We have a lot to be thankful for, especially the fact that we survived Thanksgiving. Steve and the boys were sick with a cold earlier in the week but seemed to be recovering. I came down with the cold on Wednesday morning and felt really crappy Thursday morning. I just had a bad feeling about Thanksgiving lunch with my family and called my mom to let her know that we weren't coming. My mommy gut instinct was dead on, because Jake started vomiting around noon. Manny fell sick later that evening. We had a scare with Manny passing a white stool (sign of liver distress) and I ended up calling T.C. Thompsons triage nurse to get some reassurance that I needn't rush him right in.
Friday was just more of the same.. puking, pooping, whining, and Mommy and Daddy feeling OK, so we ate the food that we had cooked and some that was brought to us by my Dad from the big Thanksgiving dinner. Friday afternoon the weather was nice, so Manny was allowed the treat of playing on the back porch while Mom and Dad watched and Jake slept. Manny's back was to us, so we didn't know what he was so interested in, a leaf or a stick? But no, it was a red wasp, warmed up from the sun, and the stupid thing stung him right on his index finger. After a dose of benadryl and a couple of hours of me hovering absolutely terrified that he'd have a reaction (my father and I are allergic to different degrees) he recovered and slept off the benadryl.
Today we packed up a still-somewhat-lethargic Manny, and an absolutely stir-crazy Jake and headed to St. Elmo for a quick run through at a small craft fair, then we headed to Greenlife Grocery to buy some yummies for dinner. Jake and Manny munched on a piece of pizza on the way home. I was just glad that they were finally eating.
Jake's days lately have been quite interesting. When he was sick he was quiet and cuddly, and when he had bouts of feeling well he has pinched and scratched me to the point of distraction. For some reason he needs "sensory input" (Cindy's words) and to get that he has to constantly touch, pinch, scratch and otherwise dig his fingers into my flesh. Cindy taught me to get his arms and shake or give firm "input" before he can dig at me to help control this, but it has backfired. Now he comes at me at different angles, digging into my calves, my buttocks, the tops of my feet if he is sitting on the floor. I have counted him doing this 20 or 30 times in a 10 minute period. If I sit or lay on the floor he throws his entire body at me. Cindy says that he does it to "regulate himself." I just really don't know what that means. But I do know that he seems to need to torture me in order to feel OK inside of his body. We also swing him, bounce him on a ball, throw him on the couch, built a ball-pit for him to roll around in and have otherwise tried to create "sensory input" therapy for him at home, with very limited success.
This weekend I made him a big batch of playdough to give him something else to pinch. It may have helped some, I really can't tell. I sit here and type, and he has been asleep for a few hours, and I can still feel the places where his nails have bitten into the tops of my hands. He also grabs my fingers and bends them back, something not so pleasant to someone with a bit of carpal tunnel from sewing/grooming/typing. I was very displeased this week when I remembered that Jake had no OT with Cindy. I want to beg her to help me with a way to MAKE HIM STOP this behaviour, yet, I have a feeling that I will be disappointed when she starts vaguely referring to a "sensory diet" and (being the truly sweet and understanding person that she is) offering her sympathy at my situation. I just want him to quit pinching me, and I sometimes just can't constrain myself and end up slapping at his hands all day and yelling at him to "STOP IT!"
Jake is such a sweet and loving little dude, and when I yell at him and slap at his hands he looks so hurt and whines and echos back "stooopp! stooop it!" and "no hurt the mommy." "mommy hug" and other things that otherwise make my heart ache. I want so bad to break into that head of his, but I just can't. I try to act hurt and "cry" when he hurts me.. hell, sometimes I DO cry, but usually only after losing my temper. The things he does that physically hurt me seem almost to be like an addiction or a drug to him. He used to grab and pull and hurt other people and children, grab strange adults and touch them inappropriately, and I thought it was a miracle when he finally stopped doing this as much. His teachers notice none of the behavior that I describe, and according to Mrs. K. he never scratches or pulls on anyone. All of that extra "regulating" energy is now focused on me. Steve even says that he experiences very little of it, but can see it as Jake pokes and scratches me. Part of me just feels like I should be grateful and accept the abuse as a blessing that I no longer have to constantly apologize or get kicked out of playgroups, but my own dislike of being touched outside of my comfort area is hard to ignore.
In case this post isn't long enough, I want to talk about Manny for just a moment. At 15 months he shows no signs of walking, has low muscle tone that seemed to appear all of the sudden over the past 2 months, and I am not sure that he is meeting his milestones. This past weekend, granted, he was sick, but he has also taken a liking to laying on his back and looking at objects (a la Jake) and though he has a word or two and more socially appropriate behavior than Jake did at the same age, I have noticed some skills that have appeared then disappeared. Jake had issues from a very early age and did not meet any milestones on time that I can remember and I do not believe that Jake has or had "regressive" type autism, from what I have been reading and researching. However, how can a mom of a child like Jake not be aware of the possibility that her second son may well regress? In all honesty, I believe that Manny will show more and more sensory issues as the next few months unfold. I write this now only becuase I WILL NOT go through being told that he "is fine, don't worry about it" again, when my gut says otherwise. I will be the happiest mommy alive if I am wrong. I WANT to be wrong. But I also want to get the right care as soon as possible if Manny needs it.
I didn't make a post on Thanksgiving day because I was too busy doing pukey laundry, but I want say that:
I am thankful for my husband, Steve, who came into my life at the exact perfect time and made me realize that Love wasn't a force to be reckoned with, it was just something that happens when its true.
I am thankful that my children are physically healthy and can smile and play and that they too know what love is, even if they don't say it out loud a lot.
I am thankful that we have good food, a house, cars that run well, places to go to have fun and friends to share with.
I am thankful for the internet for helping me gain knowledge that will help my family cope with whatever situations are thrown our way, have friendships that would not otherwise happen, and to keep up with family who would otherwise be remote and unreachable.
