Progress?

Yesterday afternoon, I took Elliot to his soccer game up at the MCS field. He is playing soccer for the second year in a row for our local school, and he loves it! It gives him a chance to reconnect with all his school buddies and to play a game that he both adores and excels in. This year, MCS has a new gym teacher, Mr. McQuade, and Elliot is very fond of him. As I was seated in my lawn chair along the sidelines waiting for the game to start, Mr. McQuade came up to me and told me how much he enjoys having Elliot on the team.

He's a great kid, and man, can he play soccer! Has he ever gone to MCS before?

Yes, he has. We took him out at the end of grade four because . . . 

And then I told him all about Elliot's anxiety issues at school and how he was diagnosed with a Nonverbal Learning Disability (NLD). Being a teacher and having worked in a private school for children with special needs that prevented them from being successful in a public school setting, Mr. McQuade was quite familiar with our story. 

Well, he seems to be doing great!

And then he returned his attention to the team in order to get them warmed-up for the big game ahead.

As I sat there waiting for the other parents to join me, I could not help but ask myself:

Is he doing great? Have we made any progress?

Lately, it feels like my world has been revolving around getting Zoe back on her feet and preparing for Thing 4's imminent arrival (4 weeks and 5 days to be exact, but whose counting?). The boys and I have hit our stride with homeschooling this year, and I really feel that I have created a program that is helping Elliot develop intellectually. Also, with his involvement in our church's Young Men's group, his invitation to play on the sport teams at MCS and thanks to our new homeschool group, which has provided us with field trips to attend every two weeks and starting next Tuesday a weekly gym class with the students at Valley Christian Academy (how awesome is that!), I really feel that all of his physical and his social needs are being addressed as well; however, it has been awhile since I really looked at how well Elliot is doing emotionally and with an appointment with Dr. Murphy, the Developmental Pediatrician who diagnosed him a year and a half ago, coming up next week, I can't help but ask myself:

How is Elliot really doing?

In all honesty, I don't know. Sure, I see definite improvements in his ability to sleep at  night, to cope with the start of a new day, and to handle new situations, but I don't know if I have done enough, or anything for that matter, to address his anxiety caused by being unable to process the highly nonverbal world we live in.

Take this week for example. On Monday, he had a soccer game in Sussex. My friend drove him because Zoe was starting a new treatment that day and I did not want to be too far away. Also, I had to get groceries and attend a homeschool meeting that evening. As it turned out, I did not get home until almost ten o'clock that night. The next day, I had a doctor's appointment and a couple of errands to run. The boys and I finished up school in the morning and then I left them with Zoe for the afternoon. That night I could tell something was bothering Elliot. 

What's up, Bud? Why are you so anxious?

I don't know . . .

and then he went on to list a lengthy series of non-related issues.

My legs hurt. My bed is scratchy. How can I possibly sleep knowing Avery is in the room too (even though this is nothing new). I need my own room. What am I going to get for Christmas? Why is Zoe still up? When is dad coming home . . . 

and so on and so on.

Finally, after I had sent him back to his bed for the hundredth time, he crept out one last time, curled up beside me and asked:

Do you have anywhere to go tomorrow, mom?

Ahhhhh . . . and so the source of his anxiety revealed itself. Life had been too hectic lately and me, a constant in his life and probably a source of comfort and assurance (I really hope), had been missing from it.

Yes, Love. I will be home tomorrow.

And then he went to sleep.

Unfortunately, yesterday was a yet another hectic day for Elliot with school in the morning, another soccer game, and then Young Men's, where they played ultimate frisbee, but I was present and that seemed to make a difference. Even though he was definitely riled up when we got home and there were a few tears shed from being overstimulated, he quickly fell asleep after he asked:

Do we have to go anywhere tomorrow?

No where at all.

So, is Elliot doing great? I think he is doing well intellectually, physically, and socially. He is making giant leaps in reading and writing, he is healthy and active, he has plenty of opportunities to be with kids his own age and he is doing well to fit in with these kids, but emotionally, I don't feel we are where he needs to be yet to live a happy, fulfilling life. Negativity and anxiety still plague him, and in spite of all the books I have read on the issue, none have given me any concrete solutions, which really should not be surprising since mental health is probably the least understood area of the human experience and ironically, it is probably the most important.

For now, I guess, I just have to keep doing what I have been doing: creating a secure and loving home environment, trying to maintain a healthy balance between activities outside of the home and days spent quietly going about our daily routine within the home, praying for guidance each and every day (sometimes multiple times a day), and showing unconditional acceptance, patience and love to each member of our household. Hopefully, with all this and through seeking the assistance of professionals like Dr. Murphy, we will be able to equip Elliot with the tools he needs to face each day with optimism, courage, a sense of purpose and most importantly, a smile on his face . . . 

which to me is far more precious and worth far more than the entire world's weight in gold.

The Tao of Elliot

Elliot is my most quotable child, and yesterday took the cake.  Initially, when he said it, I laughed, thinking to myself:

What a nut!

(in the most loving and affectionate manner possible)

But, what he said stuck with me throughout the day.  When Mr. Level-Headed and I woke up at 3am to a strange vibrating sound coming from my desk, which turned out to be nothing but Baby Girl's cell phone letting us know it was running out of batter power, I thought of it again.  Then sleep eluded me because I continued to think about it.

This boy may be onto something!

Now before I just blurt it out,  I must warn you this idea is not to be trifled with.  You should not simply think about it and brush it away with a chuckle as I initially did.  No, you need to allow this thought to meander through the hallways of your subconscious, take root in one of the deepest caverns of your mind, and blossom into something brilliant, which it will.  Trust me!  

Without further adieu, I present to you a most precious gem from the Taoism of Elliot:

How can I possible learn if you insist on teaching me the right way.

(said in response to some math instruction)

It's so bohemian, so unschooling-like, and so profound. 

Later that evening, after he dismissed my demonstration of the "right" way, Elliot decided to use his chopsticks like this. 

By golly, I think this boy has a little more Skov-Nielsen in him than we thought!

Happy Thursday!

Comfortable in his Own Skin

I was prepared for a battle, but it never came.  He woke up.  He grumbled how he missed March Break and asked when summer vacation started, but then he stopped.  He started his morning routine:  He showered, he ate breakfast, he read his scriptures, he made his bed,  he watched his allotted half hour of screen, and then he got to work.

Who is this kid?

It's Elliot, and dare I say, I think he has finally become comfortable in his own skin.  He is finally getting this thing we call life, and he is finally starting to understand its ebb and flow. 

Lately, he has been saying things that make me stop and want to shout:

Eureka!  The boy has got it.

Like yesterday, we were studying a book called "What to do When Your Temper Flares" for health, and we were talking about slowing down your body. Elliot piped up:

That's why I like carving wood.  It makes everything slow down for me.  My heart slows down and so do my thoughts.

I swear my mouth dropped, and I didn't know how to respond. 

Who is this kid?

Looking back, I didn't even write out Elliot's bedtime routine for his grandparents when we went away, which is something I have always done in the past.  I guess I just figured he knew it, and sure enough, he does. Grampy was astounded when he told Elliot it was time for bed, and Elliot began to do the drill, without any prompting:  He put his jammies on, he brushed his teeth, he grabbed a Melatonin, he prepped his blankets just right, he turned on the fan, he turned on his red light, and then he fell asleep.

Again, who is this kid?

Sure, this may not sound like much to you, but for us, this is huge.  Up to now, even the smallest routine like going to bed would send Elliot into hysterics.  He couldn't figure out what was expected of him and how to go about it, which would set him off into tantrum mode, every single night, but that has stopped.  Heck, he seems to have even conquered Daylight Savings Time!

Okay, so if you are still not convinced that we have reached a ginormous milestone with Elliot, listen to this:  March Break was busy for us, and there was one stretch where we spent three days in a row having friends over.  This is a lot for Elliot, and to top it all off he was invited to spend the night at a friends' house.  He excitedly said yes and began to go through his sleepover check list.  As I was driving him to his friend's, I noticed that he looked awful.

Are you okay, Bud?

Yeah.  I'm just exhausted. We've had a lot of people over lately.

You don't have to sleep over.  I can pick you up in a little bit, or we can even call and say this is not a good time.

No, I will be fine.  I don't have to entertain Isaac like I do the other kids.  Isaac understands me and we can just chill out together.

Okay, but if you change your mind, call me.

I will.

And he was fine.  He stayed the whole night.  

The next day, our church was putting on a Winter Olympics for all the kids, and I was in charge.  I had to go to the chapel early to set up for the activity, and Mr. Level-Headed dropped the boys off to me.  If I thought Elliot was tired the day before, he was done today. I took one look at him and cringed.

Ugh!  This is going to get ugly.

But, again, he surprised me.  He told me he just needed a few minutes alone and went off by himself to one of the classrooms.  Then, when the other kids showed up, Elliot came out and was completely on his game.  He laughed, he played, and in the end, he even thanked me.

Mom, that didn't suck as bad as I thought it would. I had a lot of fun!  You did a great job.

Okay, so this is really starting to freak me out.  

WHO IS THIS KID?

Seriously, though, just writing this post has brought me to tears. It means that all the prayers, all the sleepless nights, all the hard work, all the studying, and all the time we have spent implementing and going over even the most mundane routines, are working.  We have finally broken the code to Elliot.  We have finally made contact, and Houston, we have no problem!

Yep, we've achieved equilibrium just in time for for puberty to hit and to send everything back into a whirlwind . . . tee hee!  Life, it always keeps you on your toes.

Have a great Tuesday! 

Sometimes We Need a Reminder

Mom, I am trying.  I really am.  I am doing everything we have talked about. 

 I am doing my best!

I know, bud . . . 

I had thought Elliot's sleep problems were behind us.  I felt like we had finally conquered one hurdle along our journey with NLD, but that was not the case.  Sleeplessness has reared it's ugly head once again, and I fear it may just win.  Each day, we look at what we have done, what still needs to be changed, and try to make improvements.  Last night's improvement was placing Elliot's mattress on the floor.  During our "Worry Time" session, fifteen minutes in our day that is allotted for Elliot to express his worries and then, for the rest of the day, no longer "feed them" by talking about them or thinking about them and placing them in a figurative strong box with a GINORMOUS lock, Elliot shared with me that he was worried he would fall out of bed.  Sounds silly, right?  But hearing him say this reminded me that in one of our many books on NLD, it mentioned that most kids with this disorder/disability (whatever you want to call it) sleep on the floor because of this very fear.  

Hallelujah!

Problem solved!

Or at least I thought so . . .

I am quickly learning that there is not just one answer to this puzzle called NLD.  There a million pieces, and each day it seems I find a new one.  

With his bed on the floor, his red light on, stories read, and prayers said, Elliot fell asleep.  But, at 2am when I awoke to see the outline of his body in our doorway and his tired, little voice say:  I tried mom.  I really tried, I felt defeated.  We invited him into our bed, where he apologetically nuzzled in between us and went over everything he had tried to do on his own to get back to sleep.  Eventually his "bellyache" subsided and he did fall asleep.

When I woke up this morning, I was tired and discouraged.  I started beating myself up again for missing something, for not conquering this hurdle yet.

And then one of my bestest friends sent me this note:

I can only imagine what was said when he [Elliot] got his call to come to earth . . ."My son, in your life you will have great trials, but I will give you a mother who will make your path her own . . . she will love you, bring you the gospel, she will make your journey infinitely easier . . . your life will be blessed".*

My heart leapt, my tears flowed, and my hope was restored.  I know this is true!!

I recalled that tiny voice last night assuring me he had done everything he could, and promised myself to never give up.  If Elliot can give 100%, then I can not give any less. No matter how hard it is, or how hard it becomes, or how many times I fall down, I will NEVER give up on him!

Thank you, Anita! I really needed this reminder today.

Being a mom may not be the most glamorous job in the world, or the most rewarding, but it is definitely the most important, and it is a job I love with all of my heart.

Elliot getting some much needed rest, while listening to "The Alchemyst"  by Michael Scott, thanks to Audible.com

 *(We Latter Day Saints believe our journey in life started as spiritual beings long before we came to earth.  If you believe this too, or are interested in finding out more, please check out www.mormon.org)

Zzzzzzz . . . .

Ahhh . . . sleep.  Glorious sleep!

It's hard to believe, but there is a person in there somewhere.

I am so pleased to announce that Shenanigans Inc is sleeping once again.  That's right; a full eight hours for mama and ten for the wee ones.

What a difference a full night of sleep can make on a weary soul!

I am no longer wandering around like a zombie, unable to complete my sentences or finish a thought.  And Elliot?  He is like a dream come true.  His anxiety has reduced, he is working hard, and he is smiling.  And there is nothing I love more than his sweet smile.

So, how did we get back to here?

Well, I found the hints Elliot's doctor gave us for overcoming sleep problems, and we got to work.  We removed the Lego table from his bedroom because toys stimulate children and make it difficult for some of them to sleep.  The Lego table was put in his room just a couple of days before our trip, and was making it difficult for him to relax.  Who could relax when you know an epic battle of gargantuan proportions could erupt at any time (or anywhere . . . even at Nanny's dinner table)?

Since Elliot is terrified of the dark, he needs to sleep with the bathroom light on, but as I learned all those nights I spent sleeping with him in his bed, that light is bright and very difficult to fall into a deep sleep with.  So, we bought him a red light because it does not inhibit the production of melatonin like white lights.

And last but not least, I started waking him up everyday at 7:30am EVEN if he does get much sleep the night before.  I always thought a regular bedtime routine with a set time to go to bed was the key to a good night sleep, but even more important than that, is a regular wake up time.  Who knew?!  I was actually creating a bigger problem by letting him sleep in the morning after he was up all night.  Well, it only took two nights and Elliot was sound asleep and back into his routine.

Halleluhah! It has made such a tremendous difference in our home!

We are working hard:

Playing hard:

Elliot was in the net for one of his soccer games and got kicked in the upper arm with a cleat as he was going down to grab the ball.  Eeek!  The four Websters had planned to "trick" me by telling me his arm was broken just so they could see me swoon and vomit all over myself (I have a small phobia of broken bones).  Nice, eh?  Luckily, Avery spilled the beans . . . I love that kid!

(and cheering hard for Zoe, whose team by the way won five out of their six volley ball games yesterday . . . woohoo!)

Krista's Estethician services have started up again:

That Zoe is soooo spoiled!

Our fridge is stocked, the meal plan is made, and we bid farewell to take-out and frozen chicken strips (our supper time staples when mama is a zombie)

And, best of all, our home is filled with smiles and laughter once again.

Hooray, for sleep!

Brown Boxes Make Me Smile

There is no better to way to brighten your day after having been pelted with wind and rain than opening your mailbox to find not one, not two, BUT three parcels . . .

And it's even better, when those parcels happen to be filled with books!

The night we returned home from our trip, Mr. Level-Headed ignored my pleas and stopped at our mailbox on our way home.  I really needed just one more sleep before reality clobbered me over the head, but it wasn't  meant to be.  Among our stack of bills and Easter cards, there was a letter from Elliot's Developmental Pediatrician with another list of books we may find useful in helping Elliot to relieve his anxiety, to better understand social situations, and to learn more about NLD.  This is only half of what she wants us to read, and does not include the pile we have already gone through. 

EEEEEK!  

I think I may need another vacation . . .

tee hee!

Although the sheer size of what I have to read is overwhelming, all of these books are amazing, and it will be so great when their knowledge is safely tucked away within my brain and I can access it readily when needed.   Like right now, I really need to know how to help Elliot sleep.  We are going on a week and a half and I am dying here; therefore, today, while the boys are doing their work, I am going to go through my small library and search for the answer.  I NEED ANSWERS!!

On a positive note, I am currently working with my kids on a preventive program for depression because people with NLD have an exuberantly high rate of depression, but I figured this would be something all my kids could benefit from. The book I am using is called "The Optimistic Child", and it outlines how you can teach your child to become an optimist rather than a pessimist and give them tools to build a lifelong resilience against depression. I love it!  First off, you have to teach your kids how to recognize, or "catch" the things they say to themselves particularly when something goes wrong.  Our internal dialogue determines how we react to adversity and the consequences that arise from it.  The goal is to teach kids to stop thinking in catastrophic, permanent, and negative ways; for instance, I am the stupidest person ever, nobody likes me, I will never be good at math, etc.  During our first session, Zoe and Avery joked around a lot, but Elliot became sullen.  As I was putting him to bed, he began crying and said:

Mom, I am feeling down.

Why, bud?

Because the things I say to myself are not very nice.

Like, what kinds of things?

Well, whenever I do something good, this tiny voice always says:  yeah, but you are a dog killer.

My heart stopped.  Three years ago, our dog Sport drowned in the river while we were away on a hockey tournament, and it has bothered Elliot ever since, but I had no idea he thought this.

Buddy, you had nothing to do with Sport's death.

Yes, I did!  If I wasn't off having fun and was home taking care of my dog like I should have been doing, this would never have happened!

My heart sank.  My little boy had been carrying this around with him for three years.  I curled up beside Elliot, wrapped my arms around him, and whispered in his ear just how important he is to me. 

Buddy, you are the most amazing boy I know, you are very special, and I love you. 

These little insights I am granted into Elliot's experience are hard to hear.  Until his diagnosis, I had no idea just how difficult he found the world or that he was carrying such a heavy burden on his shoulders each and every day, but thank heavens I do know now.  Now, I can help him, and now he is no longer alone!

Parents, please talk to you kids and find out what kinds of things they are saying to themselves.  We spend so much time warning them about external threats, like bullies or ill-intentioned adults, but sometimes, it is that little voice in their head, that goes undetected for years, and does the greatest damage.  I am a firm believer that knowledge is power, and we need to equip our children with the knowledge and tools they need to lead happy, productive lives.  It isn't going to be easy, but it will definitely be worth it!

Boy Wonder

Before I start this post on travelling with Elliot, I want to remind everyone that I am simply focusing on specific NLD moments he experienced on our trip in order to help people better understand him and this disorder.  This is in no means an all-encompassing portrayal of Elliot.  Although NLD affects all areas of his life, it in no way defines who he is.  Elliot is a very lovable kid with a gargantuan amount of energy.  He loves to play sports, to play with Lego, to create mischief with his brother and friends, and to spend time with his family.  He is affectionate, sincere, and imaginative.  We love him dearly, and, although it can be challenging to raise him, we look forward to seeing his precious face each morning because it brightens our day.

Just look at that face . . .

He's so adorable!

As we were planning our vacation this year, Mr. Level-Headed and I did some research and took in consideration what we could do to make this trip more enjoyable for Elliot and for those travelling with him.  Although this made the planning process more tricky and a bit more expensive because we had to purchase additional day passes at Disney, it was well worth it!

First of all, people with NLD grow tired more easily than most people because their brain is running at 150% capacity at all times.  While we process certain stimuli and perform certain actions almost subconsciously and with very little effort, they do it consciously.  They think about EVERYTHING!  And, as one can imagine, this must be draining.  With this in mind and past experiences at Disney under our belt, we opted to buy a 6 Day Disney Pass even though there are only 4 parks because this would allow us to do some of the bigger parks over the course of two days.  This was a necessity!  Most days we could not stay in the parks any longer than 4-5 hours because it was obvious that Elliot was approaching melt-down mode.  The funny thing is, though, leaving the parks early turned out to be a blessing for everyone by giving us extra down time and the opportunity to relax and have fun together.  During these times Mr. Level-Headed and I would alternate turns taking Zoe shopping, we would swim, and we would play mini-putt.

In fact, swimming was the life saver of our trip.  According to our research, swimming is one of those sensory integration tools like massage, drinking out of a straw, manipulating a rubber toy, etc. which help our brains to realign or restart when we are feeling overwhelmed or having a difficult time modulating our emotions, which for the person with NLD, is all the time!  So, when planning out our days, we made sure that we scheduled time for swimming at least twice day.  It is all he wanted to do!  It was really neat to watch him do it too because, although he would join the pool antics of Zoe and Avery sometimes, he spent most of the time sitting fully-submerged on the bottom of the pool (Hello, Percy Jackson) or diving deep under the water and slowly swimming across the pool.  At one point he told me he likes swimming because it allows him to slow down his heart.  As a parent, I really wish I could spend just one day in Elliot's mind so I could better understand what life is like for him.  Thankfully, with comments like I just mentioned, I do get brief glimpses into his reality, but I fear it is not enough. He is still, and probably always will be, a huge mystery to us.  

Another sensory integration tool we used a lot was a rubber Perry the Platypus doll . . . oops, I mean action figure:

Perry was a gift from heaven!  Elliot was not enjoying his time at Hollywood Studios at all, and wanted to return back to our resort after only an hour.  We tried our usual bag of tricks, which had worked wonderfully at the other parks, like:

playgrounds, and Disney has two very cool playgrounds in Hollywood Studios and in Animal Kingdom.

A Bug's Life playground in Hollywood Studios

The GIANT sandbox in Dinoland, Animal Kingdom

 But like most things for Elliot, just because it worked one day doesn't mean it will work another day and, unfortunately, today was one of those "not working" days.

We tried a nap in the playground (which worked before):

But to no avail.

So we pulled out the big guns, his books:

But they too were not working . . .

Then we turned a corner, and saw a cart selling Phinneus and Ferb memorabilia.  Avery ran right over because he had been saving his last few dollars to purchase a Perry the Platypus stuffy, and Elliot followed him.  Then, along with what I imagine to be the songs of angels and a bright light shining down upon our salvation, Elliot picked up a rubber Perry the Platypus, and it was instant relief.  His hands kneaded and pulled on Perry, and he was soothed.  Hallejulah!  Without hesitation, we bought it, and Elliot never let it go.  With his magical Perry, he was able to enjoy the remainder of our day, and he even went on the Rock n' Roller Coaster!!

Perry helping Elliot to plan his next move with Mr. Level-Headed and Avery

Perry helping Elliot to relax as we waited for our flight home

Perry has become his best friend!

So, some of you may be wondering why we fear Elliot's meltdowns so much.  Well, they are not pretty, and unlike a toddler, they do not always resemble a temper tantrum.  They often involve Elliot contemplating suicide (no fun at all and very hard on this mama's head and heart), Elliot threatening to run away and/or actually running away (which happened in Epcot this year.  As we were entering a show, Elliot slipped outside of the closing doors and was gone!  It took me a whole ten minutes to find him, hanging over a bridge watching some baby ducklings swim in the water.  I am sure he was wishing he could be one of them), and then there are his full-blown meltdowns complete with screaming, crying, and body pain.  Which leads me into our next story . . .

So, we had just entered the happiest place on earth, Disney's Magic Kingdom, and Mr. Level-Headed decided we should ride Space Mountain to kick off our day since the previous two days our boys were "Thrill Ride Junkies".  Elliot was ecstatic!  He even wanted to sit in the front.  As we were zipping through the fast paced labyrinth of winding rails and loud noises in the pitch black, I thought to myself:  this may not turn out well.  I am so wise!  When we departed from the ride, Zoe and Avery were enthusiastically squealing about how scary but fun that ride was, and Elliot was sullen.  

What's wrong, Bud?

My arm hurts . . . followed up some implausible explanation of where this pain originated.

You see, as we have learnt from past experience, Elliot gets phantom pains whenever he is overly excited, scared, or anxious.  So we looked at his arm, brushed away his concerns, and assured him that it would feel better after another ride.

Well, it didn't.

In fact, it had spread to his other arm, and he was now holding both of his arms limply across his chest.

So, again relying on past experience, I told Mr. Level-Headed to find an employee and ask where the nearest First Aid Station is.  While there, we would simply explain to the worker that our son, who has Aspberger's (very similar to NLD but better known and would save us from a lengthy explanation) experiences phantom pains when he is overwhelmed.  We would go on to explain that all we needed was a wrap to put on his arm.  Well, my plan did not work out as I had thought.  Instead, a swat team was sent to examine Elliot and there were talks about possible X-rays, hospital visits, and casts, etc. thrown around.  

EEEKKK!   

Well, from what I can surmise, this freaked Elliot out, and he started screaming: "I'm going to faint . . . I am getting dizzy!"  So, the swat team grabbed a wheel chair for him and advised Mr. Level-Headed to take him to the nearest Station where Elliot could lay down and they could examine him.  Mr. Level-Headed thanked them and took Elliot out to find me and the other two kids.  When they approached us, Elliot was rolling his head side-to-side and moaning.  Zoe and Avery looked terrified and so did Mr. Level-Headed.

I don't know what happened.  He just lost it . . . .and he explained all that went down with the swat team.

Being the mom, I sprang into action, I told Mr. Level-Headed to get the other two kids on a ride and I would see if I could settle him down.

As soon as they left, Elliot started screaming:

My body's malfunctioning!  My body's malfunctioning!  

I swear I do not make this stuff up.

I wheeled him away from the crowd of people now staring at us and found a quiet place in the shade.  I took off his shoes, massaged his feet, and started talking to him about what had happened.  

That must have been pretty scary being surrounded by medical people and having them talk about  what could be wrong with your arm.

That was nothing!!  Things like this always happen to me!  I always get hurt!  But my body feels weird!  My head is fuzzy!  I am malfunctioning!

You are not malfunctioning!  You are having an anxiety attack.  Your body is really scared . . .

Then gradually, between sips of pop through a straw and having his feet rubbed, Elliot began to calm down. He started to talk about how scared he was on Space Mountain and so on and so on.   By the time, Derrick and the kids returned from the Lilo and Stitch ride, Elliot was at peace, but he still needed the wheel chair and the wrap for his arm.  Mr. Level-Headed, and I decided to call the day short after another hour of rides for Zoe and Avery and our reserved lunch at the Liberty Tree Tavern (very cool because you feel like you are in an 18th C tavern and they serve a full turkey dinner meal . . . . yummy!).  While waiting for the other three to finish up in the Haunted House, I wheeled Elliot around some of the shops.  Eventually, his mood started to change.  He was much more relaxed, and after coming out of one of the stores, he decided the wheel chair was too much of a nuisance.  After we met up with the rest of the gang, he decided the arm wrap was a nuisance.  Instead of taking any chances, though, we told the kids we were going to head back to the resort after lunch so we could swim and relax for the rest of the day.

Hooray!

And the meltdown had finally ended.  Phew!  This was a bad one, and probably the worst he has ever had, but for now it was over, and we could go back to enjoying our vacation.

Yes, life with Elliot can be very challenging, but at least it is always interesting . . . tee hee!

We love our little guy!

Learned Helplessness

One of the things I have to be careful with Elliot is not allowing him to develop a learned helplessness.  This is not a unique concern for those with NLD, a nonverbal learning disorder, but probably true for most people with a disability or some form of limitation.  As loving family members, we do not want to see them struggle with anything so we are quick to do it for them, but this is the worst thing we can do.  We have to encourage them and teach them how to overcome their challenges to enable them to develop a sense of independence and self worth.  The rule is that once they have learnt something on their own, you stop doing it for them.  And so, I got to work.

Lately, Elliot has been fascinated with cooking and preparing meals so I taught him how to do a few simple things around the kitchen from heating up soup to making Kraft Dinner.  Mr. Level-Headed figures with these two tricks up his sleeve, Elliot is now ready for University . . . tee hee! 

One week, Elliot was egg crazy, and I taught him how to make hard-boiled eggs and scrambled eggs.  Here is one of the breakfasts he made for himself.  Pretty impressive!

We have had a lot of success in the kitchen, but, unfortunately, this is the only area.  Last week I fell, unknowingly, into a huge trap and have had to spend all my time since working my way out of it.  It went down like this:  Elliot was having a rough morning (don't all of my stories start out like this?) so I threw him in the shower (not literally, I promise).  After his shower, he got out and dried himself off.  Then the meltdown began.  

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!   It's cold! . . . too cold! . . . I can't go on! . . . 

and so and so on.

To help him move out of this funk and get on with the rest of his day, I rushed in and made a deal with him.  I told him to hold the towel around himself, while I put his clothes on really quickly.  This way he wouldn't feel the cold.  BIG MISTAKE!  For the rest of the week, Elliot all of a sudden was unable to dress himself after getting out of the shower, and I, like his trained servant, would rush in and take care of it.  Then one morning, Mr. Level-Headed was home when Elliot had finished his shower and called out to me:

MOM, I'm cold . . . .

As I was about to sprint into action, Mr. Level-Headed looked at me and asked:

What's this all about?

So, I told him, and as the words were coming out of my mouth, I froze . . .

What have I done?  

And now I am spending my week trying to break Elliot from this habit . . . ugh!  What's that saying, something about taking one step forward and two steps back?

And since we are on the topic of my mistakes this week, here's another goody. 

I am loving Elliot's independence in the kitchen so much that one of our favourite lunches has become Make-Your-Own-Sub.  I simply lay out all the ingredients on the counter, and voila lunch is made and the boys are happy because everything is made just as they like it.  Yesterday, after school was finished for the morning, I sat down to finally write a blog post for the week, when all of a sudden that all-to-familiar sound erupted from the basement:  Mom, when is lunch?  We are starving! 

Not wanting to break my writing stride, I quickly threw the sub ingredients out on the counter and called:

Come and get it!  

Which totally worked with our cowboy theme yesterday . . . tee hee!

As I was finishing up my post, I heard a whole lot of giggling going on, so I looked up from my computer and saw this:

Leave it to Avery to find my chocolate chip stash and think: mmmmm chocolate and salami would go nicely together . . ..

He is so much like his mama.

Well, if I don't anything else for those two boys, at least they will be able to feed themselves during their university years, and, as for Elliot, I am sure there will be a long line of lovely ladies willing to dress him after his shower . . . 

tee hee!

Hmmmm . . . maybe he is smarter than I give him credit for.