Eva-monster and the Miracle of the Loose Leash

I got a miracle today.  An honest-to-God, miracle.  Most would say it's not really that big a deal, but for me, it's huge!

I took Eva for a 5 km jog today.  It was the first time in a couple of months.  We used to go jogging on a more regular basis but with the torrential downpour that whas the entirety of July, my falling off the wagon exercise-wise, and the addition of a bike contraption which allows Eva to run along beside my bicycle without pulling me over (yay!) we haven't been jogging for a while.

Side note: I know I don't exercise my dog enough.  But between the bike, jogging, and going to my parents' acreage and running around all day with the dogs, she's still getting quite a bit.  And I'm working on getting out with her more often.

I'm gonna go back a bit here.  I've had Eva ever since she was about 10 weeks old.  She's been a part of my family for over 2 years now.  She's been through three different obedience classes and two agility ones.  (You wouldn't believe how fast she is when you can keep her focused.)  And through all that, she still pulls on-leash.  All the time.  Now, she doesn't pull nearly as hard as she used to, but she still pulls.  Two years, and she still pulls.   Argh...

I've used a no-pull harness with her.  (She's outgrown it now.)  I use a partial choke collar so she can only pull so hard before she has to ease up.  Also the sound of the collar clinking helps when I shake the leash before she hits the end, so she can tell better when she's about to hit the pulling point.  But she still pulls.  I freely admit that if I'd walked her more as a puppy I probably wouldn't have this problem.  But I can't go back, so no point dwelling on it.

So today we're going for a jog.  She's excited and wants to run, so she's out there at the very end of that leash.  And then this weird thing starts happening: every so often, she eases up and drops back just a little, for a few seconds.  I am quick to give her a "Good girl, Eva!" of encouragement, because this kind of volunteered behavior should be acknowledged.  And she starts doing it more often, and for longer and longer.  By the time we get to the cool-down walk at the end, she's walking with a slack leash about half the time.  And when she starts pulling, all it takes is for me to say "Easy..." softly for her to slow down and stop pulling.

She still pulls like crazy when she gets excited, but at her more mellow times, she seems to remember that a slack leash is a good thing, and that has me extatic.

So that's my miracle.  After two years, multiple classes, and many hours of walking and jogging while on-leash, she gets it.  My crazy, high-energy dog can settle down enough to enjoy her walks instead of trying to plow through them  Yay!

Love,
      -Nan

In Stitches

I have recently been initiated into an aspect of parenting I would much rather have forgone, thank you very much.

I'm sure many parents have gone through the process of taking their child to emergency for any number of reasons, and I'm sure many are far, far worse than my son's injury.  I am so very sorry you had to go through that.

But this is my story, and the first time your child is injured badly enough to go to the hospital is terrifying, no matter how minor the injury.

Derek's cousin got married a couple of weeks ago.  (Beautiful wedding!  Congratulations to Miranda and Jeff!)  They had an outdoor wedding at a campground, and many of the attendees were camped out there for the weekend.  Ourselves included. 

So there we were with our spiffy new (and by new, I mean it's older than I am, but we just bought it) motorhome, me and Derek and the kids.  And Noah, of course, was having a little trouble coping with all the bustle and change in routine.  So I decided to put him and his brother to bed close to his normal bed time.  We were camped a few minutes walk from the day-use area where the wedding reception was being held.

So I've got Noah and Sean tucked up in bed in the bunk above the cab in the motorhome.  (They sleep in the top bunk because it means it's much less likely that Noah can get out and wander at night.)  Derek's off at the day use area having fun with his relatives.  (We had agreed on this beforehand; he knows his family much better than I do, and he doesn't get to see them very often.  So that night was a party-your-heart-out night for Derek.)

I've just finished tidying up the camp and settling in for a long boring night by the fire with one of my favourite books, when I hear thud, THUD. 

Now you parents in the crowd know that there are thuds, and there are THUDS.  The former is an indication that one or more of your children is misbehaving and is in for a talking-to.  The latter is a clanging alarm bell on the inside of your skull screaming that something is wrong.

So I ran into that camper so fast I had Noah in my arms before he was even crying.  Noah had fallen from the over-cab bunk.  (Sean wasn't even phased by his brother's trauma.)  There was blood, and at first I thought he'd split his lip, but then he tilted his head back.  My thoughts: Oh, that's gonna need stitches.  His chin was split open and the wound was gaping.  That wasn't gonna get fixed with a band-aid.

So I fish out my cell phone and call my husband, telling him, "Noah fell out of the top bunk and he's gonna need stitches."

"I'll be right there."

Those few seconds of trying to keep Noah calm while not panicking, myself, were some of the longest of my life.

He arrives, takes Noah from me.  Noah is quiet now, just making this soft keening sound that alerts us that he's upset and doesn't know what's going on.  Derek turns to me and says, "He's gonna need stitches."

This trips my Sarcasm Circuits, and he gets The Look.  I think: That's what I said, stupid.  I'm pretty sure I didn't say it out loud.  At least I hope I didn't.

Derek's mom and sister-in-law arrive on the scene.  His mom gives us directions to the hospital and says she'll watch Sean.  His brother's wife, Jessica tells us to keep him awake because he may have a concussion.  He is very drowsy at this point, and the accident happened about five minutes earlier.  So we are concerned.  I drive, being as Derek's been drinking, and he rides in the back and keeps Noah awake.

So a fifteen minute drive to a town I don't know, to find a hospital I've never been to in the dark.  The emergency waiting room is empty.  (Thank God!)  They check him out, informed that Noah is autistic.

They give him some medicine so he won't remember being stitched.  (I don't know if this is standard procedure for stitching children or because he's autistic, but I sure appreciated that.)  And after taking the medication, he promptly falls asleep.  He wakes up and it takes four people to hold him when they give him the freezing needle.  And he promptly falls asleep again.  Doesn't even move when they start cleaning the wound.  So Derek and I opt to not watch our baby being poked and stitched, and go to the waiting room.  A few minutes later he has a perfect row of eight tiny stitches under his chin.  They did a beautiful job stitching him.

He shows no symptoms of concussion, and we are allowed to take him back to the camp.

He sleeps like the dead until 9 a.m. the next morning, and is babbling a mile a minute from the moment he wakes up.  He doesn't seem bothered at all by the dressing on his chin, and doesn't seem to be in any pain.  Looks like he's gonna be fine.

So the stitches are out now.  He's going to have a scar there, but the whole ordeal was, in retrospect, not all that bad.  And not nearly as bad as it could have been.  Thank God!

So that was my traumatic induction into the your-child-has-been-injured-and-needs-to-go-to-hospital club.  I hope you never have to join it.

Love,
     -Nan

P.S.  A big thank-you to all the staff at the Fort Saint John hospital.  You were calm, competent and empathetic.  You made a bad experience into a much more tolerable one.  God bless you!

P.P.S.  And also to my sister Candice (a registered nurse) for taking out the stitches while by some miracle keeping Noah calm.  You truly have a gift, sister.

What I've Been Up To...

Sorry I've been away so long.

A great deal has happened in the two months since I last posted.  (I'm not counting the other post from today.)

My dad's side of the family got together to celibrate his parents' 60th wedding anniversary.  We camped out together not far from where I live.  I got to see family I haven't seen in years.  It was a little stressful camping with Noah, what with his habit of wandering off just when he knows no one is paying attention, but it was still a great deal of fun.  Congratulations to Grandma and Grandpa on their anniversary!   Sixty years is almost unheard-of in this day and age.

My own fourth wedding anniversary.  Seems like a lot longer than that, and yet it seems like we just got married last week.  I love you Derek!  Lets aim to break Great Grandma and Grandpa's record of 75 years married!  71 to go...

I turned 30.  dun dun  DUN!  (Insert creepy death music here.)  My birthday was pretty uneventful but I got to spend it with a friend who I rarely get to see, and I'm super-excited about my 30's.  I feel like the best is yet to come, and with exercising and losing 20 lbs since December, I feel younger than I have in years.

Noah got approved for specialized services.  This is a huge deal.  A couple of years of intensive therapy for his speech and social delays could make a huge difference in his ability to be self-sufficient in adulthood.  So now I get the help Noah needs, because honestly I have no clue what I'm supposed to be doing to help him.

Also, I would like to thank my grandparents.  (The same who celebrated their 60th anniversary.)  They very generously offered to buy Noah an Ipad, after they found out we were considering getting one for him.  The Ipad has been amazing.  Noah had been doing so well with his self-help skills at school by June, but his speech had disappeared entirely.  Within two weeks of getting the Ipad, with programs to help him communicate, he was speaking again.  I've even heard him offer a couple of completely unique sentences that were appropriate to the conversation, and he's correctly responding to yes and no questions.  (Usually if he responds to a question, he just repeats it back to the person.)  So the Ipad has been a godsend, and I hope we can integrate it into his therapy program.

So that's what I've been up to this summer.  We also bought a motorhome and have been camping with family.  When the rain finally stopped this summer, we've gotten to spend some time playing in our newly fenced backyard.

The family is all doing well, and that's all I really have to say for now.

Love,
       -Nan

Embracing Emotion

I like to cry.

Yes, there are times when showing emotion embarasses me.  When I get so angry or frustrated that it manifests itself in tears, for instance.  I hate how my face gets red and scrunched up and my eyes get puffy.  (For this reason, I love Julia Roberts.  When that woman cries she actually looks like a real human being.  Unlike most actresses, who somehow manage to still look perfect while bawling their eyes out.)

But for the most part, I like to cry.  I embrace my emotions as they come.  One of the rules I live by is this:

Don't ever apologise for how you feel.  Apologise for how you act, but never how you feel.

You are entitled to your emotions.

When I get into a melancholia mood, I tend to wallow in it.  I put on music that matches my mood, and let the emotions come.  I spent all morning yesterday crying because I was watching Grey's Anatomy.  (Stupid, addictive soap opera...)  Sometimes when the emotions are buried, I have to use something to help them to the surface.  I think that bout of crying helped, because here I am writing again for the first time in two months.  I've been suffering a serious block.  Fell off the wagon exercise and diet wise too. 

Time to get back on the horse, so to speak.

So I guess what I've been trying to say is that I'm fighting off my depression by simply stopping fighting it.  And letting the emotions come in full force, and letting them surface, dealing with them and moving on.  I'm feeling better for embracing my emotions, rather than trying to stuff them into a box.  It's nice to not feel numb anymore.

Love,
       -Nan

P.S.  The form of depression I suffer from is very mild.  This helps me to deal with it.  I'm not in any way saying that this works for everyone.  If you suffer from depression, talk to someone about it.  Message me, call a hotline, call a friend.  No one can help you if they don't know you suffer.  So ask for help.  People love you and care for you.  The world is a better place with you in it.

Thank you Miss Tania!

How do you thank someone who has made such a difference in your child's life that there are literally no words to describe it?

I'll give it my best shot.

My family was blessed last school year to have a teacher's aide assigned to Noah who is truly passionate about children, most particularly preschoolers with special needs.

When Noah started preschool almost two years ago he was a completely different person.  He would throw himself on the floor and scream every day when I dropped him off, and every day again when I picked him up.  I would often have to carry him to the car and hold him down into his carseat so I could get him belted in.  I had to put his shoes and coat on for him at school because he couldn't do it himself.  (He turned 3 right after he started preschool last year.)  He wouldn't even acknowledge if someone said his name.  When I looked through our family pictures, I could only find two images of him smiling.

Tania was always patient with Noah, whether he was having a meltdown, disturbing group time in class, or just not sitting still.  She was the first person to tell me that Noah was autistic.  We knew that something was off with him, and suspected he may be autistic, but she was the first to confirm that whenever we managed to get him diagnosed, we already knew what we were dealing with.  She helped me to adjust to that reality, showing me that the key to dealing with my autistic child was in accepting him for who he was, and helping him to be everything he is capable of being.

Miss Tania stayed by Noah's side throughout the school year, helping him to do things that come naturally to most of us, but were so very difficult for him.  At the end of the year she gave him a big hug and gave me dozens of pictures she had taken of him throughout the school year.  They're all in a preschool photo album, a record of his progress last year.

And this school year we were doubly blessed to have Miss Tania back as Noah's full-time in-school teacher's aide once again.  We were sooooo happy when we heard that news!  And once again Miss Tania was patient and loving and wonderful through Noah's obsessions with his backpack, his boots, puzzles.  Through his bouts of frustration and aggression with her and his fellow students.  She helped administer his new look and learn therapy as well as his music therapy program.  (And by helped, I mean she did all the work with some advice and supervision of Noah's Occupational Therapist and Speech Therapists.)

And now, at the end of Noah's second year in preschool, his second and likely last year with the amazing and wonderful Miss Tania, these are the things that Noah now does on a regular basis:

-He puts on and takes off his shoes and coat all by himself.  (Even his coat zipper!)

-He arrives at and leaves the school calmly, just like any other kid.

-He smiles!  All the time!

-He makes eye contact, even seeks it out when he wants something.  (This is absolutely huge for an autistic individual.  Eye contact is a very basic and integral part of human social interaction, which most autists find difficult or even impossible.)

-He can follow simple directions and will respond when you say his name. 

Most of this amazing progress can be attributed directly to Miss Tania, and her care and dedication.  She saw the potential in my child, and helped him to reach it.  And I will always remember her as the very first person (even before me!) to do so.

Miss Tania, you were like our Mary Poppins, swooping in and transforming our child, our family.  And I would honestly love to keep you forever, but I know I can't.  There are other children who need you as much as we did two years ago.  We still need you, and we will all miss you so very much, but I think there are little boys and girls out there who need you more. 

On behalf of myself, Derek, Noah and Sean, we love you and wish you the very best, and we will all miss you very very much.  (And I am crying as I write this.)

Thank you. 

Love,
     -Nan

Reflection: The Boxer

Gonna try something a little different for this post.

In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev'ry glove that layed him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains

from the song "The Boxer" by Simon and Garfunkel, written by Paul Simon

I love this song.  Always have.  I feel like it speaks to me, most particularly the verse I quoted above.

Have you ever felt like that boxer?  I have.  All the time, really.  Or I used to.  The song is more nostalgic to me now; a reminder of how I felt for a few years of my life, and how I finally walked away from the things that made me feel that way.

When I was in my early twenties, I partied a lot.  I met a lot of men.  And I allowed many of those men to get far closer to me than most of them had any right to be, physically and emotionally.  This is not about having someone force their affections on me.  This is about my allowing them access to myself that they did not deserve.  I am not proud of this part of my past, but neither am I ashamed anymore.  It happened, and all the shame and recrimination cannot remove these experiences from my own past.  They have helped shape who I am now, and I am reconciled with those feelings.  But the worst, the absolute worst part of these years, these men, these experiences was the fact that I lied to myself the entire time.  Each time I was with someone new, I told myself that this would be different, that this would be the last time.  And it never was.  Until I finally allowed myself to give when I chose to, not expecting anything in return, and to withhold when I chose to, walking away when the relationship was no longer beneficial to me.

To me, the song is about lying to yourself. Being in a situation that you find intolerable and telling yourself that you're going to just walk away and leave it all behind. But you don't. You stay, and you survive. And it kills something inside you as long as you stay. But in the same way, when you finally find the strength to go, the experience makes you stronger.

I see myself standing in that clearing, with all my scars out there for all the world to see.  The scars of my self-deceit and the emotional abuse that I inflicted upon myself.  The scars are there long after the pain has faded.  And in retrospect, I am proud of those scars.  They are concrete proof that I felt, and I hurt and that I lived.  And I am still here.  And I am stronger for having survived those things.

And that is why I love "The Boxer" by Simon and Garfunkel.  Give it a listen sometime.

Love,
    -Nan

Sean-Monster

Three years ago today at approximately 11:30am, I gave birth to a 10 lb monstrosity.  (Monstrosity referring to the size of the child, not the child himself.)

I named him Sean.  Actually I had been calling the unborn baby "him" and "Sean" since about five months along, when I woke up at 3 am, woke Derek up and asked, "What about Sean for a boy?".  Derek had grunted something akin to assent and Sean has been "Sean" ever since.  I didn't have a dream or anything, I just woke up with the idea, his name should be Sean.  And ran with it.

I had been concerned that I wouldn't bond with the baby right away.  I was so stressed out and overwhelmed when Noah was born that I didn't really bond with him until about a month after he was born.  I needn't have worried.  It was love at first sight.

*Note: This does not mean that I love one of my children any more than the other.  It is perfectly normal to not bond with a new baby immediately, and I fully understood such at the time with Noah.  I just hoped it wouldn't happen to me twice.

Sean has always been very stubborn and very aware of how cute he is.  He's an insufferable flirt.  He loves to play outside, climb on furniture, and say 'Hi' to everyone he passes.  He is the bane of his brother's existence, as he takes his role of 'little brother' very seriously.

He is my little monster-child and I love him very much. 

Happy Birthday, Sean-Monster!

Love,
    -Mommy

Life Update

I've been writing quite often about abstract ideas.  Time I talked a bit more about myself and my family again.

I got a bicycle for mother's day, so I've picked up cycling again after 10 years of not riding at all.  I figure with the jogging and the water aerobics, I've got a nice mix of exercise.  I bought an attachment for the bike so Eva can run with me and I won't wipe out or run her over.  I like it so far.  I've lost 18 lbs since January first of this year.  I haven't lost much in the last month so I need to start exercising more often again.  For the first time in years I have energy and I like the way I look and feel.  I think my husband has noticed a difference as well.  I've been seriously considering starting to write a novel.  It's a scary idea and I'm stalling though.  Also, I need a good idea to start with.

Noah's still in preschool.  He's doing pretty well and his teacher's aide is taking him over to the elementary to spend half an hour every day with the Kindergarten class.  He seems to really like it and this should help him transition to the new school and program when he starts Kindergarten there in the fall.  He's not talking very much (again) but he's doing very well in other areas.  He will put his own shoes and coat on when it comes time to go home, and he's getting very good at following directions.  He has also been making sooo much eye contact!  He actually seeks information from those around him by looking at their eyes.  This is a very important and vital thing for an individual with autism to learn and use, so those who know Noah are very excited about this new development!

Sean has been spending some time over at his Auntie's house, with a cousin a few months older than him, and it seems to have helped him immensely.  He actually uses words to get his needs met now.  He's still pretty far behind in verbal skills for a three-year-old, but he's making progress and wants to know new words and use them.  We're in the process of trying to get him tested for autism, based on the advice of a speech pathologist.  He's not nearly as delayed as Noah, but he still may be on the spectrum.  It's better for us to know and get him help and treat him according to his needs, than ignore the problems just because he doesn't seem as delayed as his big brother.

We had a bit of a setback with Eva.  She snapped at my dad when he stepped in on her being obnoxious with his dog, and I seriously considered finding her a new home.  It is not okay for her to be agressive with people.  The actual problem is not her behavior with people though.  It's her behavior with other dogs.  She doesn't seem to be able to read and understand the body language of other dogs, especially when they're telling her to back off.  I don't think she does it deliberately, but her style of play is very agressive and dominating.  So I've got her back in a "Manners" class, so she can learn some better behavior.  She seems to be catching on, and I no longer think I'll need to give her away.  I want to keep her.  She's my dog, and I love her.  But if it came to a choice, my kids come first.  I cannot keep an animal near my children if it is potentially dangerous to them.  An accidental bite is still a bite, regardless of the reason.  But I reiterate: we're doing good now and Eva stays right where she is.

Derek's doing well.  Getting lots done in the yard and hanging out with the kids.  We've been making more time for just the two of us and we're both enjoying the time together.

So that's what's going on in my life and my family right now.

Love,
      -Nan

Miracle Math

I am no mathematician, so I'm no expert on the subject, but the first thing we are taught in elementary math class is this:

1+1=2

I'm going to present to you a different kind of math.

In my life, 1+1=4

Two people come together and create two more, without any discernable diminishing of the original two in the equation.  In fact, one could speculate that the original two in this equation have gained (Aside from the weight gain, of course. This concept refuses to speculate on sneaky post-childbearing weight gain.)from the miracle math that added two more from almost complete nothingness.

Life starts with two cells.  By some strange, unpredictable process two cells which are incapable of creating life on their own, when brought together, start to split and become more, and more and more cells.  And somehow some of those cells know to become skin, and others heart.  Others develop into the brain, the nervous system.  Muscles.  Bone.  And somehow, through Miracle Math, all these cells form together to be an actual person.  After time spent growing and borrowing what is needed from another entity becomes someone entirely separate from all others, unique.

A brain to think.  A personality to be.  A heart, a soul, to love.  All somehow created from two, to become a third entity.  A mathematical impossibility.

And here's another impossibility for you: it happens all the time.  It has happened more times than any person is capable of counting.  The process may be different, but the result is the same; with human beings, with animals, plants.  Bugs, even.

The next time you look at your parents, think about the mathematical impossibility that is you.  Same with your kids.  And then consider thanking whatever Creator you may believe in for everyday miracles.  Just because they happen all the time, doesn't make them any less mysterious, or any less awesome.

And don't take the everyday miracles for granted.

Love,
    -Nan

Beauty

So lately I feel beautiful.  On a regular basis.  For the first time since I had kids.  So I got to thinking why that is.

Is it because of the weight I've lost?  Getting regular exercise?  The fact that it's warm lately and the snow has finally melted and the sun is shining?

The answer is, all of the above, but the weight loss and the exercise and the fact that I actually want to get out in the sun are symptoms of something far bigger.

You see, being skinny doesn't make you beautiful.  Or being tanned, or tall, or having expensive clothes.  How many people do you know whose body you would kill to be in, who are tremendously unhappy?  I can think of a few off the top of my head.

I've noticed when I go to water aerobics that many of the women there wrap a towel around themselves when they're not in the pool.  A great many of those women are smaller and more fit than I am.  I would rather be my size with my body confidence, than skinnier with theirs.

So what is it that makes me feel beautiful lately?  I've come to realise that it's love, and acceptance.  I didn't like my body before, so I decided to change it.  Not just to lose weight, but to develop skills for a healthy lifestyle, and be a better example for my children.  To feel better about myself.  It is an internal change as much as an external one.  As I learned to take better care of myself, I also learned to like myself better.  To accept my flaws, even while trying to improve them.

I learned to love myself.  You take good care of the things you love, and it shows.  I've seen people who are "overweight" who are incredibly beautiful, because they accept themselves, and aren't fixated on what is "wrong" with how they look.

So if you don't feel beautiful, why?  Maybe instead of obsessing about what is wrong with you, you should focus on what is right.  Decide to love yourself, and your outward image will transform to suit.  The next time you feel "ugly", "fat", "stupid", or any of the other ugly words we all use to run ourselves down, try repeating these words to yourself:

I am not loved because I am beautiful.  I am beautiful because I am loved.  And today, I choose to love myself.

Love,
     Nan