and finish off his birthday month celebration with Thanksgiving.

His 6th year was packed with all sorts of experiences and new things and changes.  Not all were good.  We have learned a lot this past year and grown a lot:

Choosing Delayed Gratification!

I've been meaning to write this for two weeks now but just couldn't seem to find the time.  Or energy.  Honestly, it's been a bit warm and muggy, which is not what summer is usually like here, so I just want to veg out next to the AC.

Anyway, on to Nicholas.

We all love instant gratification, you do something and you get a reward.  But most people, I think, learn pretty young that there is also value in delayed gratification and that sometimes waiting just a little more is better and totally worth it.  I have seen that most of the other kids Nicholas' age began learning this at around 5-ish.  Not Nicholas.

I Am Not A Father

Every year I get the same thing from various people and while I do understand and appreciate the sentiment, I find it a bit insulting.  As always, it's my personal opinion and to each their own.

A mother is a female and a father is a male.  To me, that is as far as the distinction goes.  To say a mother is special because she carried the child diminishes the role of females who have adopted children or who have willingly taken on the responsibility of a child not theirs.  To say a birth mother is more special than an adoptive mother or step mother is insulting at best.  And where does that leave the father?  Is a man less of a father because he does not share any genetic material with the child?

The Grocery Store

I have been wanting to write this post for a while, put down in words what a typical outing is like with Nicholas.  It just never happens because it never seems quite right.  And then I saw this video.  So let me start with our experience.

This is what a typical trip to the grocery store looks like:

We walk in, the flower display is on the immediate right.  Yes, Nicholas, those are very pretty flowers.  No, we cannot buy any flowers.  Please let go of the flowers.  I walk away in hopes that he will follow.  Come on, Nicholas, stay with me.  He runs to the berries.  You can have one kind of berry.  You want raspberries?  But look, there aren't any raspberries.  You can have blueberries, strawberries, or black berries.  Are you sure you don't want any?  I grab blueberries anyway, he'll ask for them as soon as we're home.  Nicholas, please stop spinning.  Stay close to the cart.  No running Nicholas, please stay close.  Can you help me?  Get some cheese for me, the one in the purple bag.  The purple bag, Nicholas.  Close the door nicely.  Nicely... Nicholas, please don't slam any doors!  Come one Nicholas, lets go get milk.  Stop spinning, please stop spinning.  Watch where you're going, Nicholas.  Please look in the same direction your body is moving.  Keep your hands to yourself, you're going to knock something over.  Please stop spinning.  Nicholas, no running!  No we're not getting cake today.  Because we have some at home.  No running!  Stay next to the cart, here hold the box of sandwich bags.  Oh good, peace, we're almost done.  Nicholas, please don't open that.  Here, can you put it in the cart?  Thank you for helping!  Please stop spinning.  Look!  You hit someone!  Can you apologise for hitting them?  See, this is why I say no spinning.  Keep up Nicholas....

Is He Just Bad?

I don't like to introduce my child, either in person or in conversation, by stating he is autistic.  I feel that it is only one part of who he is and does not need to be mentioned any more than his obsession with Legos or trains need to be mentioned.  But just like Legos and trains, it does come up sometimes.  And when it does I have often been asked if I am sure he is autistic, could he just be bad.

This is where I take a deep breath and remind myself that I am a civilised human being.  In my mind the answer goes something like this:

I Blew His Mind Away

The other day my son was sitting at my desk, next to the kitchen, as I was preparing him a sandwich.  He began singing a song about the months of the year that I remember singing in Kindergarten so I joined him.  His little eyes lit up and we sang the rest of the song together.  When we were done he asked me how I knew the song and I told him that I used to sing it in Kindergarten too.

Unsolicited Advice

Part of being a parent is getting unsolicited advice.  I have come to accept that and, as a parent, I have several responses that I use for such advice:

“Oh, that sounds interesting. I’ll look into it.”

“Thanks, but that doesn’t really align with my parenting style.”

And an oldie, but works:

“Thanks...”

Back! Again...

Back in November I had written a rather lengthy post but did not publish it because it was late and I wanted to give it one more read through for grammar and what not.  Well, life happened and I never went back to it.  In retrospect, it seems senseless now and I may tell that story at a later date or in a series of posts later on.  Life has happened and so lets get caught up.

A Year Later...

*dusts off dust and cobwebs... watches spiders run*

It has been a little over a year since the last post and there are various reasons for that.  Mostly, I was convinced my last post was around potty training time and that 'catching up' would be too monuments.  Turns out last post was about destruction.  So let me start by updating that.

Potty Training: A Year Later

As the Fourth of July passed I realised it had been a year since I started the potty training journey.  Lots has happened in one year and I can say with confidence that he is fully potty trained.  He has the errant accident but our dry days largely outnumber the wet undies.  He sleeps in underwear and I've had less than a handful of night accidents.

So all is great, right?  Gotta love this diaper free life like everyone said I would... NOT!

3 Years, 12 Months!

I know, it's been 18 days and no big birthday post.  It's just not happening this year, much less than last year.  It's just too hard this year, I cannot accept it.  From his fitting into 4T pants, to him insisting he is 5, to this sudden expanded vocabulary and expressiveness.  It's just too much.  I need my baby!!!!!!!  Or get knocked up again... but that's a post for some other place.

Anywho, here is the synopsis of the celebrations:

Potty Training - Week 11

Days 71-77

9/6-9/12

I may be getting ahead of myself, but I think we have achieved day time potty training.  It took 11 weeks but he is now consistently telling me when he needs to go before he goes and we had only one accident this week (half a block away from home) so I think we've got this.  He has even told me he had to poop and pooped in the 'the big potty.'  I think a little celebration is due!

I am not naïve, I know we may face some regression and accidents will continue, but I refuse to let that burden our accomplishments.  Right now, at this moment, we have done well.  He has mastered this skill and I am proud.

Night time potty training is another obstacle.  He does wake up most days dry but still has days where he wakes up with a wet diaper.  I am not stressing this right now.  I do try to get him to pee before he goes to bed but we still have times when I find him sleeping on the couch or I simply send him to bed because he's being cranky.  All in time.  I am proud of what has been accomplished nonetheless.

I will now stop the weekly potty training updates.  The last couple of entries have been difficult since I have no time and there is very little to report.  The final hurdle was pending for a while and now we have passed it.  I will now only post a potty training post when there is something of note to post.