Special Occasions, Classroom Changes, and Papa Comes to Town

Why is your son having so many meltdowns? Baddum, ching.

Life would be so much easier if I was Carnac the Magnificent, wouldn't it? At least there might be a few more laughs. Couldn't really bring many more groans.....maybe.

There have been a lot of changes around here lately. E doesn't do so well with change. He doesn't realize he doesn't do well with change. He is only five after all. But yes, a lot of change. He's not doing so well. When he doesn't do well, neither do the rest of us.

First there was parent/teacher conferences.

"He is doing so well!", Mrs. W exclaimed.
"Wonderful!!" we replied.
"He exceeded our expectations in his reading testing".
"Amazing!"
"We want to integrate him into the full size kindergarten class for reading time, just a half hour each day".
"It's worth a try", we concluded.

He loves going to the other class. The kids there love him. He is SO proud of himself. He is doing amazingly well. So well, in fact, that Mrs. W wants to up his time from a half hour each to an hour and a half. It's awesome. It really, truly is wonderful. We are so, so proud of him. The only problem is that one, seemingly innocent change has made him extremely exhausted at the end of the day. Add on top of that the time change and the seasonal shift, and he's starting to lose it a little.

Not to mention that today is my birthday. And we went out to dinner. Where it was really noisy. And took nearly two hours from start to finish.

Oh, and my dad is in town. He normally stays with us when he visits. This time he's here for business, and staying in a hotel. More change. See where I'm heading with this?

Oh, hello there, end of rope. Yep, it's me Brooke. Nope, can't say that I missed you all that much either.

This evening ended with a meltdown. And then a half hour long rehashing of why Papa is not staying at our house. Another meltdown. And another......this time mine. Finally, my knight in shining armor (otherwise known as my awesome husband) saved the day and whisked crabby Sir E to a land far, far away. WalMart.

I got a small break. E got some chapstick. We both somehow regained our sanity, and now he is sleeping. Phew!So now I sit here reminding myself that tomorrow is a new day. Including a meeting with a new OT. Hopefully she can help, heaven knows I need all the help I can get.

For now I have a piece of cheesecake and American Idol calling my name. We all process things differently, remember?

Sensational Beginnings

No, I'm really not that full of myself. I don't think I'm anything out of the ordinary or amazing or special....I mean sensational in a different way. A new way. An "unfamiliar territory" kind of way. A way that terrifies me and explains so much all at the same time. A way that more and more parents like me are understanding every day.

I mean sensational as it applies to Sensory Processing Disorder.

You don't know about Sensory Processing Disorder? That's alright, I didn't either. And I still have a lot to learn. In the simplest of terms, sensory processing refers to the way our nervous systems gather information through sensory messages and turns it in to responses. We are continuously receiving sensory messages through our 8 senses. Yep, there's eight. Most of us have no problems receiving these sensory messages and translating them in to appropriate responses. In fact, for most of us the process is effortless, we don't have to think about it. But for some, those sensory messages get all jumbled up and they are unable to organize them into appropriate responses or behavior which ultimately interferes with daily routines.....this is the group in which my son is found. This is Sensory Processing Disorder.

You might not have heard of SPD before. If you just happened upon this blog, you might not have even met my little guy E before. But I guarantee you've seen someone affected by SPD as you've gone about your daily business. You've seen it in the little girl throwing a Mt. Everest sized temper tantrum in the grocery store just because her sister looked at her the wrong way. In the 7-year old boy down the street that still can't pedal his tricycle, let alone ride a two-wheeler. Or in the frazzled looking mom that appears at first glance to be glaringly incompetent, but who in fact has experienced one too many meltdowns that day despite effort of superhuman proportions.

I hope this blog might help to raise awareness. I hope this blog will help me process my own thoughts and emotions. But more than anything, I hope this blog will help me make sense of my son's world. For him......and for me.