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Feb 13, 2013

Nightmares Feeding On Mom Anxiety

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Do you ever have those dreams that are so real that you wake up startled, disoriented, and trying to determine if it actually happened or if now, awake in your bed, is the true reality?

Now what about nightmares?

My sleep was disturbingly interrupted by one of those nightmares this morning. This one was worse than many because it didn’t involve any danger to me, but instead to one of my children. And unlike other bad dreams where I can wake and realize any danger was highly unlikely and improbable, this one involved a very real scenario that left me shaken and unable to go back to sleep.

In my nightmare, Mira died. It was a very life-like situation: she wasn’t with us (I can’t remember if she was at school or with family) and she choked on a bit of hot dog. The horrific scene played out where we received the news, and then planned her funeral. I remember sobbing that I’d never hug her again or see that impish smile. I tortured myself with “what if?” – what if she had been with me that day, what if she had only picked a different food or someone had cut up the hot dog better for her, or what if I had never encouraged her to like hot dogs? I remember walking into her room and seeing her favorite stuffed animals on the bed, and I was overcome with grief.

And then I woke up.

Terrifying, right? It took me several minutes to calm my breathing, wipe the tears out of my eyes and realize I could hear Mira arguing with her sister downstairs, perfectly healthy, perfectly alive. My mind was still on fire with the false memories from the dream, trying to push them aside and write them off as fears conjured into a hellish scenario for my brain to process.

The half hour remaining before my alarm went off was useless. I tried to go back to sleep, in the hope that more sleep would erase the lingering images from my mind, but the danger had been laid out for me and I couldn’t stop thinking about what I needed to do to prevent this from becoming a reality. After all, I had just bought hot dogs for Mira at the grocery last week after she asked for them – was this some warning, or just my mind arranging a random collection of thoughts and memories then taken to the extreme end?

I do occasionally worry about Mira choking. The kid is a talker – an excessive talker – and that includes while she’s eating. I’m often reminding her to chew and swallow, then talk. How easy would it be for her to accidentally inhale a piece of food?

And the concept of choking is one I’m personally familiar with. When I was five or six, my babysitter had given me some of the candy orange slices as a treat. (You know, the thick, sugared gummy-jelly wedges?) I was so happy to get them that I inhaled them. Literally.

I ate the first two without any trouble as I looked out the back door, trying to finish them so I could go out to play, but when I popped the third one into my mouth, it accidentally slid too far back and got stuck. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t yell for help. I remember the confusion and then the panic as I tried to cough or swallow to dislodge the candy. My babysitter was two rooms away and I didn’t think I could make it to her.

I walked from the kitchen to the living room, starting to hit myself in the chest, begging my lungs to work as I became light-headed. I remember stumbling over the rug (her rug had tripped me on many better days as well) and landing with my chest on the arm of the couch. And that did it – the candy popped up enough for me to cough it out. My throat burned as I gasped for air.

My experience could have ended far worse, and to this day I still won’t go near orange slices candy. I know Mira has trouble focusing on any single task, so I guess it’s only natural that I’d have a nightmare about her choking.

The hard part now is getting the nightmare out of my mind. As parents, we only have so much control over our children and we can’t guarantee their safety 100% of the time. Letting a child out of your site, even for a moment, is trusting that you’ve surrounded your child with the safest possible world and the best teaching, and that they’ll remember what you’ve taught them.

But there is no absolute safety. There are always risk, accidents you have no control over, and dwelling on all of the what if’s will only zap all of the joy out of being a parent.

When I came downstairs this morning, I sat on the couch next to Mira and she immediately threw her arms around me and said “I love you, mommy.” I pulled her close to me as she nuzzled her face into my neck, and hugged her tight.

That was my restart for the day. Instead of thinking about possible danger, I’m choosing to focus on the great moments I have with my kids. Because if something bad should ever happen to any of us, I want to know that our days were filled with love and happiness.

If anything, the nightmare was a good reminder to notice the little moments of joy in each day.

This kid cracks me up.
Filed Under: being a mom, family time, love, memories, Mira ·


Jan 22, 2013

Faking It

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Last summer we signed Mira up for gymnastics after she expressed an interest in finding an activity for herself. Mira had tried ballet before that, but we decided she just wasn’t right for ballet. No matter how hard the instructor tried to calm the kid down, it all moved too slowly for her. We hoped gymnastics, with the ability to jump, tumble, and flip, might be more her style.

One week into it, Cordy decided she wanted to be a part of it, too. We never thought Cordy would like gymnastics, but she really wanted to join in. We signed her up as well in the hopes that she might gain some confidence and improve her coordination.

Since then, Mira continues to love gymnastics and while not even close to the most coordinated kid in her class, she’s making progress. Mira insists she’ll be in the Olympics someday. Considering she’s an entire head taller than every other kid in the class of five year olds and trips over air, I doubt it, but I’m thrilled she has goals and works hard at improving.

Cordy, though, is not making any progress and instead is showing signs of being uninterested. She insists she likes going, but once there she’s usually too distracted by what the other classes are doing and then doesn’t want to try anything new or push herself outside of her comfort zone. Her teacher has been incredibly kind and patient with her, but I can tell even she is getting discouraged with Cordy’s unwillingness to put any confidence in herself.

She enjoys gymnastics and comes out with a smile on her face, but she’s made practically no progress with her skills and is becoming more and more distracted during class. We haven’t told Cordy yet, but this is her last session of gymnastics and we’ll encourage her to try another activity she might like more.

Last week, both girls appeared happy to go to gymnastics. After dinner, they put on their leotards and were all ready to go. Once there, they went to the benches to wait for their class to start, but then Cordy looked around for a minute and then went to the bathroom. Several minutes later, she came out frowning and sat back on the bench, clutching her stomach and looking miserable as she looked at me.

I waved Cordy to come talk to me, and she said she felt sick. I put my hand on her forehead (classic mom first move for a sick kid, right?) and she wasn’t warm. “My stomach really hurts, mom. I feel like I’m going to be sick,” she continued.

“Can you get through gymnastics?” I asked.

She sighed and clutched her stomach again. “I don’t know. I don’t think I can tonight because I don’t feel good.”

Her class was gathering to begin, so I had to make a quick judgement call. She was completely fine before we got there, but this is also my child who is honest to a fault at times. Her fear of missing out on something she’s supposed to do and disappointing a teacher generally pushes her to keep going even when she shouldn’t. Maybe she really was sick?

I texted Aaron, who was on his way from work, and let him know that Cordy was sick and needed to go home as soon as he got there. Cordy then came to sit in the parents’ waiting area with me. She walked there hunched over, looking miserable, but as soon as we reached the bleachers, she perked up as she climbed to the top row.

“Wow, mommy, these are fun! Look how high I can sit!”

I frowned. “I thought you didn’t feel good? Maybe you could join your class if you’re feeling better.”

Her eyes widened, and then her bright mood disappeared again. “Oh! Oh, I really don’t feel good. I just thought these seats were interesting.” She resumed crossing her arms over her stomach again.

Mira and her class were soon in front of us starting their first activities. And within minutes, Cordy was once again distracted. “Look, mommy, there’s Mira! Let’s wave to Mira!”

Again I asked, “Cordy, I thought you were sick?”

“Um, I can still cheer for my sister even when I’m sick, right?”

“Not with that much energy,” I responded.

She continued to go back and forth between looking ill and being distracted by something until Aaron got there. I realized by then that she had faked the whole thing. She wasn’t sick at all, she just didn’t want to do gymnastics that night. It’s the first time Cordy has ever lied about being sick to get out of doing something, and I totally fell for it. What’s worse – she had a good idea that I’d fall for it or she wouldn’t have done it.

In some ways, I’m proud of her for faking it. It’s often believed that kids on the autism spectrum have a hard time with lying, or can’t do it at all. She’s made up creative stories about why something didn’t get done before, or used the convenient “I forgot” excuse a few times (which in her case is often true), but she’s never out-and-out lied about being sick to avoid a task, complete with acting the part. True, she wasn’t very good at continuing the act, but she managed to keep it up long enough to fool me. So really, this is Cordy portraying very typical kid behavior, which is progress for her.

But on the other hand, I don’t want to celebrate a child who lies, either. When Aaron arrived, I specifically mentioned to him that I was certain she was faking it, and so he took her home to finish her homework and go to bed, since sick children don’t get to do anything fun like watch TV. She wasn’t so happy about that part, and I hope that will keep her from trying it again. He told me she seemed totally fine at home, too, further confirming my suspicions that she was never sick to begin with.

Even if she’s losing interest in gymnastics, I’m not letting her quit until this session is over. Both kids were asked if they wanted to sign up for the winter session and both said they wanted to, so I expect her to finish out what she agreed to. After that, Cordy is free to choose another activity to try.

I only hope she won’t try repeating her “sick day” again this week. I don’t like having to play both mom and talent scout to determine if she really is sick or is trying another performance piece in the hopes of winning the award of getting-out-of-work.

Filed Under: Autism, being a mom, Cordy, growing up, kid logic ·


Dec 14, 2012

What’s In A Name?

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Yesterday as I was driving the kids home from school, somehow the topic in the car shifted to names.

Mira: “Mommy, my teacher’s last name is the same as her husband’s last name.”

Me: “OK.”

Mira (suddenly sounding upset): “A friend in my class said that a family is everyone with the same name.”

Me: “Well, that’s not quite true…”

Mira (now more upset): “She said that if you don’t have the same last name as us, you must not be our real mom, and you must be a stepmom.”

Me: “WHAT?”

Mira: “That’s what she said. And it made me mad! But you’re our real mommy, right?”

Years ago when Aaron and I got married, there was a small discussion about changing names. I was in grad school at the time, expecting to make a name for myself in academia (hahaha), and I wasn’t all that keen about changing my name. Aaron was completely indifferent to the idea. He was OK if I took his last name, and he was OK with me keeping my name.

I wasn’t really trying to make a feminist statement with my last name. After all, it’s a paternal surname. But it’s the name I’ve had since birth, the name I graduated from high school and college with, and the name I had for the start of my career. I’ve had to spell it countless times, sound it out slowly when people mangled the pronunciation, and agree with hundreds of people that yes, it is an unusual last name. I’m acclimated to handling anything involving this difficult name now.

Aaron’s last name, while not as hard to spell as mine, is equally as unusual and often mispronounced. I didn’t feel like trading away one difficult name for another. I didn’t want to go through the hassle of giving up my public identity and changing every legal document to become a different identity that was still the same person underneath.

Besides, both of us felt strongly that a name wasn’t what tied a family together. A name is deep on a personal level but superficial when it comes to connecting with others. Your family are the people you love, including some who may share the same surname, but certainly not limited to that group. And names can easily be changed, while the person who carries that name remains the same.

We’ve had a few moments since having children where eyebrows were raised that I had a different last name. Most times a quick “we’re married, I didn’t change my name,” is enough to clear up any confusion. If needed, we have miniature, laminated copies of our marriage license. It’s not a big deal to most people.

I still answer socially to Mrs. hislastname and I don’t mind if I’m called that by others or receive letters addressed to that name. I’ve even said that if the name thing ever became an issue, I’d change my name if the situation required it. But for now my legal name is the same name I was born with, and there are no serious objections (from those who matter) to make any changes to that.

I never expected that a kindergartener would suddenly bring the issue to the forefront of our kids’ minds, especially in a school where there are so many families made up of different names, some married, some remarried, some not at all. Of all of the situations I imagined in my head, I never thought it would be the youngest generation making sweeping statements about what defines a family.

Mira was shaken by the declaration from her friend. She knows I have a different last name – which also happens to be her second middle name – and she’s never questioned it until now. I reassured her that we were just as much a family as any other family, and that having a different last name didn’t make me any less her mommy. My name may be different, but she still grew inside my belly.

She’s going back to school today certain that we are a family, and ready to tell her friend that whether you change your name or not doesn’t define how strong of a family you are. A woman changing her name or not is a personal decision that in no way reflects on the love she has for her family or her dedication to that family. Love bonds families together, not names.

Filed Under: being a mom, big issues, love, other people's kids, school ·


Dec 5, 2012

Mothers United in Nausea

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I think the entire world is now aware that there will soon be a new heir to the British throne. The royals announced earlier this week that Kate (Duchess of Cambridge, wife to Prince William) was in the hospital being treated for hyperemesis gravidarum, aka severe morning sickness.

I’m sure that’s not how they had hoped to announce the pregnancy to the world.

I feel for Kate. While I never had the severe nausea that leads to dehydration and medical care, with both of my pregnancies I experienced nausea for the first 14 weeks that I described as “24/7 sickness.” Morning sickness didn’t seem to fully describe it.

The nausea wasn’t limited to the morning. Instead, I had a constant fatigue and ill feeling that lasted every minute of the day. Food was revolting to look at, but I knew I needed to eat. When I ate small amounts of food, I felt worse, but then felt a little better afterward. But if I ate too much, I felt worse. I never vomited, even though I wished for it every day in the hopes that I might feel a little better.

I lost over 15 pounds during the first trimester of my first pregnancy from eating such a small amount. Thankfully the nausea passed around week 15 and I went on to gain back all of it plus five pounds. With Mira I lost slightly more weight and never gained beyond my starting weight. I’d call pregnancy the best diet I ever tried, but at the same time I wouldn’t wish that nausea on anyone.

When I was pregnant with Mira, my nausea forced me to tell others sooner than I had planned. I had only been at my current job for a year and didn’t want to tell them I was pregnant until the second trimester. But the morning sickness hit even faster this time. (I was so miserable I even wrote a blog post reminding me not to do this again.)

Mira at 6wks. How can something so tiny make you feel so lousy?

One day at work, after fighting through two weeks of nausea, I realized I couldn’t use the excuse of getting over a stomach bug forever. Our employer had brought in doughnuts for us that night, presented at the front desk right as I was standing there. The scent hit my nose and I immediately turned green and walked back to my office as fast as I could while my coworkers just stared at me.

I composed myself, realizing I was going to have to tell someone soon. As I walked back into the hallway, I saw the office manager standing there with her eyes closed breathing in and out slowly. “Are you OK?” I asked.

She opened her eyes in shock, unaware that I was there. At that point, she confessed that the smell of the doughnuts made her sick because she was pregnant. She didn’t want to tell anyone yet, but couldn’t take it anymore. I laughed at that point and shared that I was pregnant, too. With that secret out of the bag, we shared our hard candies and ginger ale and were miserable together.

I guess the one positive of morning sickness is that mothers can bond and sympathize together over the shared experience of toughing it out, whether you just felt a little queasy now and then or needed IV fluids and Zofran. Many are lucky to not experience the severe effects of hyperemesis gravidarum, but we understand the nausea, even if it’s not as serious for us. It’s a wretched and agonizing feeling, but we get through it and think about the reward at the end.

I hope this new royal baby gives Kate a little relief soon so she can enjoy the remainder of her pregnancy. Because beyond the nausea (and later back pain), there are some fun moments to enjoy before the baby arrives.

Filed Under: being a mom, memories, pop culture, pregnancy ·


Oct 4, 2012

Fighting Inner Demons and Zombies

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We’re several weeks into the new school year now, and for the most part it’s gone well. We had bus issues at the beginning, but since they readjusted the pick-up time in the morning, we haven’t had any problems with the kids arriving late to school. We’re still choosing to pick them up from school each day because no solution could be found to shorten the afternoon bus ride to under an hour and a half.

I had originally worried Mira might be challenging for her kindergarten teacher. She’s not only smart, but she’s clever and knows how to manipulate a situation to her favor. But so far everything has been great. She’s already gathered her own gang of friends, she’s progressing quickly with learning to read, and she claims she’s never had to move her name once on the behavior board. (If they get in trouble, they have to move their name to a different spot – the lower you go, the more privileges you lose.)

Cordy’s year has been a little more of a struggle. When the bus was running late and they were helping her deal with the anxiety related to that, she quickly picked up on the concept that if she had anxiety in class, she was taken to the special needs room where she got to swing and relax. So, like most kids would do with this knowledge, she’d fake anxiety to get out of boring class time and go relax.

I realized what she was doing very quickly and collaborated with her teachers to remove this as a reward. Now if she has to go to the special needs class, she loses computer time. With that change, her behavior immediately improved and she remained in class all day for the past few weeks. Other than her complaints that they’re only learning “kindergarten-level” math (can you tell she’s bored?), she’s enjoying school.

This week has been harder, though. I don’t know if it’s the weather change or the full moon earlier in the week, but she took a full step backwards in behavior. Unfocused, hyper, irritable – it’s been a challenging few days for her.

Then yesterday I received a call from the special needs teacher. A group of kids were playing “zombies” at school, and the play got a little rough. Cordy, trying to protect other kids from the zombies, grabbed a boy around the neck and left small scratches on his neck. There’s no way she meant to hurt him – the teacher said all of the kids were playing rough and that’s when they were told to stop.

But because Cordy had hurt another kid, school policy required her to lose her second recess and spend it in their behavior correction class. It’s a classroom with a behavior specialist in the room at all times, who helps kids work through better choices for their actions. Some kids spend most of their day in that room, others (like Cordy) only are there for a recess and hopefully never return.

For a perfectionist like Cordy, the world came to an end. That is where the Bad Kids go, which means she must be a bad kid. Unable to separate out the difference between a bad action and a bad person, she immediately became upset. Her teacher said she was crying in class and couldn’t focus on her schoolwork, so she was taken to the special needs room to calm down.

She told her special needs teacher that she should be “thrown away” or that we should “kill” her because she’s such a bad person. They were shocked at her reaction and didn’t know what to do. My heart ached to hear it, but I wasn’t shocked. Cordy often overreacts like this when she makes a mistake, and we have to walk a very thin line in discussing the problem with her while also protecting her ultra-fragile self-esteem.

No matter how often we tell her that everyone makes mistakes, and we learn from our mistakes so we don’t make them again, she still believes that a mistake means she’s a failure as a human being. Her inner voice – or inner demons, really – convince her that each mistake is THE biggest mistake she could possibly make, and she will never be able to right the wrongs or redeem herself.

Cordy did eventually calm down after her teacher repeated much of the script we use when she overreacts, and she served her sentence of missing second recess. But she was still upset when she came home.

I was fighting back tears the rest of the day. Cordy is our gentle soul who doesn’t understand why anyone would hurt someone on purpose. She internalizes every mistake as a personal failure, with even the smallest error on her part worthy of the most extreme punishment in her mind. It hurts to see her struggle and tear herself down so much. She is a smart, happy, and kind child who likes to please others, but no matter how much I try to show her that and praise her, she only sees her flaws.

Also, at the moment she’s still mostly unaware of what her classmates think of her, but I’m sure that she’ll find out eventually. How long will it be until someone calls her “weird” or a “freak” and it sinks in? How will we handle that? I love this kid with all of my heart, but I know I can’t protect her from the rest of the world forever.

No one prepares you for this part of parenting. What To Expect When Your Kid Navigates The Social World of Elementary School and The Happiest Elementary School Kid On The Block aren’t handed out at baby showers when we’re anxiously preparing to become parents. Add in special needs and autism, and it’s three times as difficult. My heart aches.

(And yes, I’m already starting to worry what’s ahead when puberty sets in and kids get really mean.)

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Filed Under: Autism, being a mom, big issues, Cordy, kid logic, school ·