With Great Happiness Comes Great Meltdown

Thomas has been on edge lately. He has literally been bouncing off the walls from the wee hours of the morning until he goes to rest in the evening. I sit in the living room and watch as he runs back and forth past me, with a flap, flap, bounce, run.

He was on edge at Saturday Vigil. He shook his head back and forth wildly, tried to lay down on the pew with his shirt hiked up to his neck, and threw himself around. It’s hard watching someone try to get comfortable in his own skin.

He’s been on edge, but it didn’t escalate until yesterday afternoon. I was standing at the end of the driveway waiting for Tommy’s bus to drop him off, and when it pulled to a stop I noticed that Ed was behind the bus in our brand new minivan.

Thomas got off the bus, I half-listened to the bus driver explain something to me about tickets for being good on the bus until she pulled away and left us alone. I pointed up the road so Thomas could see dad in the new van. He started laughing with great joy to see his father in the middle of the afternoon, in a new car, no less!

Thomas loves cars. He loves their logos, their buttons and knobs, and their wheels. They speak to him, especially a nice, clean new one for which he has been waiting patiently (he announced that their would be NO GARBAGE allowed in the new car). When he found out that this one has automatic doors, it was clear he lost all sense and reason.

Losing all sense and reason seems okay enough when those things are replaced by Pure Joy. But what happens when, having lost all sense and reason, you are also deprived of the Pure Joy when your dad makes you come in out of the frigid cold?

Pure Misery, in the form of a major meltdown. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Thomas that way. He screamed and thrashed without concern to his own safety or that of anyone else, and when I looked in his eyes trying to calm him down, there didn’t seem to be any spark of recognition within. He even broke out in a rash of hives all over his face, neck, and ears.

We did temporarily calm him with the promise of a ride in the new car and a trip to Red Robin for dinner (balloons! games!), but the underlying tone of the meltdown never left us. He was yelling at us in the restaurant, teetering precariously at the edge of reason.

When we got home, it all went straight to hell. I’m not sure what brought it all back to a head. I was down in the basement doing laundry, listening through the floor to him screaming at his father. The screams had escalated into incoherent shrieks by the time I got back upstairs, and I informed Thomas that he was going to bed. Now.

I went up to make his bed and find pajamas, all while he screamed incoherently in the downstairs bathroom, in a voice that was painful just to listen to. He was screaming, shrieking at the top of his voice, his face red with the effort and lack of oxygen, about how badly he needed to go to the bathroom, and that he needed a newspaper, needed a newspaper. I’ve never heard him say that before, and had no idea what he was talking about. It was frighteningly out of context.

I went down to get him and he ordered me to leave, screeching that he needed privacy. I complied to allow him to do his business, but no business was getting done. Only screaming. So I scooped him up and took him to his room, trying not to get injured in the process. I put him on his bed and held him while he tried to get away. The non-recognition was in his face, and I started saying, “Thomas, it’s mommy! It’s just mommy! You’re okay!”

After 10 or 15 minutes he calmed down enough to understand that I wasn’t letting him leave his room until he was calm enough to put his pajamas on. After another 10 minutes or so he was able to do that, and finally went down stairs to use the bathroom.

About 20 minutes later he climbed on my lap and told me that he was feeling a lot better. Good, my baby, good.

Life with Thomas is never easy. We’re used to a child that doesn’t let us speak in the car unless we’re speaking to him. We work on it, but this is no average child. Simply stating rules and boundaries consistently isn’t always enough for him. What he requires is infinite patience and the ability to put my own needs behind his need for that patience. I’m not always successful, not by a long-shot. So we soldier on.

These episodes are particularly frightening because there is the knowlege that things could be much worse. These episodes could be more frequent, daily or more, as they are for many parents of children on the Spectrum. They’re frightening because I’m not sure what really triggers them.

Obviously it was a matter of things being so out of the norm yesterday. Ed was home in the middle of the day, in the middle of the week. Thomas wasn’t expecting that. We got a new car. Thomas can very easily go over the top over cars, but having a new one on a day when he wasn’t expecting it was just too much of a good thing.

These things explain the outburst, but don’t explain why Thomas has been in constant low-level edginess, displaying more than the usual autism symptoms for the past couple of weeks.

Is it the fatigue from the transition to full day kindergarten? Is it the virus that’s been taking turns in our family? Is it being stuck in the house during the very cold weather we’ve been having? My guess is probably all three of those things.

I can’t stop the unexpected disruption of everyday life from happening. I can’t stop the viruses, I can’t stop the demands of kindergarten. All we can do is get through, together, and hold on tight, and pray these episodes remain a rarity for our son.

Oh, Nancy

How many of you know that Nancy Pelosi is supposedly a Roman Catholic?  Of course, she doesn’t believe in what the Church teaches, but she doesn’t let that stop her from identifying with the institution for which she has no respect.

What does it mean when part of the supposed solution to our economic crisis is to throw money into abortion and contraception?  I’ll tell you what it means.  The “poor” will now be able to stop producing the surplus population.

The Government is going to make it even easier for women to pump themselves full of pharmaceuticals and will ease the financial burden of having an abortion; all in the name of helping the economy.  All in the name of the State. 

If that doesn’t make your stomach turn, maybe watching her explain it will:

January 22, 2009

On the Anniversary of Roe v. Wade

A message from Fr. Corapi:

We have passed the threshold into one of the most important weeks in American history, and a convergence of three very important celebrations reminds us of it. Monday we celebrate the remembrance of Dr. Martin Luther King, who worked so heroically and tirelessly to insure that all men and women might share in the American dream equally. Tuesday we celebrate the inauguration of the first African American president, Barack Obama. That an African American can be so elected is indeed a cause to celebrate. However, thursday we pray and do penance on the anniversary of the most infamous court decision in United States history, Roe v. Wade. All three are related.

Dr. King fought long and hard and suffered many things that all men and women in the United States of America might enjoy those truths that we hold to be self evident: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. He was an American hero for so doing. This week we should rightly celebrate the fact that an African American can be and has been elected President of the United States. This is surely progress, both political and moral.

This all being said, it has to plague the conscience of any thinking person that in this country there is yet the most immoral and deadly form of prejudice and persecution imaginable against the most innocent and vulnerable class of human beings—the unwanted unborn. No matter what advances this country makes, moral, economic, social, or technological, so long as that blight on our national identity remains, all else will ultimately pale into relative insignificance.

God is not a disinterested spectator in the affairs of man. He knows every child by name from all eternity. He loves each one with His infinite love. God’s holy Catholic Church teaches that abortion in a single case is homicide. I assert that if this is the case, and it is, then the 50,000,000 homicides through abortion that have taken place in the United States since Roe v. Wade constitute genocide. God will not favor such a country, regardless of any other progress. Unless this outrage against God and humanity is stopped very soon, the United States of America, and in turn all of the Western world, will realize the death wish that it has manifest for several decades.

Every Catholic, Christian, Jew, and all people of good will and right reason must pray and do penance rigorously and daily from now on for the defeat of this heinous evil we call abortion. If we fail, then Western society as we know it will soon collide with a disaster it will not survive.

May God have mercy on us.

Fr. John Corapi

The Lovey Award

Elena over at My Domestic Church  has given me a Lovey Award!  That means a lot coming from such a great blogger. 

“These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.”

Okay, here’s my eight!

Chel

Sara

Lindy

Kate

Karmyn

Carla

Vixen

Arwen

This list is proof that we don’t all have to have the same politics and opinions to enjoy reading each other’s blogs.  Here’s to reaching across cyber space!

Change I Can Believe In

This is the week.  There will be throngs in Washington D.C. who have been waiting, praying, working for change.  They will gather together in a spirit of unity with hearts full of hope that change will happen; and the knowledge that the work will continue until change does happen.

I’m speaking of Thursday’s annual March for Life, of course.  What did you think I was talking about?

7 Quick Takes Friday

This idea is brought to you by Jennifer at Conversion Diary.  A great way to recap the week!

1.  Thomas began full day kindergarten this week, and so far it is going great!  He’s happy, and so am I.  To be honest, I’ve been more relaxed this week than I have been in a long time.  Part of it is that I’m no longer anticipating this change that I was worried wouldn’t go well for Tommy, and the other part is that Tommy is in school all day! 

I love my boy, but he isn’t the easiest child.  There’s less sibling fighting now, and having a break from Tommy’s constant desire for time and energy is letting me spread myself around to my other two children in a more consistent way.  Not to mention that he’s so tired by the end of the day that bedtime has also become easier. 

2.  I finally painted the upstairs hallway yesterday.  It’s not that I didn’t like Sean’s artwork or the hole that Thomas kicked in the wall while in the throws of one of his late night episodes–it was just time.  If you look closely under the light switch outside of the bathroom door, you’ll see a Ryan-sized hand print in the paint that I’m keeping. 

3.  Ryan lost a pair of boots at preschool.  This was only a slight irritation, mostly because I expect this sort of thing to happen (I stopped buying the nice, expensive winter boots for the kids after Thomas lost a brand new pair when he was in Pre-K).  They were plain black boots, and anyone could have grabbed them thinking they belonged to their kid.  He has another pair of boots anyway.  I hope someone’s getting some use out of them.

4.  My husband turned 40 this past Tuesday!  How did that happen?  That means we’ve been together for more than a decade.  I was 23 and he was 29 when we met.  How we have grown since then.

5.  We’re still considering putting our house on the market, but haven’t been able to commit to that plan.  It’s only been 2 years since we moved here, so we are well aware of what a major undertaking it is to sell and buy a house.  And that was in a market that was more conducive to those transactions.  Our feet get cold so fast!  But we’re still working on the house, getting it ready.

6.  RCIA was great again this week.  I can’t describe what it’s like to finally have people to talk to about Jesus, the Bible, and the Catholic faith.  To see my husband learning and also feeling the enthusiasm, well, it’s just amazing.

7.  The vitamin regimen is going well.  I definitely have more energy this week, and I hope it continues to get better.  Now to keep the promise to myself to cut back on the sugar!  I’ve been making efforts, but with birthday cake in the house all bets were off.  Here’s to doing better next week.

Have a great weekend!

Let’s Hear it for Full Day K

Thomas is now 3 days into full day kindergarten.  The first day was filled with phone calls from bus garages and teachers, regarding my being late to wave  the bus off when Thomas got home;  and his difficulty with making his lunch choice, respectively.

On the same day I received a note telling me to do more to help Thomas with getting his shoes on and off unassisted, and another note telling me that I was late with his milk money for the month.  The same $7.20 that I had sent in the previous Thursday. 

So, I was a little ticked off, and Thomas was perfectly happy.  He was grinning and happy to have sauntered independently from the door of the bus to the door of his house, while I was inside lost to the time because the neighbor’s car was still at the end of his driveway.  This is my marker for when I need to go out to get Thomas off of the bus.  The neighbor’s child gets home first, then the bus goes up the hill, comes back down, and drops Tommy at our house.  My marker is aparently unreliable, as is the time they drop the boy at home; but lucky for everyone this was the first time I missed him.

I still got that annoying phone call, from someone I do not know, someone with very unrefined people skills, informing me that we, “need a body,” when Tommy is dropped off. 

This is all the more annoying because I have (or thought I had) a repoirte with the bus driver.  She talks to me in the morning and has ample time to let me know if she senses that Thomas is in danger of being left alone when he is dropped off at the end of the day.  If they really did think he was walking into an empty house, why did they drop him off?  That is clearly against school policy for the kindergarten population in this district. 

In case you hadn’t guessed, I’m a little sensitive to this sort of thing.  I realize that one phone call doesn’t constitute a harassing attitude on their part or on the part of the district, it just that the driver knew I was home, she knew Thomas wasn’t in danger of being alone, and yet she had someone call me anyway.  In my home.  To tell me how to parent.  And that really bothers me.

The next morning she gave me a talk after picking up Tommy, the same talk we could have had in lieu of an annoying phone call.  The one where she said, “I didn’t see you wave yesterday.  I really need to see you when I drop Tommy off,” and then I said, “yes, that was a mistake!  I’m sorry, it won’t happen again!”

It makes me uneasy when people feel that they can’t rely on their own established relationships with people, be it their neighbors or the parents of the children on a bus driver’s route.  Why is that so many people feel they need an authoritarian intermediary just to have a simple conversation? 

It’s this sort of thing that makes me think about homeschooling my children.  It seems like it would be a good thing–to hide from the world and let them all go to hell with it.  But there’s the rub.  I have a tendency to hide from the world, a tendency I don’t necessarily want to pass on to my children.  Homeschooling would probably result in the weaving of a thick cocoon, limiting my kids’ access to a variety of personalities and intellects, allowing them to develop tools to deal with the wider world.  Tools that I can’t necessarily give them.

I am not, not, not, saying that other people who choose to homeschool cannot give these things to their children.  I’m sure they can.  I’m saying that I am not likely to be able to do so.  I’ll just have to keep learning charity and patience as my children learn to read and write.  In the end it will likely be good for all of us. 

The homeschool alternative is attractive, but what will benefit me and my kids the most is what counts.   Thomas is a grinning, happy boy at school, and that’s all the proof we need so far.

RCIA Thursday

Ed and I finally got to our second RCIA meeting last night.  With the holidays, bad weather, and one kindergarten Christmas concert, it’s been about a month since we were able to gather with everyone.

It really is an amazing group of people, talking about amazing things.  Last night’s lecture was by a couple who’ve been married for 42 years and have traveled all over the globe.  In every country they visit they collect a statue or icon of the Blessed Virgin.  Last night they brought in their entire collection to share with the group.  It was quite amazing, but what was even more amazing was their enthusiasm and desire to share their faith, and last night in particular, their faith as it relates to Mary.

It was especially moving to see how my husband took in the lesson and the discussion.  Since he didn’t grow up in the Catholic Church, the relationship of Mary to Jesus (and to us all), is something pretty new to him.  He was, in his own words, “blown away.”

As we were driving to the grocery store after class he said something very telling that I think has been the source of many people coming to Jesus through his Mother.  He said, “I didn’t know I was a child of God.”

It’s more than wonderful to be able to talk with intelligent, warm men and women of faith.  I’ve never in my life had such a spirited and exciting conversation as the one I had during the break about Mary going to Elizabeth to tell her what has happened to her, only to find that Elizabeth already knew!  What a relief that must have been for Mary. 

The following is the prayer known as the Magnificat:

My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,

for He has regarded the low estate of His handmaiden.

For behold, henceforth all generations will call me blessed;

for He who is mighty has done great things for me, and Holy is His name.

And His mercy is on those who fear Him from generation to generation.

He has shown strength with His arm, He has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts,

He has put down the mighty from their thrones, and exalted those of low degree;

He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich He has sent empty away.

He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of His mercy,

as he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his posterity for ever.

We’re looking forward to next week’s meeting.  It’s the fastest two hours of the week.

Malingering in the New Year

I’ve been examining my laundry list of physical ailments these past few days, trying to make sense out of all the vagary and discomfort. 

At some point I’ve probably brought all of these issues before one doctor or another, despite a strong desire not to do so.  The reason I don’t like talking to doctors about these symptoms is that I am usually told that they are anxiety or depression related.   The fact that I don’t feel anxious is usually poo-pooed.

Last year when I went to see a neurologist for some odd tingling sensations in my back I was told that I was, “pent-up.”  I didn’t know that was an actual neurological diagnosis.  And my back is still tingling, sometimes painfully, on my left shoulder blade.

I get the feeling that when I am asked what kind of medication I am taking and my answer (my only answer) is Zoloft; they feel they’ve found the likely answer to whatever my problem is.  Well, she’s already on Zoloft!  She must be a nut!

That’s not to say that I believe there’s is a diagnosis out there for me that I’m somehow entitled to, I just think that my discomfort is worth some investigation.

For example, I’ve had epigastric and right shoulder pain for years now, and finally this past fall a doctor told me that it was most likely my gall bladder, and I should have it removed before it becomes an emergency.  Funny, ’cause when I told my Ob/gyn about the shoulder pain she said it was from carrying my kids.  Even thought I don’t carry my kids on that side, but there’s no use in arguing.

My worst complaint is really the fatigue.  The fatigue is awful, terrible, debilitating.  I’m not always like this.  The doctor who discussed my gall bladder with me said it could definitely be related, so there’s some hope that I could get a resolution when I have that bastard removed. 

The fatigue begins to get bad in the luteal phase of my cycle, and become progressively worse until the end of my period.  So periodic anemia could also be in play, along with the hormones.  Progesterone can do bad things to an already ailing gallbladder, which is why so many women have problems during pregnancy.  It would only make sense that my gallbladder symptoms would be worse during the luteal phase, when the body is kicking out the most progesterone.  So I’ve got that going for me.

The other major complaint is the pain.  I have pain in my hands and shoulders and burning in my feet, all seem to get worse when the fatigue is at its worst. 

As I sit here writing this in the almost dark of a snowy January day, I do realize that Seasonal Effective Disorder could be in play here.  (Does anyone else remember that episode of Northern Exposure where they all got the lights to wear on their heads to keep them from getting SED?  That was a great show.)

So here’s what Dr.Erin is thinking.  I will make an appointment for a physical, but in the meantime, here’s what I’m prescribing to myself:

• A super multi vitamin with 800 mcg folic acid, chromium, and b-vitamins for the inflammation.
• Citracal with Vitamin D.  I was told last year that I had a vitamin D deficiency.  800 IU per day, calcium and vitamin D.
• Co Q – 10, 100 mg, for inflammation
• Omega 3/fish oil, 1000mg, for just about everything.
• Cut down to 1 cup of coffee a day, replace other servings with green tea preferably, or black tea.
• Cut down on sugar, chocolate, caffeine.
• Cut down processed food.
• Cut out fast food.
• Drink more water.  Why is this so hard?
• Exercise, somehow, find a way.  Tut, tut!  No excuses, 3 kids, yadda, yadda, blah, blah.

So, it’s not that I’m trying to discount depression, it’s just that I don’t feel comfortable with which came first, the physical, or the psychological.  And I am 100% unwilling to up my Zoloft dose, because I hate that I’m dependent on it in the first place.

I’m going to try to do these things for myself.  I’ll probably try and fail and try again more than once, but I would really like to try to stick with it for at least a month to see if it makes a difference.  I’m not calling it a New Year’s resolution because I don’t really like making those, so let’s just call it a sensible move for someone who feels like a wreck after a month of eating what amounts to pure sugar and fat. 

And it couldn’t hurt if we could have a week without a snow storm.

Painted

I’ve been talking about painting the kitchen for eons.  Yes, that long.

Yesterday we did it.  I went to Lowes, didn’t allow myself to belabor the color, get discouraged by my own indecision, and just put the entire project on hold for another six months.

So here’s a picture of the color.  It’s a purple/grayish/brown.  I k now, whodathunkit, but it actually looks very pretty.

The truth is, we’re probably going to put our house on the market.  We’re not letting ourselves get too hopeful that it we’ll be able to sell in this market, but we’re going to try.  And just to get ahead of ourselves, we’ve found a house that we really, really like in another county.  It’s a 1834 Greek Revival, and it would be loads of fun if we could get it…but like I said, we’re ahead of ourselves…

So here’s to the kitchen that took a year to finish.  I put the floor down last Spring, we put new lighting fixtures and counter tops in, a new breakfast bar, and now, finally, we’re almost done painting it.  Baby steps.