Playing together

Oliver and Popples are 2 years apart, he’s in year 1 now and she’s in nursery.  I always worry that as she grows she will leave him behind and they will both have an element of loss and loneliness.  Yet as I watch them interact and I look back on videos (I’m old school I always call everything recorded “videos”) I worry less.  They have a bond.  They may not always understand what each other is trying to do but they try to get it.

Oliver got hold of my tablet and was watching the videos of him and her playing.  One game he invented was to shout “aaaahhh” at her and she did it back and they got louder and more giggly.  One of them was of Popples putting a happy meal box on his head and saying “burger head” amidst giggles whilst he chased her about with the box still on his head.  She watches him play and I can see in her eyes she doesn’t quite get his obsession with building towers, but then I see her face change, when she wants to play with him, and as young as she is I can see her figuring out how to insert herself into his world and be accepted.  Usually passing a brick, or counting or naming the colour and she’s in.  They have eye contact and a common goal and he jabbers, she talks back- leaves a space for him to answer- then answers for him if there’s no verbal response with a “yeah?” at the end.

He sometimes wants to play with her, he hangs back a bit more, obviously unsure of her more complex games but she notices and invites him in.  They like doing “shops and cooking” as he can name foods and can play tea parties, drinking pretend drinks and nomming pretend food.  He likes to chase, monsters is a popular game in our house accompanied with lots of screaming and bumping into each other.

In the bath last night they were blowing bubbles in the water, he took his turn then looked at her expectantly- being tired she missed the cue, but when prompted, joined in.  Then a bout of screaming at each other and splashing water all over the floor and it was hair washing time.   Laughing he used an octopus toy to rinse her hair, she laughed and then used a fish toy on his hair.  If I had done that there would have been tears, but it was their game and they played for an age- until there was hardly any water left in the bath!

He has confidence in a lot of situations that she lacks and she looks up to him to see if it’s safe.  She is wary of parties and changes at school, but he had his party Wednesday at school so when it came to hers on Thursday she was ok about it cos “my bruvver had one asterday”.  She helps him with his speech and making sure I know what he wants, she accepts him and loves him and looks up to him.  He’s her hero.  He helps her with her confidence and being brave and climbing.  She wrecked his game the other day and where 6 months ago he would have smacked her he shouted “Peppy.  Go away!”.  The fallout was short lived,  It’s much more fun being pals.

I wonder how much is instinct.  When something scary happened when they were playing upstairs he got her into the bathroom and shut the door- obviously the safest place upstairs.  Is that just what older siblings are “programmed” to do?  (obviously they weren’t alone long, certain footfalls a parent hears and knows that it’s not good).  Although they have rivalry over toys, time on knees etc I think their relationship is really good.  I love watching them play, especially when they don’t know I’m watching.  I think I need to worry less- that bond will only grow stronger, so I will just enjoy watching them and their relationship that is pretty much 50/50.

 

xx

How can people be so mean?

Max had a placement in a park that had a café.  It was, and is, intended for adults with disabilities to provide a safe place for them to learn skills.  Life skills, relationship skills and maintenance, serving in café, cooking etc.  Each programme is tailor made to each clients abilities and what they are wanting to achieve.  They help support more able clients back to work, helping with cv’s and work focussed activities too.

Max has been there just over a year.  It’s expensive as he needs 1-to-1 care but it seemed to be a blessing when we found it so we applied for funding and got 4 days a week at a £100 a day.  It used to be run by a lovely bloke who retired a few months ago.   Max was given a programme of shopping, doing basic gardening like weeding, cleaning café tables, groundskeeping and going to into town to get used to being in the community again.  He loved it, he was happy, so we were happy.

A few weeks ago, things started to change.  It doesn’t sound much but the staff weren’t there to meet the clients on time, often rolling up, up to 15 minutes late.  Last week I had an appointment with Oliver and I went to drop Max off first.  No one to meet him so someone went down to the meeting room to get his stand in 1-to-1 as his usual one was off sick.  He came back with the message “he’s busy his mum’ll have to wait with him- he’ll come when he’s ready”  so I said I couldn’t wait as I had an appointment, and a lady member of staff sat with him when I left.  I didn’t feel very comfortable about the attitude but had to rush off.  It was only later telling the story to the husband that I started thinking about the changes I had noticed.  The clients had started waiting outside, in the rain at times rather than in the café.  Nothing was as clean as it used to be.  The table Max had been allocated after his meltdown so he could eat in peace away from the noise was still reserved and when I asked I was told he still went there for his morning brew and his lunch- it’s winter in the north west of England!

His usual 1-to-1 got in touch with me and said she wasn’t coming back.  And then proceeded to tell me why.  Horror story after horror story came out and I felt sick to my stomach hearing about the way these vulnerable people were being treated and spoken to.  Max had been shouted at by a staff member, they had taken the piss out of him and the noises he makes (he is non verbal), he’d been isolated from the group, everytime he found something he liked doing they took it away from him, his shopping visits and community visits had stopped and he was not allowed to be helped in his work focussed chores.  We had made it clear from the start he wasn’t ever going to be work focussed hence his programme of skills being designed for him.  Other clients were referred to in derogatory ways depending on their disblilites, swear words used and tasks set that they could never complete.  I asked for evidence and she sent me a text she’d received from Max’s new 1-to-1 complaining about his high pitched noises and saying she had to come back cos he couldn’t cope with him.  I felt so sick- he only makes high pitched noises when distressed so what the hell were they doing to him?  He can’t tell me.

I asked why she hadn’t said anything to me and she said she’d tried to deal with it internally but management weren’t bothered.   We decided to withdraw him .  I don’t want him somewhere he is going to be treated like a burden.  We’ve spent the last 2 days on the phone going through the proper channels to have him withdrawn and all payments stopped.  Now he has no support in place but at least he’s safe, at home with me.  What I don’t understand is how sick do you have to be to treat vulnerable people like this?  Why work at a place if you don’t like the people you’re working for?  We, and the other clients, pay these peoples wages.

My son has now lost a placement where he was happy for a year due to sick bullies.  I don’t know what’s going to happen next for us or for the centre.  I don’t know if social services will keep us informed, I know his personal budget that had just been approved is now no good.  But I know he is safe.  I know it will be hard work for me, but I know he is safe.

I have cried so much over this, how can people pick on my boy like this?  And how can they keep getting away with it?  I am sad for Max mostly, he’s lost more independence and he didn’t have much to start with.  Why can no one see that he is funny, loveable and so eager to please? Why do they have to ruin the little he has?

He has his family who love him, I hope somewhere he knows that and that now he feels safe.

 

xx

 

Bonfire night

We didn’t have a bonfire- it’s too risky with the little ones and the rain has been so fierce all our wood was wet anyway.  We got a small box of fireworks and some sparklers and some traditional fayre.  Mum brought black peas (eugh!) and parkin, Leon made jacket potatoes and sausages and we sat as a family and ate before the excitement began.  Max loves fireworks now, as long as they aren’t too bangy.  Popples does not like fireworks “they make noise that hurts my ears and tummy” so she had asked me if we could watch from the conservatory.  Oliver had screamed last year and shut himself in the living room until it was all over.  So we were expecting to be doing them primarily for Max.

However, when Leon brought out the boxes, Oliver went and grabbed his coat, hat and shoes.  Max was already ready, and Popples put her coat on and agreed to come outside with me.  That didn’t last long.  As soon as the first fountain had finished, we were in the conservatory.  We could see them and talked about how sparkly they were and she seemed ok with this arrangement.  Under big sisters supervision, Oliver got a sparkler and waved it around with a big smile on his face.  He “ooh”-ed at the roman candles and fountains, jumped and laughed at the rockets and signed for another sparkler, which he got.  The boys thoroughly enjoyed it.  It was a huge surprise after Oliver’s behaviour last year and his dad was made up.  Leon has had a few hard weeks, seems like the anger has given way to sadness, but seeing the boys laughing and taking part really perked him up. He said I’d missed out being inside but I didn’t miss out at all.  I got to see my son’s loving the experience, and I got to see the rest of the family enjoying my sons enjoyment.  We get to see so many struggles so for everyone to see this joy was amazing.  Who knew a few fireworks would bring so much positivity to the family.  Although it may have been that, for the first time ever, our Catherine wheel actually worked!

hqdefault

xx

 

 

Genetics Counselling- Stage 1

After we saw the psychiatrist with Max a few months ago and he took a detailed history, he asked if we would like to be referred to genetics.  With every professional we’ve seen over the last year making some comment about my X chromosome we decided to be referred.  We had the appointment a couple of weeks ago with a lovely woman who drew a family tree, took a very detailed history and then explained the options available to us.  I told her about the boys births and how they weren’t textbook which appeared to make no difference really to what she was saying, although her specialty is genetics so why would it?  It seems that it IS my chromosome that has affected the kids, and may have caused miscarriage etc etc but it’s not conclusive………yet!

As a parent I feel guilty anyway, I think it’s part of being  parent anyway but now I feel really crap.  I know logically there’s nothing I could have done differently, no one had mentioned the X factor and I was told there was little risk as I was with a new partner.  But I still feel it’s my fault.  So I had a bit of a wallow for a bit, but then that doesn’t help anyone so what will help?  Well they took a blood sample off Max to run DNA and to check for 66 X chromosome abnormalities- technology has advanced, although they have discounted fragile X.  He was really good giving blood but then I was waving a Mars bar at him for when he was finished.  The geneticist also asked if we wanted to take part in the 100,000 genome study which maps as much as they can at the moment and then more as technology gets better.  It shows like cancer markers and stuff, so we will have to have a session of counselling before signing for that.  They will also compare it to Max’s for now to see if there are any blatant defects.  I’m not explaining it very well am I but there was a lot of information and I’m not remotely scientific.

I know there’s no cure or nothing I can do for my family in the immediate future and the tests may come back with a definitive “yeah, you broke your kids!” which I will have to deal with but it may help other families.  It may help my daughters make informed decisions when it comes to them having children.  So after thinking about it, we’ve decided that if they want us on the study they can have us.  I don’t really like the idea of people having my DNA, I obviously read too many books where people have been set up by the cops, but I feel I should do it.  I am not one for eradication and making perfect humans (eugenics?) but I am for education and informed decisions.  Maybe we can narrow down some diseases and syndromes and find better ways to educate and understand those affected.  I don’t think we should try to eradicate people who are different- where would the world be without those who think differently?  It would be nice though to make life easier for those who are different.

As I get older I realise I don’t know anything.  I have my core values and morals but I find I fluctuate about other stuff so much.  There’s no black or white in so much of life, it’s all shades of grey.  I find that my feelings come second to what I believe is best for my family.  I think, honestly, that if it was up to me I wouldn’t go down the family genetic route but I have to think about everyone.  I love my boys, but it’s hard and personally I wouldn’t not have them in my life (oh that’s bad writing).  If I’d known, I would have had them anyway, because there is so much good too, so much love and you get to share a different world, but it is bloody hard work- not least educating people who have no clue how to treat someone different.  If my daughters don’t want to take the chance of living this life again with their own kids then that is up to them and I fully support them.  Maybe we will get some answers, maybe we won’t but I will always try to make my children’s lives better- all four of them.  Information is never a bad thing, is it?

 

xx

 

First day at nursery school

On Monday, my baby girl started nursery school.  She has gone to a private nursery since she was 18 months but she calls this “nursery school”.  We call it foundation stage 1.  She is in full time eating dinner there and having to wear a “nooniform”. She has been so excited to start, going to her big brothers school.  She has dropped him off and picked him up with me over the last year so has known the teachers and some of the kids already.  The foundation stages, 1 and 2, are in the same unit so some of the children from last year are still there which made her happier.

She had a home visit from Mrs B and Mrs H where we did some paperwork and they played and talked to her.  For someone usually quite shy they brought her out of herself and got her talking.  On her first day she said “I am going to talk to my teachers, I won’t be shy” which was my big worry.  And when I took her in Mrs F asked her if she wanted to play play-doh and she said “no I want the sand please” so I was really happy as I thought she might be a people pleaser and just go along and not cause a fuss.  So I felt a bit better leaving her.

I know she’ll blossom, I know she was ready, but I put on her uniform and wanted to cry.  She looked so grown up.  She’s my baby, sandwiched between two losses and has been my little buddy for the last year, we have done loads together and I find I’m a bit lost without her.  I know I will fill the time but shopping and gardening won’t be the same without her.  Letting her go, knowing she’s my last was harder than I thought it would be and I am a bit sad but I know in my heart it’s right for her.  It’s not about me, it’s about what my beautiful little girl needs to fly!

She came running out of school yesterday and up into my arms babbling away about her day, and her dinner, and her friends and painting which is wonderful for me after having 2 non verbal kids and home school diaries in which to communicate.  She is just so happy, carrying her book bag, showing me her hanging-up-her-coat skills (which she loses once she walks through our front door), discussing her paintings in great details and just talking about her new experiences.  She finds wonder in everything. She had to do a booklet “all about me” to take in on her first day, so did a self portrait

20170907_093133728_iOS

This is her picture of herself.  I think it’s great for a 3 year old, but then I’m biased.

So my baby has taken her first steps into the big world.  My job is to support her and to catch her if she falls, and set her back on her feet.  Right now, I’m looking forward to 3.15pm and getting my big hug and all the day’s news.  Oh and another painting!!

 

xx

Poison- or as I call it, liquid paracetamol

20170831_085057402_iOS

Max is at respite this weekend- he’s gone to the caravan with his lovely other family. As a treat I thought I would book tickets for the zoo for Saturday for the little ones as an end of summer treat.  I should know better than to book anything.  It’s Popples last week at nursery before she starts nursery school in 2 weeks, Oliver is back on Monday- big year 1!  So on Tuesday I get a phone call from nursery saying Popples isn’t well, running a fever and crying.  She’s not a crier.  And she was ok when I dropped her off.  So I went to pick her up and sure enough she is hot as hell.  Great, last week in nursery and she’s going to miss it.  She has recovered well, don’t know what it was, Calpol a cool and soothe on her head, wrapped up on the sofa, lots of sleep and she’s back to her normal self so she can go in and say goodbye (with cake) on Friday.  Huzzah!  I hear you cry.  But wait, not to be outdone by his sister, Olly comes down with the same thing the next day.  Higher temp, floppy, and not wanting anything- I made the mistake of offering him a drink, and got a tearful wobbler for my trouble.

He let me, after a few minutes of persuasion and showing how I do Popples ears, finally take his temperature  and at just over 39 degrees I knew it was time to poison him.  Well if you saw his reaction, the screaming, thrashing, scratching in self defense you would be forgiven for thinking I was trying to kill him, but it is actually strawberry flavoured liquid paracetamol especially designed for children.  Brings down temperatures, and soothes aches and pains.  It comes with an oral syringe for ease.  Yep so easy.  No mess, just squirt (or dribble) into the mouth and most kids swallow it no problem.  Oliver on the other hand, does not care for the syringe, or teaspoon or juice with it hidden in.  Once you have him in position, legs and arms restricted you can actually get the syringe into his mouth.  Now over the years he has developed various techniques for getting it back out and I thought I had got all angles covered.  Yesterday I checked his mouth and could see nothing so thought it had been swallowed.  Silly me.  Of course he hadn’t, he’d somehow stored it in his throat and when I released him it got sprayed (literally) everywhere.  I’d seen him swallow so don’t know how he’d done it.  It is also the stickiest substance known to man, which is really great when me, him the sofa has been sprayed with the stuff.  Anyway after much sweating, and soothing words and restricted limbs, I managed to get some into him, and his temp did come down.  I also had to ask his dad to pick up another bottle on his way home from work- we buy generic now at half the price.

So he has his favourite dvd’s in a pile and  is sat under the “poorly blanket”.  It’s almost time for the next dose, and I hate it.  I hate that I can’t explain it will make him feel better, I hate that he won’t look at me afterwards, I hate that he runs away shouting “no mummy”.  I hope that he will one day understand, Max took years to understand “much better” but now he does I can dress wounds, give him meds and apply creams to his eczema.  I’m hoping he is well enough for the zoo and well enough for his new term.  His immune system is not as robust as his sisters and the lack of sleep doesn’t help either.  I don’t know if offering a smoothie after his poison is just asking for trouble.  Ah well I like to live dangerously!!  Medicine time- I just hope the neighbours don’t call social services 😉

 

xx

Summer Holidays- week 5 of 6

20170820_132358808_iOS

 

Yes we have made it week 5 relatively unscathed.  Uniforms all bought and nearly all labelled just need a pump bag for Popples and I’m done.

To be honest I was dreading the big summer break, 3 kids at home apart from her three sessions at nursery and at first it did not look like it would go well.  The boys are usually out at school or placement so Miss P usually has me to herself during the day.  “You’re my mummy!” has been heard regularly for the first two weeks and I’ve had to explain that I’m everyone’s mummy even Emily’s even though she doesn’t live with us anymore.  For a just turned 3 year old this concept has been hard to grasp but we have persevered and there’s no more griping, as everyone gets mummy time and everyone gets daddy time as well as all time together.  The sharing of toys has also been tricky with many arguments turning into fisticuffs.  For a tiny person, Popples can certainly hold her own.  “That’s not nice.  Let’s share. No fighting. There’s enough for everyone”- honestly got sick of the sound of my own voice!  When it comes to sharing food, no one has a problem everything is distributed fairly with no complaining or hogging.

I also decided this summer to give everyone a break from hard learning.  The speech therapist, Vicki, has discussed with me how Oliver takes time to process things and should be given time when the pressure is off to just kind of make sense of things. So we went back to mainly play based learning, taking turns, colours, numbers letters- etc. Still learning but not at a desk with a pencil and work sheets.  I can not believe the progress they have made.  My non verbal Oliver has not shut up!  We bought Sing! for them and Secret life of pets a while ago and these have been great for both of them.  Oliver made a stage and microphone out of stickle bricks and was singing proper words to proper songs  When he wants to watch it he comes up to me and says “shake it off  shake it off” which is what the pigs sing “piggy power”.  His negatives have improved but Vicki said that’s usual as he is more motivated to declare his objection to something “no more bed time” “no more car” “leave me alone”  but he has also started verbally requesting things “more juice. Want crisps. breakfast now” and telling me just things “bumped head. it’s raining”.  Now for a child who had 20 words at best before the summer, well I’m impressed.  But what made me really proud was yesterday and him voluntarily sharing.  They have a set of secret life of pets figures each, just little ones that were about 2 quid a set from ebay and they love them.  Usually they still fight over them but Oliver split them into two piles and then came over to Popples and said “Peppy’s” (he has always called her Peppy) and then when he found another 2 Gidgets in his set he brought her one.  Obviously I then text and told everyone I knew what he’d done- I was so proud!

I think the turning point in their relationship was when it was raining hard the other week. The weather is not great in the summer holidays- it’s like the universe wants to see who’ll go crazy first.  They’d had enough of staying in so I ran them a bath and opened the back door. There was a huge muddy puddle in the border I hadn’t finished planting in and they both dived in running up and down, screaming and laughing, in the pouring rain, getting wet through and muddy head to toe. I’d done the bath so when they came in they were warmed straight away and into warm clothes- last thing we need is poorly!  Now Oliver joins in when we play chasing, obstacle course, racing, and everything.  He was the monster yesterday so put his Gruffalo gloves on (they are like claws) and chased “Peppy” round the garden shouting “Raaaaaahhh!” and attempting to tickle when he caught her.

We have a week and a bit to go before Oliver goes back to school and I’m worried he may lose his speech?  It’s busy at school and he doesn’t have much confidence in his voice yet- he’s only just found it.  But I’m going to put that aside and enjoy what I have right now.  I’ve heard her helping him with his words and I’ve seen him helping her with her confidence in climbing.  Maybe it’s the start of a beautiful relationship, best friends.

20170809_162954083_iOS

xx