Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Welcome to Holland

c1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.

Friday, November 16, 2007

And that's all I have to say 'bout that.....

"Ha Ha Ha, Biff. Guess what? After we go to the drug store and the post office, I'm going to the vet's to get tutored."
I've always been a huge fan of Gary Larson's Far Side cartoons. This particular comic is one of my favourites. Today it seems strangely fitting somehow.......

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Lexi - (wandering around the kitchen, hands raised, perplexed expression on her face)

Me - "Lexi, what are you doing?"

Lexi - (angelic expression on her face, looks up and asks innocently) " Mommy, where the hell are my shoes??"

Eesh. It's one thing when they simply repeat things that they overhear and really shouldn't have. It's entirely more difficult to get rid of once they figure out how to take said "unspeakables"and put them correctly in a sentence on their own. I wish I could say that this is the only one she uses but that wouldn't be entirely true. I also wish that I could say that it was Trent's fault, but that wouldn't be true either. I guess it's time to clean up our act a bit....which while not a bad thing, isn't exactly the easiest thing to do.

Monday, November 05, 2007

".....well, she can be an extremely overwhelming sort of child...."

Hmm, you don't say? This was from a conversation with Tatyanna's occupational therapist, who I'm positive might feel completely in over her head most of the time but does an amazingly remarkable job during their hour together nonetheless. The appointment with the developmental pediatrician was considerably less productive. She started the assessment using all the standardized method of testing and within half an hour could go no farther. She tried doing the usual "copy my drawing" test to which Yanna's response was "draw a horse!!!" she moved on to the block test. Tatyanna felt that she should then make a horse from the blocks. Within half an hour we had to remove Yanna from the room as she was pretty much climbing the walls. The rest of the appointment was spent conducting a patient history. At the end, the ped. announced that she wasn't really sure what was going on as she couldn't fully conduct an assessment and that she wasn't willing to officially diagnose Tatyanna with anything but would refer her to a neurologist, children's special services and the pediatric autism organization. It was entirely frustrating and Trent and I left the office wondering if perhaps she had obtained her credentials from one of those online study institutions. I get a lot of spam in my one discussion forum that promise a PhD in 3 months or your money back. Perhaps those people really can get jobs!!

Ironically, she is closer to being like the old Tatyanna that it doesn't bother me a bit. It's funny how your perspective can change so drastically in such a short time. I would much rather have her tearing apart the house, emptying the pantry and antagonizing her siblings than have her barely able to function as a result of continual seizures and side effects from medication that just isn't working. I realize that this reprieve may be short lived as medications but I will take it and enjoy it.

Friday, November 02, 2007

urgent, schmurgent

Apparently my definition of the word urgent is significantly different from that of our local imaging department at the hospital. Over a month ago Tatyanna's pediatrician finally sent away a request for her to have an MRI. The request was marked as being urgent....not an emergency exactly but with a higher degree of importance than a regular, standard request. We were told to expect a 7-10 day wait. We waited patiently for the first two weeks. We waited impatiently for the following 2 weeks. After a month of living in limbo I decided to give the diagnostic department of our local health centre a call.


Me (using my grown-up sounding, ex-call centre voice)- Hello, this is ----- calling. I was wondering if you could tell me if Tatyanna Z. has been scheduled for her MRI yet. Dr. E sent the request away about a month ago.

Them (that would be the people who sit at the desk and make the appointments)- Oh, Tatyanna......

Me - feeling optimistic at this point! Hey, it sounds like they at least remember the name, and that's a good thing right??!!

Them - ummmmm, hmmmm.....

Me - not feeling quite so optimistic anymore

Them - How old is your daughter again?

Me - She's 4 (I could hear them typing so either they pulled up her file and don't fell like doing math to figure this out or they are playing an exciting game of Stratego while we are talking)

Them -Oh....you don't think she will lay still for this do you?

Me - (trying not to sound as boggled as I feel and wondering if perhaps the person is kidding) No, I don't think so.

Them - Are you sure?

Me - Yes. I'm sure.

Them - You're sure she won't lay still.

Me - I'm 100% positive that she will most definitely NOT lay still! At this point I'm wondering if this woman has ever been exposed to children let alone have any of her own. I don't know a normal 4 year old that will sit still for 30 minutes. I'm not sure how they figured my 4 year old ASD child was going to lay still for that long with out moving a muscle while they insert her body into a tube and loud noises thump around her head. Perhaps I'm underestimating my child, but I really think not.

Them - (sounding rather irritated) Well she'll have to be out under then (no, really???) We'll have to send you and her doctor more paper work before we can go ahead and schedule her in.

It's probably best that I don't actually put in writing how I felt at that particular moment.


Today we see the doctor so that he can fill out his share of the paper work. I'm not really sure why this wasn't done in the first place.

Thursday, November 01, 2007

18 lbs. In just a couple of hours, the kids managed to collect 18 lbs of sugary goodness. I'd love to tell you that I was kidding or maybe even exaggerating just a little, but out of a sick sense of curiosity I put all the loot in garbage bag and tossed it on the bathroom scale. This particular scale also weighs in on the light side, but I keep it around because it makes me feel better. So in actuality, we probably have more like 20 lbs of candy. Lexi weighs 20 lbs. How does one even begin to hide that much candy? And I will hide it, you can be assured of that. The thought of 4 kids bouncing "snitch" like off the walls doesn't really hold much appeal for me. They were a little disappointed to hear that I wouldn't be using this as an exercise to teach them some self control. Right, good try though guys!