Update on the Kid
Since the last trip to the hospital, we have had some struggles with the Kid. It doesn't help that for about 3 weeks I chased him with a thermometer or held a mirror under his nose when he slept. He was clingy and a little moody and definitely seemed to regress a little. All totally understandable. But for the past week, he has mellowed again and we are seeing progress and most importantly; a big smile on his face. Back before we went through everything that we have gone through, I used to say "I want him to be a doctor or a lawyer." No, I used to say "I want him to be happy." but also "A happy doctor or lawyer."
Last winter/spring, when we were struggling with the old daycare and he was having meltdowns every other day, and he would kick and scream in anger and the future looked incredibly bleak, I would cry in my therapist's office every other Saturday. Deep and terrible sobs. She asked me "What do you want for him?" and I stopped and I said "I just want him to be happy." and I meant it and I still do. But my version of "happy" had changed. When we moved to the new apartment, there was a shift and the meltdowns stopped. And when we were finally out of the old daycare, there was even more of a shift. We did 20 sessions of ergotherapy and then took a break and now we have just completed 3 sessions of ABA therapy and we are starting to see some progress again; more eye contact, some words are coming back and well, complete happiness on his face.
This morning we had a meeting at the daycare and any type of a meeting at the daycare sends the Husband and I into panic mode. We've been burned in the past. We showed up at 8 and the two main providers welcomed us in and shook our hands which was a little bizzarre and my heart rate went up. We sat in those little damn chairs with our knees pressed against the small desk. The main provider pulled out a huge binder with the Kid's name on it and I sucked in my breath. And then the meeting started. And it was pretty good. We discussed his therapy and what they were doing on their end. The director came in at one point and told us how he likes to come into her office and sit across from her and babble (he goes straight to the top, attaboy!). They also pointed out a wooden box with wheels. "I had my grandfather build that for Raphael!" said the main provider. "We put him in the box." to which I responded with "You made a box for him? You put him in a box?" and she nodded and smiled and said "It makes him feel safe." and at that point, I realized she was right. We do what we can to make him feel safe. But again, a box? Eh. If he's happy.
They told us that they are very impressed with his bike riding skills and that he has the motor skills of a regular child his age so that makes me happy. And makes me wonder if we should get him into dirt biking. And ugh. I was hoping tennis because at least my outfit would be cute. Dirt biking? Not so much. And I think some camo would be required, too? Anyway, the meeting lasted an hour and I think we were all happy with the future. On Friday we have another therapy session and I can't wait to tell her about his new words. Today he said "open" and "ball" and my heart literally exploded into a million happy pieces. This is why I let him ride his bike in the apartment tonight. He deserved it.
Just this past weekend he was a real joy. On Saturday we went to the Hofburg palace and sat in Heldenplatz. At one point he took off and joined two women on their picnic blanket. He pretty much just sat there between them. The Husband went to retrieve him and then the Kid went to one woman and hugged her. She was wearing a low top. I can see that the Husband has influenced the Kid. I feel like we are getting our life back slowly but surely - I seem to say this every few months. We have a long road ahead of us but to know that the Kid is happy is truly all that matters at this point. I got my wish. Life is good.
Last winter/spring, when we were struggling with the old daycare and he was having meltdowns every other day, and he would kick and scream in anger and the future looked incredibly bleak, I would cry in my therapist's office every other Saturday. Deep and terrible sobs. She asked me "What do you want for him?" and I stopped and I said "I just want him to be happy." and I meant it and I still do. But my version of "happy" had changed. When we moved to the new apartment, there was a shift and the meltdowns stopped. And when we were finally out of the old daycare, there was even more of a shift. We did 20 sessions of ergotherapy and then took a break and now we have just completed 3 sessions of ABA therapy and we are starting to see some progress again; more eye contact, some words are coming back and well, complete happiness on his face.
This morning we had a meeting at the daycare and any type of a meeting at the daycare sends the Husband and I into panic mode. We've been burned in the past. We showed up at 8 and the two main providers welcomed us in and shook our hands which was a little bizzarre and my heart rate went up. We sat in those little damn chairs with our knees pressed against the small desk. The main provider pulled out a huge binder with the Kid's name on it and I sucked in my breath. And then the meeting started. And it was pretty good. We discussed his therapy and what they were doing on their end. The director came in at one point and told us how he likes to come into her office and sit across from her and babble (he goes straight to the top, attaboy!). They also pointed out a wooden box with wheels. "I had my grandfather build that for Raphael!" said the main provider. "We put him in the box." to which I responded with "You made a box for him? You put him in a box?" and she nodded and smiled and said "It makes him feel safe." and at that point, I realized she was right. We do what we can to make him feel safe. But again, a box? Eh. If he's happy.
They told us that they are very impressed with his bike riding skills and that he has the motor skills of a regular child his age so that makes me happy. And makes me wonder if we should get him into dirt biking. And ugh. I was hoping tennis because at least my outfit would be cute. Dirt biking? Not so much. And I think some camo would be required, too? Anyway, the meeting lasted an hour and I think we were all happy with the future. On Friday we have another therapy session and I can't wait to tell her about his new words. Today he said "open" and "ball" and my heart literally exploded into a million happy pieces. This is why I let him ride his bike in the apartment tonight. He deserved it.
Just this past weekend he was a real joy. On Saturday we went to the Hofburg palace and sat in Heldenplatz. At one point he took off and joined two women on their picnic blanket. He pretty much just sat there between them. The Husband went to retrieve him and then the Kid went to one woman and hugged her. She was wearing a low top. I can see that the Husband has influenced the Kid. I feel like we are getting our life back slowly but surely - I seem to say this every few months. We have a long road ahead of us but to know that the Kid is happy is truly all that matters at this point. I got my wish. Life is good.
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