scoop's blog

I'm getting amphibious with my bad self!

 

I'm all about exercise trends.  No, not diet trends....those never work.  Exercise trends usually DO work AND they provide a break from the same old, same old.  Back in January I shed 26 pounds in the gym with the treadmill and elliptical machine and weight training. I HATE weight training. Then I had trouble getting on the machines due to other early birds wanting to work out.  So I began swimming a few days a week.  I didn't realize how much I had missed the long strides, natural stretching, and relaxation it gave me.  But, it didn't do enough toning so I had to use it with the weights and cardio. 

Then, we went to visit family and I sprained my ankle.  BADLY.  AGAIN.  In college, I had twisted my foot over my ankle joint and it took months to heal.  So, I did it again just to keep life interesting and three weeks later, I'm still not ready for cardio. 

My hairdresser first mentioned Aqua Jogging to me and said she lost 25 pounds doing it.  I googled it and found many other success stories including many serious athletes who use it to train for marathons.  Many of them started it when they injured themselves because it is zero impact and the water actually helps the muscles heal.

So, I've aqua jogged every morning this week in our indoor community pool.  I go at 5:00 a.m. and have the place entirely to myself.  The belt around my middle keeps my head and neck above water and my feet off the pool floor.  The weights are just foam but they provide resistance forward and backward to work my arms both directions.  So far, I feel great!  My legs and arms are tingly for hours after I work out and I already feel like my energy is returning.

I've decided not to weigh myself this go around because it distracts me and water workouts can make your water weight vary.  Instead, my jeans will tell me how I'm doing!

Andrew's birthday weekend started off on Friday afternoon, when I brought cupcakes to school.  I don't have any photos to post from it though, because I had to give out the cupcakes with gloves on and well, it didn't make for easy access to the camera in my purse.  I did take this one at home Friday night when Andrew got his hands on a special cupcake I bought just for him.

 

Saturday was exciting as Andrew and I loaded ourselves into the car and traveled to Oak Island Airport for the Big Toy Day.

There was a real version of every little boy's favorite sandbox toys.  There were helicopters, airplanes, cement trucks, firetrucks, race cars, tractor trailers, farm machinery, and construction equipment.  Andrew was in heaven.

 

 

The kids were even allowed to sit in many of the vehicles.

 

 

Saturday night Andrew hung out with his Aunt Jenny and Uncle Wells who aren't family but are very close friends.  They enjoyed some rides at the beach while Mommy and Daddy attended a friend's wedding.

 

Sunday was the day of the big Par-tay.  Andrew was very excited when the decorations starting going up.  He couldn't understand why we were tying balloons to doors and fences and chairs, but it looked great!  We set up stations along the yard.  Mini-golf, t-ball, sandbox, playset, and bouncy room.  The bouncy room was a huge hit!

 

This little guy at the bottom of the photo is little Jackson.  He's a year younger than Andrew and was one of the youngest at the party.  By the end, he was in there with the other crazy kiddos!

 

(Check out Mr. sweaty pants!)

We waited until the other kids left before opening gifts.  This age is difficult for explaining that the present is Andrew's!

He had almost forgotten about them and was delighted to rip into the paper after everyone had gone home.

 

Happy Birthday Andrew!

I was talking to one of my mentors today on campus and we wandered onto the topic of where my passion for pre-k education comes from.  I realized I had never told her about Andrew's story...so I started with the bombshell autism diagnosis.  Just as her smile began to convulse into an apologic frown I informed her that he doesn't have it and launched into the last 2 months of enlightenment, improvements, and validation from Dr. Camarata.

Her eyes filled as she confessed her son, now in his 30s with children of his own, had the same story as a child.  She and her older daugter babied him and as a result, he learned to speak late because his needs were all provided.  We ended up standing amongst other colleages in a tight embrace...two women with 30 years between us, and one very common experience. 

Too many mothers know how we feel.  We're given the wrong diagnosis and then, months later find out someone goofed, or worse...no one ever tells them.  She only learned her son was ok after years of private school.  She told me that he once overheard her apologizing to her daughter for all the attention he needed, saying he was different and needed more help.  She still never spoke with him about it all, and I encouraged her to do it.  His kids are very young and if they end up in Early Intervention...at least she might be able to save him the heartache by telling him how he was a late talker and his kids could be too. 

I thought about our conversation all day and vowed to share this all with Andrew, when he's old enough to understand.  I'm planning to turn my blog into a book for him so he can see what we went through and how he was able to rise above it all and achieve as much as he has. 

This week at school was his best ever.  He listened well, used nice hands and participated beautifully.  Best of all, he had fun.  We're getting there and I couldn't be more proud of my little man.  So smart, so strong, so confident.  I'm learning from him every day.

 

Imagine you bought a sweater. It was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You wear it every day and everyone compliments you on it. Then one day, someone says they see a spot on it. You look and it isn't there. Then some others mention it. Again, you fail to see what they are talking about because you see the pattern in the sweater and it is the same as when you bought it. You are frustrated and now you don't look at the sweater the same way. In fact, you can't look at it without spotting potential flaws.

Now imagine the spot was never there.

Maybe this is a poor analogy but it is the only way I can think of explaining my emotions right now. Andrew doesn't have autism. That's what one of the top 10 experts in developmental disabilities in the nation told me on the phone. Now, she didn't assess him. She just took my information and his test scores and then asked questions that pegged him 100%. She knew his strengths and weaknesses and about his musicality and his fascinations without ever meeting him.  She knows this because she's met hundreds of children just like him.  Late Talkers.

Mary Camarata at Vanderbilt University is part of what is called the Late Talker's Group. They believe many autism cases are just kids developing at a different pace.  These kids often rebound and catch up to their peers overnight when they are ready.

Then she tells me we don't need to go to visit them in Nashville because, although she is pretty sure he was a Late Talker, his scores show he is coming out of it and will be getting himself up to speed.  She highly doubts autism of any kind and thinks our speech therapy and home therapies are clearly working. Our biggest issues are helping him overcome his frustration with speech and become better at using it with peers.  Her phone consult saved us $700 on the evaluation plus travel and lodging...she isn't in this for the money.  She and her husband care about these kids.

I hung up the phone and felt like 500 lbs had been lifted off of my back and for the first time in 18 months I could look at my son as a normal child. The diagnoses really changes the way you see your own kid and I think that is the most dangerous part of it all.

How can they function as a healthy child when we see them (and tell them) there is something wrong with them?  If only these early intervention people could see what they do to families....maybe they would label less and just help these kids get where they are going.

So, while I never stopped loving my sweater (more than life itself)...I can take more time to just enjoy it now...because there isn't any spot...it's perfect just as I always knew it was.

 

I bought my nephew a kid's camera for Christmas but it turned out he already had it.  For a few days I contemplated keeping it, but after too much holiday spending I came to my senses and returned it.  Big mistake.

Andrew has become obsessed with our camera and usually runs around with my old Canon Rebel, which is kind of heavy for him.  Last night, I let him play with our new one and he figured out how to turn it on and take some shots.  

Once we turned it around he did pretty well too.

I guess the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree afterall!

 

A co-worker makes these desks and I am posting this on a thread to try to drum up business for him.

 

I don't buy magazines.  I just don't.  There isn't enough time, energy, and (these days) money in my life to read them.  But I bought this one.  I cried so hard and I fell even more in love with this woman and all she has done and is continuing to do to win the war on autism. 

When critics blasted her for making her son a poster child for autism, she responded without missing a beat.  "No, he's the poster child for hope," she said.  Amen sister.  You give me hope.

Go Green Vaccines!

So Andrew has been at his new school for just one week.  One week of dramatic play, sensory and fine motor skill development and group speech therapy.  One week of interaction and planned curriculum.

Andrew finally napped today and was still full of energy after dinner.  He was interacting with me without wanting Einsteins and then during his bath he touched a wet hand to mine and then smiled. "Ut oh, Mommy is wet,"  he said.  I could feel the tears forming.  My mind started reeling...cause and effect, full sentence with practical social implication.  This is huge!  Yes baby, mommy is wet and Andrew is very smart.

After his bath we settled in for bed and read a few stories.  When I read him Polar Bear, Polar Bear, What Do You Hear?  he took over by looking at the pictures and asking what they hear.  I was in awe.  Next I grabbed the first in that series, Brown Bear is the same way and he did the same thing.  He focused, he was interested and he was excited by his own progress.

Now that is an amazing change in just one week.  Imagine what will happen when we begin our therapies after vacation!

 

 

I'm writing this entry with much hesitation. 

Please don't respond to me right now. 

I'm not really able to handle it. 

This is more for my therapy than for your information.

 

 As we headed out to Andrew's developmental analysis at 7:20 this morning I was absolutely sure it was a waste of time.  Even my Early Childhood Education instructor agreed that he is just fine...a little slow in a couple areas but overall a typical, healthy boy.

Two hours later I'm covered in Kleenex as the counselors explained what PDD NOS means.

I'll leave it Wikipedia...

Pervasive Developmental Disorder - Not Otherwise Specified (PDD-NOS) is one of the pervasive developmental disorders and autism spectrum disorders. PDD-NOS is a diagnosis for people who are well-described by the "PDD" label, but can't be categorized by any other disorder. It is usually milder than autism and has similar symptoms to autism, with some symptoms present, and others absent.  

**************************

Yeah...I just about lost consciousness at the word Autism too. I reported on it, but I never expected to live it.   I was basically begging to go back to speech delay.  I don't mind that one anymore...

The crazy thing is the session seemed to go so well.  Andrew did everything they asked him to.  He knew all of his colors and most of his shapes.  He was so smart.  He's too smart.  He scores at 3 years old in a bunch of categories and 20 months in social interaction.  He would be diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome but he has too much physical coordination. So, instead he's Not Otherwise Specified.   In other words, there's a problem but he doesn't fit into their categories. 

I don't know what the hell I was thinking as I turned the car toward work and attempted to get through the day.  I didn't do much except cry.  I ended up in the office of a co-worker who has a son with autism.  All she had to say was, "I'm so sorry," with tears in her eyes and I lost all control.  I'm talking body shaking sobs for about 30 minutes. 

And Brian?  Well, he walked out of the session.  He later called me and told me these people were crazy, they were wrong and the guy counselor was most certainly homosexual.  Since we've been home he's read all of the information they gave us, then he disappeared.  Now he's holding Andrew in his big-boy bed.  They're both sleeping.  I'm trying to give him some space.  I cry, he doesn't.

I don't know how we're going to get through the therapy plan.  It means lost work hours, and sleepless nights, more testing and lots of specialists.  We'll probably have to move to another county where the care is better and the whole thing just makes me want to vomit.  It's a nightmare and I just want to wake up.  I just want my baby to be ok and I want it more than I've ever wanted anything before. 

When I picked Andrew up from school today his teacher told me that he'd been singing all day!  Ms. Deborah adores him anyway but said this was just beyond words.  I had heard Andrew sing all of the time but I would get a better idea of what she was talking about at bathtime.  Instead of singing along he just starts singing on his own.  His song choice, Wheels on the Bus...of course when I went to post the video VOX reported an error so we taped it again in the livingroom!