Hey 2014, You are Starting to be Awesome
Well, if we are friends on Facebook and you haven't blocked me due to my inane posts about God knows what, you will have heard that we got some kind of awesome news from the downstairs daycare yesterday. If you don't know the background, here is the abridged version:
Spring 2013 - Daycare starts to hassle us that the Kid is a pain in the tuckus. Most likely being caused by my selfish decision to work full time. I decide to seek out a therapist. Therapist says he seems like a stubborn, rambunctious, difficult but adorable little boy.
Early Fall 2013 - The Kid continues to have tantrums and apparently this is not natural for a toddler so I seek out the therapist once again. After dropping off the Kid one morning, I receive a letter containing 3 paragraphs citing behaviour my child exhibits that points to an Aspergers diagnosis. WHAT?! I never knew my son was being analyzed so that ticked me off and of course, the best part was later finding out that the writer of the letter was a student - studying child psychology. May you never get your degree. Child therapist hooks me up with an autism specialist and a speech therapist.
Later Fall 2013 - After dropping off the Kid at daycare, I am informed that he will most likely be kicked out in a few months if his behaviour doesn't improve. Does he hit other kids? No. Is he aggressive towards the staff? No. Again, tantrums. At this point the Kid is being difficult at home as well and I am starting my downward spiral.
American Thanksgiving 2013 - Not a holiday over here so I meet with the speech therapist the next day at work so that I can find out her analysis after meeting with the Kid the night before. I couldn't attend because I was working a later shift. She tells me he is most likely severely autistic. My world crashes.
December 2013 - In desperation I look for new daycares and find one that has a spot starting in January. Happy happy joy joy! And we find a spot at a diagnosis centre so that we can have the Kid formally diagnosed. Merry Christmas to me.
January 2014 - February 2014 - We start the sessions to have him diagnosed (a total of 5) and start the new daycare. New daycare seems incredible the first week. However, their policy is that the Kid must enter the playroom of his own volition. They did not allow me to make a trail of cupcakes into the room. For four weeks the Husband and I spend alternate mornings willing the Kid to enter. He doesn't. And when we try to leave he, big surprise, freaks out. At the end of the four weeks it is becoming clear that he might never enter. Then I am told I should try and re-birth him because I had a c-section and he never got the opportunity to be born the right way. I even screwed up birthing my child, apparently. We don't go back to the new daycare and have to go back to the old one in defeat.
(Just after this event, we found our dream apartment because the universe effing owed me)
March 2014 - Diagnosis is completed and the Kid exhibits signs of autism and signs of the opposite of autism. A recommendation is made for the Kid to attend an integration daycare. We have another meeting with the daycare and they say that the Kid must leave by the end of May. I die. A couple of weeks later we bring our diagnosis to the Kindergarten representative of our new district and he informs he will find us a place in September. I dry heave. Then the psychologist from the diagnosis centre, like an angel with Birkenstocks, negotiates with the daycare to allow us to stay until September but on half days starting in May. They agree. I cry a little.
April 2014 - We move into our amazing new place and find out the beautiful daycare below is an integration kindergarten. The Kid starts ergotherapy once a week.
May 2014 - Half days at the daycare start and after 5 weeks of living in our new place, we are amazed at how different the Kid has been acting. More outgoing, more eye contact and just more joie de vivre.
Which brings us to yesterday.
May 27 2014 - A couple of weeks ago, the Husband and I were talking and I mentioned that maybe, to be proactive and not wait for the kindergarten representative, we should introduce ourselves to the daycare downstairs. The Husband is able to get an appointment for 8 a.m. on a Tuesday morning for me. I, being an emotional idiot, tells him he should go instead because I will just end up crying. At 8:30 I text the Husband to see how it went. No response for ten minutes. He then writes back: I think it went well. Have a meeting soon at work. Will write you an e-mail after it. To which I wrote back: You write me that e-mail now or I will scalp you. So he wrote me an e-mail and it pretty much said that it looks like we have a place and the daycare had already received the Kid's diagnosis from the centre and then I just cried. At work. In front of my co-workers. Who gave me tissues. But shared in the excitement. And so, I want to jump for joy but I am going to restrain myself until we have signed the form. If I have to tattoo the name of the daycare to my forehead, I will.
After a year of complete and utter heartbreak, I think we've made it. The hurdles and challenges are still ahead of us but we are on our way. If we can get the Kid settled into this amazing place, continue his therapy and work our asses off to get him to where he needs to be, we will be living the dream. Thank you everybody for your incredible support, your empathy and for joining me on this journey. It has been a nightmare but it is coming to an end. It hasn't been all bad. I've learned a lot about myself, my son, my friends and my marriage. I've been through every possible emotion and I have had sleepless nights and breakdowns but through it all, I've learned... a lot. So onwards and upwards! Huzzah!
P.S. Stay tuned for a fun post with pictures of my centerpieces from the housewarming party. I don't want this blog to be all serious all the time.
Spring 2013 - Daycare starts to hassle us that the Kid is a pain in the tuckus. Most likely being caused by my selfish decision to work full time. I decide to seek out a therapist. Therapist says he seems like a stubborn, rambunctious, difficult but adorable little boy.
Early Fall 2013 - The Kid continues to have tantrums and apparently this is not natural for a toddler so I seek out the therapist once again. After dropping off the Kid one morning, I receive a letter containing 3 paragraphs citing behaviour my child exhibits that points to an Aspergers diagnosis. WHAT?! I never knew my son was being analyzed so that ticked me off and of course, the best part was later finding out that the writer of the letter was a student - studying child psychology. May you never get your degree. Child therapist hooks me up with an autism specialist and a speech therapist.
Later Fall 2013 - After dropping off the Kid at daycare, I am informed that he will most likely be kicked out in a few months if his behaviour doesn't improve. Does he hit other kids? No. Is he aggressive towards the staff? No. Again, tantrums. At this point the Kid is being difficult at home as well and I am starting my downward spiral.
American Thanksgiving 2013 - Not a holiday over here so I meet with the speech therapist the next day at work so that I can find out her analysis after meeting with the Kid the night before. I couldn't attend because I was working a later shift. She tells me he is most likely severely autistic. My world crashes.
December 2013 - In desperation I look for new daycares and find one that has a spot starting in January. Happy happy joy joy! And we find a spot at a diagnosis centre so that we can have the Kid formally diagnosed. Merry Christmas to me.
January 2014 - February 2014 - We start the sessions to have him diagnosed (a total of 5) and start the new daycare. New daycare seems incredible the first week. However, their policy is that the Kid must enter the playroom of his own volition. They did not allow me to make a trail of cupcakes into the room. For four weeks the Husband and I spend alternate mornings willing the Kid to enter. He doesn't. And when we try to leave he, big surprise, freaks out. At the end of the four weeks it is becoming clear that he might never enter. Then I am told I should try and re-birth him because I had a c-section and he never got the opportunity to be born the right way. I even screwed up birthing my child, apparently. We don't go back to the new daycare and have to go back to the old one in defeat.
(Just after this event, we found our dream apartment because the universe effing owed me)
March 2014 - Diagnosis is completed and the Kid exhibits signs of autism and signs of the opposite of autism. A recommendation is made for the Kid to attend an integration daycare. We have another meeting with the daycare and they say that the Kid must leave by the end of May. I die. A couple of weeks later we bring our diagnosis to the Kindergarten representative of our new district and he informs he will find us a place in September. I dry heave. Then the psychologist from the diagnosis centre, like an angel with Birkenstocks, negotiates with the daycare to allow us to stay until September but on half days starting in May. They agree. I cry a little.
April 2014 - We move into our amazing new place and find out the beautiful daycare below is an integration kindergarten. The Kid starts ergotherapy once a week.
May 2014 - Half days at the daycare start and after 5 weeks of living in our new place, we are amazed at how different the Kid has been acting. More outgoing, more eye contact and just more joie de vivre.
Which brings us to yesterday.
May 27 2014 - A couple of weeks ago, the Husband and I were talking and I mentioned that maybe, to be proactive and not wait for the kindergarten representative, we should introduce ourselves to the daycare downstairs. The Husband is able to get an appointment for 8 a.m. on a Tuesday morning for me. I, being an emotional idiot, tells him he should go instead because I will just end up crying. At 8:30 I text the Husband to see how it went. No response for ten minutes. He then writes back: I think it went well. Have a meeting soon at work. Will write you an e-mail after it. To which I wrote back: You write me that e-mail now or I will scalp you. So he wrote me an e-mail and it pretty much said that it looks like we have a place and the daycare had already received the Kid's diagnosis from the centre and then I just cried. At work. In front of my co-workers. Who gave me tissues. But shared in the excitement. And so, I want to jump for joy but I am going to restrain myself until we have signed the form. If I have to tattoo the name of the daycare to my forehead, I will.
After a year of complete and utter heartbreak, I think we've made it. The hurdles and challenges are still ahead of us but we are on our way. If we can get the Kid settled into this amazing place, continue his therapy and work our asses off to get him to where he needs to be, we will be living the dream. Thank you everybody for your incredible support, your empathy and for joining me on this journey. It has been a nightmare but it is coming to an end. It hasn't been all bad. I've learned a lot about myself, my son, my friends and my marriage. I've been through every possible emotion and I have had sleepless nights and breakdowns but through it all, I've learned... a lot. So onwards and upwards! Huzzah!
P.S. Stay tuned for a fun post with pictures of my centerpieces from the housewarming party. I don't want this blog to be all serious all the time.
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