Fringe Dwellers we are

He's a tricky customer, that Beaver boy. We recently took him for a psychometric assessment a couple of weeks ago. You know, kind of an IQ test. We're not so much interested in his IQ as trying to find out how the boy thinks and learns. He're really been struggling the last few months ( he's very dissapointed in his own slow learning, and his teacher is trying to find new ways to help him learn).

I have to say, these test are hard for the parents! Of course, Beaver did not want me to leave the room, so I sat through the whole thing. Beaver loved every minute of it – it's his dream come true. Doing work with an adult giving him on eon one attention! He did well, got though the whole thing without getting fed up, and kept his cheerful self up throughout. Of course he got tired towards the end, and of course he did not too well on the test scores. We're still in the "borderline to mild" intellectual disability side of the graph. But compared to the last test he did he seems to have jumped up a couple of IQ points.

The biggest surprise was that for some tests he was actually pretty bang on normal. Where he seems to struggle most is to integrate the different parts of his knowledge and thinking. He knows things but cannot easily connect two related things from different knowledge areas, especially with regards to more abstract thinking. Like, he can tell you about birds – and for example, the difference between native birds and introduced pest - and butterflies, but when asked where birds and butterflies are alike, he can't deduct that both fly. The testing psychologist felt this was more a neurological issue than a straight IQ issue s – he kept talking in terms of finding what "switches" Beavers' brain connections on and then the rest will click into place.

The psychologist compared Beaver to someone who's having a vision test and can not roll his eyeballs or shoulders, or turn his head or neck. It's found the patient has perfect eyesight (Beaver's "vertical" logical thinking is fine) but no peripheral vision (the "horizontal" thinking that compares and integrates facts). It might be a difficulty in using both sides of his brain and pulling information across from the right side to the left side, which is why he suggested we might try some kinesiology.

One thing that has come up again and again is that Beaver has retained almost all of his primitive reflexes. There is some chiropractic work that can be done on this and we have started on that track. I have also booked an appointment with a kinesiologist who works on learning difficulties and other neurological things and has done some work with primitive reflexes. It is very interesting to note that Beaver's Moro reflex has got markedly smaller since our chiropractor worked on it, and at the same time, Beaver's reading has taken another jump…

But basically the psychologist said Beaver does not fit in any clear label or tick box. And there is some suggestion that his learning difficulties may have nothing to do with his physical disability but might be just plain bad luck. There may well be something out there that helps him, but he's not a clear case, and according to the psychologist, it may well be that traditional therapies don't help Beaver much. He told us we might have to go and look in strange and unusual places, check out 'the fringe' as he called it and try out some things.

Isn't' it lucky that we feel quite comfortable in the fringe?

Touch and Go

Have you noticed how all new appliances seem to have touch screens? Or totally flat buttons? My electric cooking plate has them , and I do find them fabulous, s easy to clean! But it did occur to me that all this touch screen stuff is no good for those amongst us who don't see too well. Since the arrival of the iPhone, touch screens seem to have become the new standard; many other new phones have no more buttons. It's all touch and slide and choose and what have you. But there is something to be said for good old fashioned buttons people with vision impairments can feel.

Jealous

Beaver, Possum and their cousin Kelpie were playing bowling on the Wii.

Kelpie kept loudly checking the scores after each bowl, making sure he was winning. Possum didn't look to happy, but played on. And Beaver got quieter and quieter.

About half an hour later he came to me, looking sad and dejected.

- Mamma, I am a bad person

- No you are not! Why do you say that darling?

- Because Kelpie kept winning on the Wii, and Possum was always second, and I was always loosing. That made me jealous. And being jealous is bad. Being jealous makes me a bad person.

I told Beaver that being jealous sometimes is ok. We all feel jealous sometimes. It's not bad. It's only bad if you let it take over, if you let it rule your life and make you unhappy. It's ok to be jealous if you can understand that you are jealous, and then let it go. I told him that he should play the will to have fun, and if he wins, that's nice. If you only ever want to win, you can only ever have fun when you win. And I assured him over and over again that feeling jealous is normal, and does not make him a bad person.

Sensitive little soul eh?

Giraffe Girl

Last week, I had to take a bird to Taronga Wildlife Hospital (for the full story, have a look at my wildlife blog).

We have a Zoo Friends membership.This means we paid lots of money up front and then you can go to the zoo any time you like. So I left the kitchen sink dirty. I left the huge pile of laundry. I packed up Pinecone the bird and Boo Boo my daughter, dropped the boys off at school, and drove to the zoo. I handed the poor little birds in at the Wildlife Hospital (who performed a miracle over the next few days) and then took my daughter to the zoo. It was absolutely lovely.

It was the first time ever I had taken her to the zoo on her own. Normally we have the boys there, and between them, they pretty much dictate where we go and what we do. Not today! The madam was calling the shots, and she was loving it. We saw the Koalas. Their cages were being cleaned, and Boo Boo pulled a funny face and said "wee wee" and crumpled up her nose at the smelliness. We saw many birds she knew from my aviary, we had a look at the lions, monkeys and elephants. When we got to the giraffes it was their feeding time, and Boo Boo was intrigued to note that hey eat grass.

She pointed at the grass on the side of the giraffe enclosure, near to the bench we were sitting on for a sip of water. So I picked her some grass, and she promptly popped it in her mouth. And there was Boo Boo the giraffe. See?


But probably the highlight of her trip to the zoo was the ride in the little pretend train. I have to say, the train is a silly little money spinner. It is a short ride and costs $5, but boy, it was worth every cent. Boo Boo sat in the train (on my lap) like a princess and looked left and right, commenting on everything she saw (in her mix of basic words and sign language). She waved at everyone. Human and animal alike. This girl was surely a queen in a previous life! At the end of the ride, she gave the driver a big smile and said "an-ouw" (translation: thank you) with the sweetest face which melted the driver's heart – and had him waving bye bye until he was out of sight.

She charms the pants of anyone, that girl.

One Step Forwards, Two Steps Back.

Remember some weeks ago when Huby and I tried to have this day together?And Beaver went haywire? That was on a Friday. Ever since that day, Beaver plays up on Fridays. He cries in heaving sobs. There is no reasoning with him when he gets like that. I guess it's a full blown anxiety attack. Things get so bad they have to take him out of his classroom and a plethora of special ed teachers and teachers aides have to look after him.

The one thing that calms him down is knowing that mum will come and pick him up. I've done this a few times, and on the days it wasn’t' too bad, insisted he stayed at school, trying desperately not to get into a "if I cry I get a day off" routine. Last week I had a meeting with the special ed teacher and she said she's work out a schedule of what to do when this happens again.

Well, it happened again last Friday, and she wasn’t there, nor was there a programme, nor had the other teachers been briefed as far as I could tell. So I ended up having to take him home. On the way home, it all got too much for me, and I had to pull the car over to have a big cry. Every Friday this malarkey. He still doesn't sleep in his own bed – he goes to sleep in our bed and will only go to sleep if I am lying next to him and read my book. If I don't he'll stay awake until we go to bed, and he sleeps on the sofa ever night (we transfer him there when it's our bedtime). I am tired and worn down.

Aren't things supposed to get a bit easier as kids get older? Boo Boo is getting more and more independent. She now no longer cries when she is dropped off at preschool. She just pulls a sad face, waves bye bye and drives her wheelchair into the courtyard for outside play. I am so proud of her! I have taken on the wildlife work and some disability advocacy, trying to do something useful and carve out a bit more of a life for me. And then there is Beaver nibbling away at the edges. Arghhhh. Combine that with some really bad behaviour recently - hitting, lashing out, punching, and endlessly saying things like "I hate you" and "No, I don't care" – and I am really at my wits end.

Yes, we do see a psychologist with him. He loves it. He sits in her comfy chair, legs casually crossed, and chatters away about all matter of unimportant things, avoiding the real issues and lapping up the attention (I know, he wants me to stay, another thing I'm gradually trying to change). That's fine, but it's $160 a pop!

I guess I just had a bit of a "what about me" moment. I have not worked for 8 years, I have put my PhD on the shelf (well, bin really) and been a full time parent; all with the idea to be there for my kids, to give them lots of love and stability so they will he happy and secure. Yet there is Beaver, giving me the big "na-na-na-na-nah". What else am I supposed to do? Oh man!

Of course, this whole thing is not really about me, it's about the boy.

Thankfully today (Friday again) was a bit better. He seems to manage to stay at school with a timetable the special ed teacher made for him to give him structure and security. I will come a bit early to do a final session of work with him, and praise will fly around as if he has just won the Nobel Prize.

Seana put it well. Beaver is "stuck in a groove" about Fridays now. He can't seem to get out, and by being stuck in it he deepens the groove. This week he started on Thursday evening, getting worried about Friday.

I'm going to have to find a way to get him our of this state. I've cleared my diary for the next few Fridays to be on hand. I'm not going to take him home anymore; I'm going to stay with him at school. And we are going to celebrate every little achievement with one of those old fashioned star charts. There will be little rewards on the way (like crossing the road with me this evening if he gets through today, his current "thing"), and lollies, and the final goal, a Nintendo DS. Yeah. I don't particularly like these things, but I'm willing to pretty much sell my soul here in desperation. He's a tricky customer, that boy!

There. I've written it all down now. Please don't feel bad for me, I've had my moment, I'm ok. It just sometimes helps to have a cry, have a self-centred moment. And it makes me feel better to write about it.

But if you have any ideas on how to deal with anxiety attacks, feel free. I'm needing to learn here….