London Calling

On stage: London's first big performance

They say that public speaking is feared more than death.  I love the limelight when speaking is concerned, but my singing is limited to the car or shower or in front of the kids.  (Blu wishes that I'd stop singing when he's around too, but he's a captive audience on a road trip.) 

The kids were born to sing and dance.  They put on shows for us whenever we have a family event and sing their way through the day.  Last week, London had his first big kid performance with a first and second grade music assembly.  For most kids, singing in front of a crowd can be intimidating.  But with all of the inputs -- lights, people, loud noise -- I was worried that London might not be able to handle it all.

I think I've mentioned that London bites when he's really overwhelmed.  So far -- knock on wood -- he hasn't chopped down on a classmate.  He's opened his mouth like he was going in for a big bite of flesh but has been able to stop himself.  As I watched him walk onto the stage, I imagined the worst.  Would he bit the kid next to him in front of his whole class?  Would that be the thing kids remember about him at high school graduation? 

Spoiler:  He was fine.  (I didn't want you to get too worried.)  Before the show, I reminded him of some of the exercises he learned at occupational therapy.  He kind of brushed me off at the time, but I saw him using them during the show which made me more proud of him than I already was.  He sang.  He danced.  He kept his cool.  That was a really big deal. 

Focused for hours

London spends hours building a plane out of a box

London always amazes me.  About two weeks ago, I went into a basement organizing frenzy, clearing out garbage, storing items we'll never use in the crawl space, building five sets of shelves and organizing everything.  The kids now have a nice play space that they can leave a mess if they'd like, but more importantly it's a space where they can be as creative as they want.  We've stocked loads of paint, brushes, crayons, glitter, paper, legos, toys and on and on.

I think that all kids love boxes.  And we parents love them too.  We've made all kinds of things from boxes:  houses, boats, restaurants, cars ....  London called all of the boxes  from the shelving units.  He wanted to create something with them on his own.  Since I was focused/hell bent on finishing my basement organizing project that I'd been planning for over a year, I was very happy to let him build.  (Note Violet was helping me build an entertainment center -- also for the basement -- which was a big project in itself.)

London was so quiet and focused that I completely forgot about him.  At one point, I saw him working with a very large pair of sissors and I cringed.  Could one really cut off a finger?  I could see loosing an eye for sure.  But before I stepped in to stop him from impaling himself, I saw how incredibly focused he was on his project.  In fact, he hadn't made a sound in over an hour.  He had cut out the body of the plane and one wing perfectly.  I just couldn't take him away from that.  So I sat nervously while he finished cutting and let out a big sigh of relief when he was safely done.

He was so proud when he gave me a tour of his creation.  He'd made wings from the styrofoam in the entertainment center packaging.  The wings were so long that at one point he had to walk away from his project because he was terribly upset about them touching the floor.  After a little break, he decided to add a small piece of styrofoam to support his wings.  It was a great lesson learned in patience. 

Now the plane sits undisturbed next to his train -- which he actually plays with every once in a while.   He loves to create and what I love most about his creations is that he can build based upon only his imagination.  He doesn't need a guide or directions or even a parent to help him.  I don't think I know many adults who have that kind of imagination.  I love watching him grow into a big boy.  (Yeah, I totally started crying when I wrote "big boy."  Who wouldn't?)

 

Cup stacking

London cup stacking

London has always played with toys a little differently than most kids.  As a toddler, he'd line up his match box cars or Thomas trains and only rarely would he play with them.  He'll spend hours building with legos or Lincoln Logs and when his project is complete, he moves on. 

About a week ago, London came home and asked if we had any plastic cups.  He'd recently been introduced to Cup Stacking in gym and wanted to give us a demonstration.  We didn't really have the kind of cups he needed so I texted Blu and asked him to stop at the store on the way home from kicking A at TKD to get a pack. 

The next morning, London could barely make it through breakfast because he was so excited about cup stacking.  We literally had to tear him away with a few tears shed in the process to get him to the bus stop. 

That night he was right back at it.  He spent some time patiently showing Violet how to play the game.  At first, this seemed like a great tool for London to use to calm himself.  But, I was so, so wrong.  When we would make noise -- even in another room -- and London would make a stacking mistake, he would freak.  Like a super scary angry freak.  We had to walk away a few times.

But he would not be stopped.  On Saturday, the babysitter spent the afternoon with the kids while we worked at the store for a special promotion.  She took them to her house for a little while where she had an official Cup Stacking set and he played for hours.  He's like a little cup stacking maniac.

I did just a bit of research regarding cup stacking.  From what I've read, the stacking helps with sensory integration.  It also allows kids who aren't interested in or very good at traditional sports to "win" at something else.  I kind of like that idea.  One day, we may even have an Olympian Cup Stacker in the family. 

Girls day

Violet's tea party

Last Tuesday, when I picked Violet up from school, I realized -- because of a really big sign on the wall -- that school was closed with no childcare on Friday.  Usually, when the school is closed, the all year kids (aka daycare) have childcare.  It's a really fun day for them:  they bring their own lunch, play games and do all kinds of crafts.  But this Friday was one of a few days throughout the year where childcare was also closed. 

At first I thought of a number of scenarios that included Violet going to work with her dad or me watching her in the morning and then going to work around 11.  Somehow Taylor would have to watch her or the store in the afternoon.  It was a stretch. 

On Thursday I had a tiny epiphany.  First, I hadn't had a girls day with Violet in a long time.  Second, I'm totally burned out at work right now.  Third, I was traveling all of the following week.  We were long over due for a play day and it was great. 

 

Violet's manicure

We started by having a nice breakfast and sending London off to school.  Then we went to work out -- OK I worked out and Violet watched -- followed by a trip to the grocery store where Miss Violet pushed her child sized cart and helped pick out our groceries.  Then we had our friend Brooke and her mom over for a tea party.  (Super cute.)  After a little rest/cuddle time, we went for manicures. 

Girl time rules.  I felt refreshed and grounded after our day.  Violet was treated like a princess.  She's only four, but I hope that she'll have memories of the fun -- and sometimes crazy -- stuff we do together.  I know that I will.

Inspired by bloggers

I have so many kid updates to share ... but I never seem to make the time.  Today, I'm at an event with a bunch of really creative bloggers -- people who blog full time and come up with creative and cool DIY ideas every week.  They are inspiring me to take the time -- just a few minutes a week to talk about the kids. 

It's a little late for a New Year's resolution, but here it is:  my goal is to write once a week.  I think it helps me to "talk" through challenges and also allows me to record stories that I will likely forget. 

Good times, tough times

The holidays have been wonderful and challenging. We've learned a lot of lessons over the past few years that have helped us manage all of the craziness around the holidays ... and sometimes I just black it all out and don't remember until I'm in the thick of it -- yeah, that's a bad idea.  Here are a few of our experiences -- both good and bad.

1. Breakfast with Santa.  Why do we go?  Too many kids, too much sugar and Santa is a really scary guy up close.  This year we were smarter, but I really wonder why I even wanted to take on the challenge.
   We arrived late.  No big mosh pit of little kids rushing Santa.  When it was time to line up to see Santa -- even though we had a number -- it was overwhelming for London and Violet wasn't very happy about it either.  This year, when London started to bite my arm, we moved to the side and he calmed down almost immediately.  Whew.  After we talked with Santa, we went to my quiet office to play.  Not bad.  Could be better.
2. The Nutcracker.  London and I were kicked out of the show two years ago.  This year, Violet & I went with friends.  I had planned on leaving at intermission, but decided to stay.  Bad call.  We made it, but just barely.
3. Christmas morning.  We took our time that morning.  London spent a few hours building his new Lego train which required help from us and caused a lot of frustration.  Not bad, could be better.
4. Christmas vacation.  I thought it would be a really great idea to go away for a few days between Christmas and New Years.  Just a short drive north to Wisconsin for sledding and an indoor water park.  Violet had the hardest time with so much activity and missed naps.  London had a few challenges but handled all of the new experiences very well.  Pretty good. Maybe a do-over.

We're winding up the last night of our little vacation and Blu has made a tent for the kids in our room.  (Nice work.  I'm pretty sure his motivation is .... well, you know.  Nice work Mr. Y.)   A new year, and new adventures await. 

We could use a little help here

It's a bit ironic -- I hate to ask for help and the one time that I'm asking just about every person I can think to ask, we're just not getting it.  Before the school year started, I reached out to our district's Special Ed department head and to London's teacher.  (Well, the sub who was teaching the class until this Monday while our full-time teacher was on maternity leave.)  Special Ed said that London couldn't be evaluated until he was in school 60-90 days (can't remember, I think it was 90 days).  Until then, we could work with our teacher to help him with any special needs.  I sent over copies of London's OT progress in hopes that if he had problems, it would help the Special Ed staff find a solution more easily.

So ... I talked with the sub who said that she was familiar with Sensational Kids and had some ideas for helping London throughout the day.  When I didn't hear anything, I thought that he was adjusting well.  I was concerned that he was having a hard time making friends, but at least he could sit still at his desk and he was enjoying learning.  About two weeks ago, we had our parent - teacher conferences.  That's when the sub told us that London was having a hard time keeping his hands to himself in line and that they had to put him at the end of the line.  In fact, his "touching" was so bad that a parent had called her to complain.

At first I thought, well at least he hasn't bitten anyone yet.  But I'm sure that he scares his classmates when he approaches them with his mouth wide open.  Later, when I had time to think about it more, I was angry.  If I had known that London was struggling, we could've worked with our Occupational Therapist to get him tools so that he wouldn't have to struggle so much.  Why didn't his teacher talk with a school OT to help build a plan for him?  Why aren't we helping him?

There is a little ray of sunshine from this all.  You see, London is very aware of his Sensational challenges.  He knows that he has a hard time controlling himself when inputs are too much.  And, he has been able to stop himself from biting kids at school.  (Family is another thing, but we're working on it.)  He knows that some things help him cool down his engine:  soft music, heavy work, running.  Since he can identify his sensory overload, it will be so much easier for him to manage it -- but we have to give him the right tools to do it. 

I will not fail this kid.  He is smart and sweet and wants to have friends and be a regular kid.  I've realized through our experiences in the first quarter of school that we have to advocate for him very passionately and regularly.  Which means, I'll be THAT mom.  

 

(London's most awkward class photo from a field trip.  We cried when we saw how uncomfortable he looked.  More recent photos are better and he's made three friends in class.)

Once bitten: travel causes pain for London & me

I've been on the road for business most of October.  The biggest challenge is that I've lost a few weekend days to travel as well.  All kids get a little squirly when there is a change at home, but London has been acting out in ways that I haven't seen in a while.

Even though I've taken off a little early from work a day or two and took a Friday to spend with the kids at Kohl Children's museum, that doesn't seem to make up for all of the nights that I've been out of town.  (We had a blast at the museum.  The kids could've stayed there for days.  London bit me about a dozen times throughout our museum visit.)

And there we have it.  London has started biting me again.  It's just me and he bites my arms.  He started doing this when I first began traveling again -- he was just over a year old at the time.  I've noticed that it only happens after I've been away.  But (1) it hurts and (2) I'm scared to death that he'll bite a kid from school.  (He'll occaisionally take a bite out of Violet too.)

The Occupational Therapist suggested giving him gum to chew so that he's not thinking about chewing me.  I'll give it a try I guess.  It makes sense to me -- give him something else to chew instead of my arm. 

Two more trips scheduled before Thanksgiving.  (I've cancelled one other trip that can be handled by a colleague.)  We send each other videos and Facetime whenever we can but I don't think that helps as much as I'd like to think.  Below is an example of how we say good night many nights when I'm away.  Kind of sad, but still cute.  (Note Violet's non-stop twirling.)

 

"We've got to pray" MC Hammer

I pray all of the time: when I run, when I drive, when I put the kids to sleep, when I'm walking the dog -- pretty much whenever I have a second of peace. I guess it's because I grew up in a family that prayed all of the time. When my mom was sick, her friends would stop by to pray. The hospital pre-op room was packed with friends as they prayed together before each of her surgeries. And we'd pray about everything from world peace to school exams to the dog's health.

All of the years I've been praying, it still really freaks me out when prayers are answered. When we were selling our house and it had been on the market for over a year, my mom prayed that someone would just fall in love with it. And they did, but they didn't buy it. So we asked my mom to clarify a bit next time and pray that someone would buy our house for a good price. And, you guessed it, we received a bid for just below asking -- which was higher than the true value of the home -- AND it was a cash sale that closed in 10 days. Go mom!

This week I experienced "the answer" twice and it still shocks me. Honestly, this time it kind of scared me.

Prayer Numero Uno: Please make me healthy enough to finish the marathon
About three weeks ago as I was getting ready to leave for work, I made a bad decision. Emily was having a hard time getting up the stairs to the kitchen and I didn't want her to be stuck all day next to our back door, so I decided to lift her up -- all 80+ pounds of her lazy yellow lab self -- while I was wearing really, really high heels. And .... ouch! Pain shot through my back. It was terrible. I was sweating and crying. Later that morning, when I went to the doctor, I cried walking from the car to the doctor's front desk.

The doctor told me to lay off exercise for three weeks. I iced and stretched and prayed and asked my running friends to pray and had a few massages. Still, I was warned not to run and just four days before the marathon I was still feeling the discomfort. Plus, all of my back issues had traveled to other parts of my body: hips, IT band, etc. I only ran once the three weeks before the marathon & I was scared.

But on marathon morning, I set out with 50,000 other runners and finished. It was hard and my body felt every mile, but my back held strong and even with a few extra challenges, not only did I finish, but I finished with a great time. And my body actually felt better the day after the marathon that I had felt just a week earlier. Odd, right?

Prayer Numero Dos: Please keep me safe while I travel this week and keep my family safe at home.
This is a pretty common request. I travel quite a bit and usually pray about everyone's safety on my way to the airport. Today was no different. "Please watch over the kids and keep us all safe" etc.

I was driving on 290 and traffic was moving along at a nice pace -- about 60 mph -- for 7:30 in the morning. I was singing along to whatever was on the radio and keeping an eye on the cars around me. There was a white VW GTI to my right that reminded me of a former co-worker who is a triathlete. And I was singing along when the van in front of me put on his brakes pretty quickly and the cars to my left stopped even faster, some pulling onto the side of the road to stop in time. Because the van was in front of me, I missed what had happened, but I saw that the white VW GTI had crashed into the cement wall next to the left lane crushing the entire front of the car and there were about four other cars involved.

It was an accident that I missed by less than a second. Not only that, but the white van in front of me blocked not only my view but protected me from responding in a way that might have caused more damage. (Like if I freaked out because I saw the accident and over-corrected and hit some other car.)

Oddly, while I write this blog about prayer, I'm pretty sure that the guy next to me on the plane is getting a hand job from his girlfriend. Guess I should start praying that they decide to be al little more discrete.

Marathon cheer crew

Thank you family for supporting me during training and for showing up on race day to cheer me on. Every Saturday morning for the last 16+ weeks, they've given me the time for my long run which sometimes interfered with ballet lessons or yummy Saturday breakfasts.

On Saturday we dragged London and Violet to the city in terrible traffic to get to the expo to pick up my bib. The kids had the sillies which can be fun at times or really annoying in he car. Worse, they decided to have a fart fest so they were both annoying and smelly.

My little family dropped me off at my dad's new city apartment and headed home. At dad's I was spoiled with dinner and my favorite pre-race breakfast: PB&J. Better, I scored a ride to the start line and was able to sleep in as much as possible.

The race was so hard. I felt every mile. Mostly because I had stopped running the prior three weeks because of a back injury. I went into the race not knowing if I could run 5 miles let alone finish.

I met up with my training group for the first six miles and then headed out alone. Some "stomach issues" slowed me a bit but seeing all of the Oasis (my charity) cheerers along the way helped a ton. But best was meeting my friend Erica at mile 19. She ran the rest of the race with me and helped me keep my mind off of my discomfort and helped me stretch out a wacky IT band at mile 25.

My family saw me close to the end but I missed them. I saw my dad just before I turned the corner to the finish which helped to give me the final boost that I needed.

My finish was much better than I expected but I really felt it. I started walking to where my charity group was meeting and realized that I better get my family and gear - and cell phone - first. When I found them I could tell that the kids and Blu were done. Patience had been lost by all and they would never make the long walk through a big crowd. So we left and headed to my dad's for a much needed shower.
I don't know if it's worth dragging them to see me. Maybe next year I'll give them a break and catch a ride home without having them chase me around. I guess we'll see.