Miss Mali is eleven months old today. Sweet baby!
10.26.2005
Vomit Score
Iz is winning. She vomited every 15 minutes from 9:00 to 3:00. Seymour, again, kindly tended to her by making her a little puking nest on the floor next to his side of the bed, complete with a barf bowl that she cradled all night long.
Mali, though only having puked three times, makes up for lack of iterations with volume. That baby can heave with the pros. Thankfully her tummy makes strange, loud plumbing noises beforehand so there's plenty of time to run her to and hold her over the sink. Nothing but net!
Sick babies sleep a lot, and I bribed Iz with Akik0 #4, so I have time to be merrily packing away. We ARE leaving tonight.
Leelo is having a great morning. I am keeping him home from school, but Therapist L said she was willing to work with him if I put out hand sanitizer. Our boy spontaneously, and from out of thin air told Therapist L "triangle has 3 sides!" and then put a puzzle piece 3 on top of said triangle. None of this had been practiced, prepped, or prompted. Go Leelo!
Iz is winning. She vomited every 15 minutes from 9:00 to 3:00. Seymour, again, kindly tended to her by making her a little puking nest on the floor next to his side of the bed, complete with a barf bowl that she cradled all night long.
Mali, though only having puked three times, makes up for lack of iterations with volume. That baby can heave with the pros. Thankfully her tummy makes strange, loud plumbing noises beforehand so there's plenty of time to run her to and hold her over the sink. Nothing but net!
Sick babies sleep a lot, and I bribed Iz with Akik0 #4, so I have time to be merrily packing away. We ARE leaving tonight.
Leelo is having a great morning. I am keeping him home from school, but Therapist L said she was willing to work with him if I put out hand sanitizer. Our boy spontaneously, and from out of thin air told Therapist L "triangle has 3 sides!" and then put a puzzle piece 3 on top of said triangle. None of this had been practiced, prepped, or prompted. Go Leelo!
10.25.2005
Griping, Now With Vomit
I hadn't yet descended from the stress balloon of the past two weeks when Leelo started vomiting yesterday morning. If my mom hadn't been here to watch him I'd have had to cancel my Iron Gate shift, without trade or makeup options, ensuring the enmity of those otherwise tolerant parents. Bless my mom!
As it is I probably peppered the Iron Gate kiddlings to whom I served snack yesterday with vomit viruses, as both Mali and Iz started hurling this evening. My girls let loose after I'd tearily shuttled my mom to the airport, after their evening baths, and just as I was starting to think how lovely an evening of relatively unstructured puttering would be.
This makes me worry about tomorrow evening's trip to Atlanta to visit Dee and Giddy. We've been planning this trip, in which all our girls get to meet each other for the first time (well, third time for Iz and E, first for the other three), for six months. Goddammit. And it's a free trip, too: air miles tickets, D's cars and beds. Do you think the people in first class will be relaxed enough to overlook fountains of barf? Maybe they'll sleep through it as it is a red eye flight. Which reminds me that I've yet to practice tethering Mali to my side with the sling so we can both sleep en route.
Please. Cross. Fingers. For. Us. If I have to miss this trip my sorrow will be insurmountable.
Ooh, Iz just sat up and barfed again! Seymour took that one, bless him. And he's completely stressed out from his own crappy work crap, and really should be sitting back on a soft couch getting his, erm, feet massaged and watching endless Tour de France videos.
Short kid notes:
Iz finished HP6. You can all now talk with her freely about any theories you choose. She is also compulsively reading and re-reading the Franny K. Steiin books recommended by Badger. She recently confessed to Seymour that she is interested in 1000+ page books not just for the show-off value but also because they last longer and she doesn't want them to end. That's my girl. I have slipped her Swa11ows and Amazons, as the series exceeds her required page count.
Leelo is not at his best when he's sick, but still his various therapists can see his progress through the scattered behaviors. Usually he reverts to non-verbal fussing and withdrawing during these times, this time he is telling us exactly why he's upset, why he's not complying. Plus, Supervisor M had this to say about him today (she left before he started barfing again and I had to pluck him from class):
Those past two weeks are not even properly documented. I've five or seven half-finished relevant posts in the Draft pile. Things are so looped that the office is trashed yet again, I've not even met Godmother Stacy's new little bairns, and we've yet to give Tia Isabel our condolences over her son Rick's passing last week. Somehow we must curtail activities to make life more manageable during the upcoming holidaze.
I hadn't yet descended from the stress balloon of the past two weeks when Leelo started vomiting yesterday morning. If my mom hadn't been here to watch him I'd have had to cancel my Iron Gate shift, without trade or makeup options, ensuring the enmity of those otherwise tolerant parents. Bless my mom!
As it is I probably peppered the Iron Gate kiddlings to whom I served snack yesterday with vomit viruses, as both Mali and Iz started hurling this evening. My girls let loose after I'd tearily shuttled my mom to the airport, after their evening baths, and just as I was starting to think how lovely an evening of relatively unstructured puttering would be.
This makes me worry about tomorrow evening's trip to Atlanta to visit Dee and Giddy. We've been planning this trip, in which all our girls get to meet each other for the first time (well, third time for Iz and E, first for the other three), for six months. Goddammit. And it's a free trip, too: air miles tickets, D's cars and beds. Do you think the people in first class will be relaxed enough to overlook fountains of barf? Maybe they'll sleep through it as it is a red eye flight. Which reminds me that I've yet to practice tethering Mali to my side with the sling so we can both sleep en route.
Please. Cross. Fingers. For. Us. If I have to miss this trip my sorrow will be insurmountable.
Ooh, Iz just sat up and barfed again! Seymour took that one, bless him. And he's completely stressed out from his own crappy work crap, and really should be sitting back on a soft couch getting his, erm, feet massaged and watching endless Tour de France videos.
Short kid notes:
Iz finished HP6. You can all now talk with her freely about any theories you choose. She is also compulsively reading and re-reading the Franny K. Steiin books recommended by Badger. She recently confessed to Seymour that she is interested in 1000+ page books not just for the show-off value but also because they last longer and she doesn't want them to end. That's my girl. I have slipped her Swa11ows and Amazons, as the series exceeds her required page count.
Leelo is not at his best when he's sick, but still his various therapists can see his progress through the scattered behaviors. Usually he reverts to non-verbal fussing and withdrawing during these times, this time he is telling us exactly why he's upset, why he's not complying. Plus, Supervisor M had this to say about him today (she left before he started barfing again and I had to pluck him from class):
Leelo seemed so centered and relaxed at IG today. Teacher P thought he had the best small group ever (me too)- it was number recognition and counting, and he really was able to participate at his learning level in the whole activity. Plus, he just seemed calm and content within his body. So nice to see :)Mali is the funniest, cutest, sweetest, smartest, and smiliest baby ever. She does the Rosenberg W sit already, and she plays a mean game of peekaboo with any fabric piece she can find. She still won't take a lovey; why should she when mommy sports the two best ones imaginable? Wonderful baby.
Those past two weeks are not even properly documented. I've five or seven half-finished relevant posts in the Draft pile. Things are so looped that the office is trashed yet again, I've not even met Godmother Stacy's new little bairns, and we've yet to give Tia Isabel our condolences over her son Rick's passing last week. Somehow we must curtail activities to make life more manageable during the upcoming holidaze.
10.24.2005
10.21.2005
Scroogey Grinch
I am sitting here surrounded by piles of crap, realizing that I am starting to stress over all the piles of crap I routinely begin to purchase, organize, wrap, and mail each year at this time (fun though this is), and the piles of thoughtful crap we receive each year that, truly, we appreciate but don't need.
So, after Seymour reads this entry and we discuss it because that is how we do most of our communicating these crazy days, I am going to send out an email to all friends and family--grandparents excepted--letting them know that we've greatly reduced interest in sending or receiving Xmas presents this year. We will make donations in their name, in the amounts we would have spent, instead, and we would be grateful if they would redirect any Rosenberg-dedicated gift funds in the same manner.
Unless they or we find something Just Perfect. That is different.
But, truly, my stress level is soap-bubble precarious at the moment. The normal joyfulness of receiving a package--any package--gets completely overshadowed by the stress of having to find the time to open it, decide what to do with the box, divvy up its contents, put paper in the recyclable bin, wrapping paper in wrapping paper storage, peanuts and puffy bits to a big bag in the corner of the office, plastic bags and parts and even more interior boxes to be broken down and put in the trash/recycled/stored, (and God help you if you send my kids any toy in a molded plastic case to which it is attached by 500 twisty ties and cardboard anchors) and then consider the present itself which more than likely is something we adore but don't have space for in our overstuffed home. The process drains me. Completely.
If can get most people to abandon this tradition then I will also feel less guilt about the thank you notes I stopped writing once Mali arrived.
And just in case you are reading this and sniffing at me: yes, I know I am beyond overprivileged. It doesn't mean my life isn't difficult, and that little things don't push me over the edge.
I am sitting here surrounded by piles of crap, realizing that I am starting to stress over all the piles of crap I routinely begin to purchase, organize, wrap, and mail each year at this time (fun though this is), and the piles of thoughtful crap we receive each year that, truly, we appreciate but don't need.
So, after Seymour reads this entry and we discuss it because that is how we do most of our communicating these crazy days, I am going to send out an email to all friends and family--grandparents excepted--letting them know that we've greatly reduced interest in sending or receiving Xmas presents this year. We will make donations in their name, in the amounts we would have spent, instead, and we would be grateful if they would redirect any Rosenberg-dedicated gift funds in the same manner.
Unless they or we find something Just Perfect. That is different.
But, truly, my stress level is soap-bubble precarious at the moment. The normal joyfulness of receiving a package--any package--gets completely overshadowed by the stress of having to find the time to open it, decide what to do with the box, divvy up its contents, put paper in the recyclable bin, wrapping paper in wrapping paper storage, peanuts and puffy bits to a big bag in the corner of the office, plastic bags and parts and even more interior boxes to be broken down and put in the trash/recycled/stored, (and God help you if you send my kids any toy in a molded plastic case to which it is attached by 500 twisty ties and cardboard anchors) and then consider the present itself which more than likely is something we adore but don't have space for in our overstuffed home. The process drains me. Completely.
If can get most people to abandon this tradition then I will also feel less guilt about the thank you notes I stopped writing once Mali arrived.
And just in case you are reading this and sniffing at me: yes, I know I am beyond overprivileged. It doesn't mean my life isn't difficult, and that little things don't push me over the edge.
My Baby Is So F***ing Cute That...
She pierced the armor of the sullen goth drug store cashier, who couldn't help but beam a big, sincere smile right back at super-friendly Miss Mali.
Goth girl self-corrected immediately upon realizing that she'd outed herself, mumbling and sulking during her entire exchange with me. But, heh heh heh.
She pierced the armor of the sullen goth drug store cashier, who couldn't help but beam a big, sincere smile right back at super-friendly Miss Mali.
Goth girl self-corrected immediately upon realizing that she'd outed herself, mumbling and sulking during her entire exchange with me. But, heh heh heh.
10.20.2005
Looong day
Seymour leetin gme sleep in on cal train day
Found evidence that leelo had poured himself some rice milk for first time
sitting there putting together two puzzles at once
such fantastic rhythm and pitch, singing songs cements his eye contact
gas station for gas, no cash wtf do they bohter?
Leelo with therapist F, frantic bath with Mali on floor
Ran off to Irish builders, she kicked ass:
-Woman run, so I won't be treated like an idiot unless I deserve it
-Experience building in Saint Matthew's county
-Reputation for being on time on budget
-Mid-size company, not so big we'll get lost, but if someone drops out they've got a "whole team of quarterbacks"
-totally green, the largest green-building trained construction co in the bay area
-Excited about our project and architects
-down with the NSB house idea (spend on comfort, design, and details, not square footage)
-though I must say it is odd that both the architect and builders we are talking to are sniffing at our budget a bit, saying that we'll be cutting it close. I thought our budget would build us a monster if that was our choice.
Able to make part of Bad Moms coffee, Scarlett showed up for the first time in a while, JP told us of her own intense post-partum depression episode following the birth of her second child. I had heard that she had had a bad time, but hadn't known how bad things were. Since my mom's family (which she married into) tend towards manic overachieving, they didn't quite get what to do with or about her. Though I know that during that time my auntie F (her mother-in-law) spent every Tuesday with her and the kids.
I asked Scarlett and JP if they had ever reached their limit at Iron Gate, if they had ever just wanted to walk away from the constant work and time demands (Jo: "I'm sick of it and my kids never even went there!"). Scarlett and JP laughed. I said I was f***ing sick of working in the class. Which I had to do in 90 minutes.
Ran home to Leelo, fed him and Mali lunch and packed their bags for my Iron Gate work day.
Off to Iron Gate. Where Leelo seemed extra-loopy as he has for a while. It wasn't as bad as I'd been anticipating, as I was working in the Back Room where the children not only get to be self-directed in their play, but in which they have to clean up after themselves.
Halfway through, Teacher P asked me to read a book about a boy with autism and his sister, to see if it would be a good book to read to the class in an upcoming circle time focus on differences in general and specific Leelo differences (the kids are really starting to notice that he is not One of Them). I burst into tears while reading the book, as it was about a big sister being left in charge of her ASD brother and so much like the Iz/Leelo dynamic or what I imagine it will be in the future. Teacher P looked mortified and let me go weep in the corner for a while.
0------------
There was more but this draft is almost a month old so I'm publishing the fucker anyhow.
Seymour leetin gme sleep in on cal train day
Found evidence that leelo had poured himself some rice milk for first time
sitting there putting together two puzzles at once
such fantastic rhythm and pitch, singing songs cements his eye contact
gas station for gas, no cash wtf do they bohter?
Leelo with therapist F, frantic bath with Mali on floor
Ran off to Irish builders, she kicked ass:
-Woman run, so I won't be treated like an idiot unless I deserve it
-Experience building in Saint Matthew's county
-Reputation for being on time on budget
-Mid-size company, not so big we'll get lost, but if someone drops out they've got a "whole team of quarterbacks"
-totally green, the largest green-building trained construction co in the bay area
-Excited about our project and architects
-down with the NSB house idea (spend on comfort, design, and details, not square footage)
-though I must say it is odd that both the architect and builders we are talking to are sniffing at our budget a bit, saying that we'll be cutting it close. I thought our budget would build us a monster if that was our choice.
Able to make part of Bad Moms coffee, Scarlett showed up for the first time in a while, JP told us of her own intense post-partum depression episode following the birth of her second child. I had heard that she had had a bad time, but hadn't known how bad things were. Since my mom's family (which she married into) tend towards manic overachieving, they didn't quite get what to do with or about her. Though I know that during that time my auntie F (her mother-in-law) spent every Tuesday with her and the kids.
I asked Scarlett and JP if they had ever reached their limit at Iron Gate, if they had ever just wanted to walk away from the constant work and time demands (Jo: "I'm sick of it and my kids never even went there!"). Scarlett and JP laughed. I said I was f***ing sick of working in the class. Which I had to do in 90 minutes.
Ran home to Leelo, fed him and Mali lunch and packed their bags for my Iron Gate work day.
Off to Iron Gate. Where Leelo seemed extra-loopy as he has for a while. It wasn't as bad as I'd been anticipating, as I was working in the Back Room where the children not only get to be self-directed in their play, but in which they have to clean up after themselves.
Halfway through, Teacher P asked me to read a book about a boy with autism and his sister, to see if it would be a good book to read to the class in an upcoming circle time focus on differences in general and specific Leelo differences (the kids are really starting to notice that he is not One of Them). I burst into tears while reading the book, as it was about a big sister being left in charge of her ASD brother and so much like the Iz/Leelo dynamic or what I imagine it will be in the future. Teacher P looked mortified and let me go weep in the corner for a while.
0------------
There was more but this draft is almost a month old so I'm publishing the fucker anyhow.
Diversion
Mali has suddenly sprouted four more teeth, two sets of bookends for her existing set of four. (Two top, two bottom.)
We have decided that her nickname is "Trouble." For instance, she will no longer sit down in her bath or in her high chair. She stands in both and so far can escape all variations of the latter.
The best way to prevent her from crawling up the stairs is to put a dress on her. She is extra cute when she's girly yet pissed off.
Tonight she she playfully lunged for my (fully covered) bosom with an open mouth and a growl, which made me laugh. Which then made her laugh, so she did it again. And again. And again. Purposeful, interactive play! Love it.
Mali has suddenly sprouted four more teeth, two sets of bookends for her existing set of four. (Two top, two bottom.)
We have decided that her nickname is "Trouble." For instance, she will no longer sit down in her bath or in her high chair. She stands in both and so far can escape all variations of the latter.
The best way to prevent her from crawling up the stairs is to put a dress on her. She is extra cute when she's girly yet pissed off.
Tonight she she playfully lunged for my (fully covered) bosom with an open mouth and a growl, which made me laugh. Which then made her laugh, so she did it again. And again. And again. Purposeful, interactive play! Love it.
10.19.2005
Talk Is Good, Tact Is Even Better (More About Kat)
Last night I talked with Celia for a bit about Kat's suicide. Celia is really traumatized, she saw Kat every day and feels as though she's lost a sister. She feels so badly for Kat's husband and baby girl Sadie; she is trying to present a brave happy front as she babysits Sadie, trying to keep things normal for her.
But Celia is downhearted herself and finds it easier to muster her best cheer outside of Kat's house, away from Kat's photos, away from her things, away from the house where they spent so much time together.
I invited Celia to bring Sadie over for a play date with Mali this afternoon, while Leelo was at school. I opened the door to see Sadie standing there, with her lavender terry jump suit, big Mali-style cheeks, blonde hair, and dark serious eyes. It took all my will power to not snatch her up and squeeze into her all the love and attention I'd have given her mom in an instant, had I known how she needed it. We all would have. I still gave Sadie as much attention as I possibly could, carting her around and describing her environment to her, Badger-style, giving her lots of hugs.
Oh that sweet baby. I still cannot make the logical connection between her tiny little purposeful self and the permanent absence of her mother. Neither can Celia, even as she tells Sadie--as kindly and tenderly as possible--that her mommy won't be coming back. Sadie spent a lot of time not wanting to let go of Celia's skirt.
Mali eventually woke up and eyed Sadie warily, then enthusiastically poked her visitor in the eye and nostril. Since neither of the two has been socialized or spent much time with other babies, Celia and I are going get them together again on Friday, and perhaps weekly on Wednesday mornings. If Celia is kept on as Sadie's nanny.
Celia just needed to talk, that is how she processes. Mostly she is wondering what else she could have done. Kat was open about the fact that she was having a rough time, but she also told Celia that she was seeking proper treatment. Celia said she was concerned, but she really didn't see any significant change in Kat's behavior. Even so, she is going to beat herself up about this indefinitely, as she is too sensitive to operate any other way.
We are all full of what ifs, shock, and confusion. Ep saw Kat more than any of the rest of us, as she would occasionally drop by for daytime visits with Celia, and Kat would often be there. She is especially shocked that Kat did something so irrational, as she considered her to be one of the most logical and rational people she knew. Positively Spock-like, she said.
Celia said that Kat didn't really have any local friends to talk to, that she knew of. Celia tried to get Kat to go to our weekly bad moms coffee, several times, but Kat just couldn't do it. I felt like I'd been stabbed when she told me this. What would it have taken to encorage Kat to come? A mere one-line email? A phone call? Would feeling as though she had a place in our group been enough? Did our close-knittedness feel exclusionary? Another opportunity for endless-loop fretting.
Another thing Celia said is that Kat's husband doesn't want the facts of her death hushed up, in fact he wants it discussed in case that will help another severe depressive seek help. Specifics will probably be mentioned during the service tomorrow. We bad moms will be arriving together, armed with kleenex.
I had never been to a Deadwood funeral before this month, now Ep and I will have gone to two in little more than two weeks.
I can't stop thinking about Kat, and am dealing by keeping as busy as possible. Meals to four families, two tonight and two Friday. Seymour is being patient as I make like a dervish.
On the way home from delivering the meals and picking Seymour up from the CalTrain station, my cel phone rang and displayed Seymour's parents' number. I had a bad feeling and asked Seymour to take the call.
Turns out Seymour's cousin Rick had passed away. He had been sick for a long time, and in fact had been in a coma while we celebrated his niece's wedding this past weekend. So while it was not a surprise, it was still a blow. He was a sweet, loving man and we will all miss him
I was so very glad that Iz isn't here during all this, because she really got on well with Rick. Plus she finds the deaths of people she knows so disturbing that she pleads with us to not mention their names ever again. I figured I could break it to her slowly and gently.
I hadn't counted on my mom's underestimation of Iz's eavesdropping skills. I called my mother to tell her about Rick, and ended up telling her about Kat as well, how she was not able to overcome her post-partum depression, how she ended up jumping off the GG Bridge. My mom then handed the phone to Iz, who had apparently been in the room with my mom the whole time.
Iz: "Mommy, what is this sad thing that happened?"
Me: "Well, sweetie, cousin Rick died yesterday. He was very sick and he didn't get better. Are you okay?"
Iz: **whimper** (She loved Rick.) Then,
"Mommy, Grandma said something else, about someone jumping off the GG Bridge. Who was that?"
***FUCK!***
Me: "Well, Iz, you know the lady Celia nannies for? She was very, very sad. She had a problem with the chemicals in her brain, and they wouldn't let her be happy. She tried to get help, but she thought she couldn't make herself better, and so she jumped off the bridge. I promise I will never, ever do that, because my brain isn't like that. I promise. Do you understand? Do you understand how much I love you and that my brain is okay and so I couldn't ever do that?"
Iz, distressed: "Mommy, we met Kat at the park, with Celia and Sadie. I met her!"
Me: "I didn't know that, Iz. Are you going to be okay?"
Iz, still distressed: "Mommy, I don't want to talk about this anymore, okay? Please?"
Me: "No problem, but let me know if you change your mind. I love you very much."
Nice one, Grandma! FUCK. FUCK.
Last night I talked with Celia for a bit about Kat's suicide. Celia is really traumatized, she saw Kat every day and feels as though she's lost a sister. She feels so badly for Kat's husband and baby girl Sadie; she is trying to present a brave happy front as she babysits Sadie, trying to keep things normal for her.
But Celia is downhearted herself and finds it easier to muster her best cheer outside of Kat's house, away from Kat's photos, away from her things, away from the house where they spent so much time together.
I invited Celia to bring Sadie over for a play date with Mali this afternoon, while Leelo was at school. I opened the door to see Sadie standing there, with her lavender terry jump suit, big Mali-style cheeks, blonde hair, and dark serious eyes. It took all my will power to not snatch her up and squeeze into her all the love and attention I'd have given her mom in an instant, had I known how she needed it. We all would have. I still gave Sadie as much attention as I possibly could, carting her around and describing her environment to her, Badger-style, giving her lots of hugs.
Oh that sweet baby. I still cannot make the logical connection between her tiny little purposeful self and the permanent absence of her mother. Neither can Celia, even as she tells Sadie--as kindly and tenderly as possible--that her mommy won't be coming back. Sadie spent a lot of time not wanting to let go of Celia's skirt.
Mali eventually woke up and eyed Sadie warily, then enthusiastically poked her visitor in the eye and nostril. Since neither of the two has been socialized or spent much time with other babies, Celia and I are going get them together again on Friday, and perhaps weekly on Wednesday mornings. If Celia is kept on as Sadie's nanny.
Celia just needed to talk, that is how she processes. Mostly she is wondering what else she could have done. Kat was open about the fact that she was having a rough time, but she also told Celia that she was seeking proper treatment. Celia said she was concerned, but she really didn't see any significant change in Kat's behavior. Even so, she is going to beat herself up about this indefinitely, as she is too sensitive to operate any other way.
We are all full of what ifs, shock, and confusion. Ep saw Kat more than any of the rest of us, as she would occasionally drop by for daytime visits with Celia, and Kat would often be there. She is especially shocked that Kat did something so irrational, as she considered her to be one of the most logical and rational people she knew. Positively Spock-like, she said.
Celia said that Kat didn't really have any local friends to talk to, that she knew of. Celia tried to get Kat to go to our weekly bad moms coffee, several times, but Kat just couldn't do it. I felt like I'd been stabbed when she told me this. What would it have taken to encorage Kat to come? A mere one-line email? A phone call? Would feeling as though she had a place in our group been enough? Did our close-knittedness feel exclusionary? Another opportunity for endless-loop fretting.
Another thing Celia said is that Kat's husband doesn't want the facts of her death hushed up, in fact he wants it discussed in case that will help another severe depressive seek help. Specifics will probably be mentioned during the service tomorrow. We bad moms will be arriving together, armed with kleenex.
I had never been to a Deadwood funeral before this month, now Ep and I will have gone to two in little more than two weeks.
I can't stop thinking about Kat, and am dealing by keeping as busy as possible. Meals to four families, two tonight and two Friday. Seymour is being patient as I make like a dervish.
On the way home from delivering the meals and picking Seymour up from the CalTrain station, my cel phone rang and displayed Seymour's parents' number. I had a bad feeling and asked Seymour to take the call.
Turns out Seymour's cousin Rick had passed away. He had been sick for a long time, and in fact had been in a coma while we celebrated his niece's wedding this past weekend. So while it was not a surprise, it was still a blow. He was a sweet, loving man and we will all miss him
I was so very glad that Iz isn't here during all this, because she really got on well with Rick. Plus she finds the deaths of people she knows so disturbing that she pleads with us to not mention their names ever again. I figured I could break it to her slowly and gently.
I hadn't counted on my mom's underestimation of Iz's eavesdropping skills. I called my mother to tell her about Rick, and ended up telling her about Kat as well, how she was not able to overcome her post-partum depression, how she ended up jumping off the GG Bridge. My mom then handed the phone to Iz, who had apparently been in the room with my mom the whole time.
Iz: "Mommy, what is this sad thing that happened?"
Me: "Well, sweetie, cousin Rick died yesterday. He was very sick and he didn't get better. Are you okay?"
Iz: **whimper** (She loved Rick.) Then,
"Mommy, Grandma said something else, about someone jumping off the GG Bridge. Who was that?"
***FUCK!***
Me: "Well, Iz, you know the lady Celia nannies for? She was very, very sad. She had a problem with the chemicals in her brain, and they wouldn't let her be happy. She tried to get help, but she thought she couldn't make herself better, and so she jumped off the bridge. I promise I will never, ever do that, because my brain isn't like that. I promise. Do you understand? Do you understand how much I love you and that my brain is okay and so I couldn't ever do that?"
Iz, distressed: "Mommy, we met Kat at the park, with Celia and Sadie. I met her!"
Me: "I didn't know that, Iz. Are you going to be okay?"
Iz, still distressed: "Mommy, I don't want to talk about this anymore, okay? Please?"
Me: "No problem, but let me know if you change your mind. I love you very much."
Nice one, Grandma! FUCK. FUCK.
Leelo's Yearly Program Evaluation: Quick Notes
Today Supervisor Andil and Supervisor M joined Seymour and me to discuss Leelo's status. I am going to write quick notes only because Mali will probably wake up soon and realize I am not in bed yet and start the howling that only a boob stuffed in her mouth can quiet.
All in all we are all pleased. Yay. Seymour and I said that we are only interested in the best place for Leelo, in the education that will help him gain skills in an enriching setting. We don't give a shit about putting him in a regular classroom if that's not what he needs.
We also mentioned that we are both feeling optimistic and hopeful about Leelo's future and potential. (Seymour told me this spontaneously over the weekend; I was pleased because I'd been feeling the same way.) Leelo may never be a typical boy, but we don't care as long as he's happy. This is a big change from last year when we were both fairly morose about Leelo's outlook.
Andil and M say:
Leelo is seeing people as a reinforcers, he enjoys them, his social skills are good and will get better. This can't be taught, really. Excellent news.
His actions such as asking and going looking for a towel when he spills something, and then wiping up the mess himself, shows that he is developing problem-solving skills. Also good, hard to teach.
An all-autism class is not a great place in which to develop Leelo's budding social skills; if we were to consider such a class for Leelo next year then we would have to be judicious in setting up facilitated playgroups outside of class.
Iron Gate has minimal structure which is hard for Leelo. Supervisor M thinks it is a wondeful environment for Leelo, though. I mentioned that it really sucked for me to work in the classroom and go to the classes as I am constantly barraged with Typical Four-Year-Oldness, but that if she thinks it is helping Leelo then I will do whatever it takes. At any rate Kindergarten will be much more structured and he might find it easier.
However Leelo's activity level and vocal stimming may interfere with classroom inclusion, even in a special day class. We should investigate (not choose, investigate) medication options. We should ask the Stafnord clinic folks, the MD at the UCCSF clinic.
Inclusion means that his base is in a typical classroom (with or without aide) and that he will be pulled out for therapeutic activities such as OT, etc.
Mainstreaming means that his base is in a special day class and that he will be pulled into the typical classroom for certain periods of the day.
M showed us a list of skills children need to have for classroom inclusion. The list was long, and Leelo has mastered few items on it (being able to wait in line, raise hand to ask questions, sustain short conversations, etc.). Kindergarten is a year away, though, and we all agreed that a lot can happen in a year.
And so much more. Basically we are pleased with Leelo's program, they are pleased with the progress he's made over the last year especially given that the major disruptions of a new baby sister and his senior therapist (F) leaving.
I hope Supervisor M will have written up a superior, detailed summary.
Here is my to-do list as assigned over the meeting's course:
Today Supervisor Andil and Supervisor M joined Seymour and me to discuss Leelo's status. I am going to write quick notes only because Mali will probably wake up soon and realize I am not in bed yet and start the howling that only a boob stuffed in her mouth can quiet.
All in all we are all pleased. Yay. Seymour and I said that we are only interested in the best place for Leelo, in the education that will help him gain skills in an enriching setting. We don't give a shit about putting him in a regular classroom if that's not what he needs.
We also mentioned that we are both feeling optimistic and hopeful about Leelo's future and potential. (Seymour told me this spontaneously over the weekend; I was pleased because I'd been feeling the same way.) Leelo may never be a typical boy, but we don't care as long as he's happy. This is a big change from last year when we were both fairly morose about Leelo's outlook.
Andil and M say:
Leelo is seeing people as a reinforcers, he enjoys them, his social skills are good and will get better. This can't be taught, really. Excellent news.
His actions such as asking and going looking for a towel when he spills something, and then wiping up the mess himself, shows that he is developing problem-solving skills. Also good, hard to teach.
An all-autism class is not a great place in which to develop Leelo's budding social skills; if we were to consider such a class for Leelo next year then we would have to be judicious in setting up facilitated playgroups outside of class.
Iron Gate has minimal structure which is hard for Leelo. Supervisor M thinks it is a wondeful environment for Leelo, though. I mentioned that it really sucked for me to work in the classroom and go to the classes as I am constantly barraged with Typical Four-Year-Oldness, but that if she thinks it is helping Leelo then I will do whatever it takes. At any rate Kindergarten will be much more structured and he might find it easier.
However Leelo's activity level and vocal stimming may interfere with classroom inclusion, even in a special day class. We should investigate (not choose, investigate) medication options. We should ask the Stafnord clinic folks, the MD at the UCCSF clinic.
Inclusion means that his base is in a typical classroom (with or without aide) and that he will be pulled out for therapeutic activities such as OT, etc.
Mainstreaming means that his base is in a special day class and that he will be pulled into the typical classroom for certain periods of the day.
M showed us a list of skills children need to have for classroom inclusion. The list was long, and Leelo has mastered few items on it (being able to wait in line, raise hand to ask questions, sustain short conversations, etc.). Kindergarten is a year away, though, and we all agreed that a lot can happen in a year.
And so much more. Basically we are pleased with Leelo's program, they are pleased with the progress he's made over the last year especially given that the major disruptions of a new baby sister and his senior therapist (F) leaving.
I hope Supervisor M will have written up a superior, detailed summary.
Here is my to-do list as assigned over the meeting's course:
- Ask JM about Dr. Go1dberg. Andil thinks JM might know about him, also he was cited specifically by Christina Adams (A Rea1 Boy) as being a pivotal part of her son's recovery.
- Visit Wings school in San Mate0, find out about their inclusion components.
- Visit Day Classes in Deadwood public schools. Find out if they do inclusion or mainstreaming.
- Talk to parents who've had kids in classes around the school district, who is good, who is not.
- Set up Leelo's first IEP/intake with Deadwood school district. How? Perhaps Sage will know?
- Call Stafnord and set up Leelo's follow-up evaluation (initial evaluation was March 2003, they asked us to bring him back in two years). Part of eval will be to ask about meds.
- Call G1enn E11iott, MD at UCCSF and expert in fine-tuning meds for autistic kids. Get on potentially six-month-long wait list, anyhow. If Stafnord answers meds questions can always cancel E11iott appointment.
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