I am rearranging Tuesdays. I can't take them the way they are, coming on the heels of Mondays, which have me at Leelo's furthest-reaches-of-town OT at 8:00, and peak with me
Changes: Iz and Sophie's yoga is over, so that errand can be eliminated. Jo said I could pick up Sophie from school on Fridays instead. I will be asking Sage if she can pick up Leelo from Iron Gate on Tuesdays instead of Wednesdays, and Therapist Y if he can put in a Tuesday 8:30 - 10:00 shift (he doesn't currently have an in-home therapy shift with Leelo). The modifications should result in a day that is smooth yet bracing, sort of like aged St. Marce11in cheese.
This last Tuesday knocked me straight on my ass. I think it would have sucked anyhow, but it wasn't helped by my thinking I could take Leelo in for a "quick blood draw" to get the titers his pediatrician had ordered in lieu of vaccine boosters. I even warned the phlebotomists ahead of time that they needed to be quicker than quick, yet they didn't start organizing all their little bottles until Leelo was in my lap in the phlebotomy torture chair and already starting to freak. They only managed to get half the blood they needed before he wiggled out of my grip and (avert your eyes) pulled out his fucking needle.
In not-so-gross news, I've talked with several of Leelo's therapists about his words & music singing disconnect, and they are thinking that 1) He's just not there yet (able to combine music and words) and 2) It wouldn't hurt to put him in a music class. The director of Mali's music program is one of my Iron Gate homies, and Leelo just loves the class's music CD, so I will ask said homie if she runs classes for younger-thinking kids like my boy. I don't want him accidentally crushing any mewly little babies or toddlers.
It is of course far more common for autistic kids to sing songs but not produce regular speech. When I mentioned this to Therapist A (ST), she said, "Of course! That's our Leelo."
In other exciting news, Iz came home sick again today, having barfed all over HP5. Like last time, she was fine once she got home. No OJ for breakfast this morning, but much talk about how much she wishes she had a less strict teacher. I wonder if she's learned how to barf at will, like the little sister in a book I read long ago, who also got a home beauty kit that she used to color her hair mercurochrome red. I believe there was an older brother, and a dog, and a divorce. Maybe it was the dog who barfed on cue. Regardless, a useful skill.
Mali has learned to climb. Stairs, storage chests (via step stool), etc. More diligence will be needed from me, as she has absolutely no sense at all.