It costs HOW much to send my child here?!?!

Can I just start out by saying that I am exhausted. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. Exhausted. There were a few weeks ago where I felt like I had my shit together and life was going OK. But like all good things that came to an end. Life is still OK. It's fine. I am just processing everything. Life is moving fast and things need to be planned and I feel like I am drowning. I don't even know where to begin. The past 2 weeks have been so full of information and unsettled feelings. I just don't even know how to process it all.

Eli has been miserable this year at school. He knows that he is different. We didn't tell him. We have never sat down and  said 'you have a condition called Asperger's Syndrome oh and ADHD and SPD and OCD...' Nope, we have never done that. Mainly because I have never wanted him to feel like something is wrong with him. Because nothing IS wrong with him. He is exactly who God intended him to be. Nothing caused all that he is. No vaccine or medication or something I ate while pregnant. He is exactly the individual that he was meant to be. But he is different than most 9 year old little boys. And his peers are noticing. Now, I cannot be too harsh on his peers. My child is not the easiest kid to get along with. He can be downright rude at times without even realizing it. A lot of his reactions he cannot control. He often feels so bad about his inability to control his impulses that he will just cry over what he has done. It is heartbreaking at times. It is also challenging as a parent to not box him up and ship him to china during some of his meltdowns. So, a lot of the negative feedback he gets at school is just how the kids react to his negative words and behaviors. I have never said my kiddo was a saint. He is a very sweet boy who has challenges every single day. What comes easily to most kids is an on going battle for him. It takes effort for him to just stay in his seat during class. It takes medication to even make that achievable. So all of his comments about school made me start looking into other options for him. It has been a daunting task to say the least.

I started with a tour of a small private school. I could see my son excelling there. I can also see some downsides to it as well. I haven't told him about this school yet because I don't want him to get his heart set on going there. There is already a waiting list. So onto school #2. This school is different. It's a 30 minute drive from our house and out of state. It also comes with a price tag of $11,000 tuition per year. I flinched a bit when the price was laid out in front of me. But I was not ready to mark it off the list just because of that. This school is not just a school. It is a place where he would receive ABA therapy. He would would,instead of receiving accommodations, learn to do the difficult things. He would get OT in school. There would be trained therapists on site to help him during a meltdown. The facilities were almost brand new and so nice. The kids there were very bright. The academic program was challenging. Eli would be challenged in so many ways. I could see it as a place that would prepare him for life, not just to get through school. I was not completely sold on this one either. I want him around typical peers too. And he would be here. But the majority of the students here were all over the spectrum. This was a school that was designed for those who learn differently. His education would be tailored to his grade level. It was structured and strict. The rules were not made to be bend. I could see him doing well here and I could see a whole shit storm of meltdowns too.

So with the realization that moving him into a private school may be the best option at this point, I had to look at the financial side. A friend of mine told me about the IDEA IEA act. This is basically a program that gives families with kids who have qualifying disabilities funds to attend a private school. There is more to it than just that. But in a nutshell if your kiddo is in a public school and you don't feel like their needs are being met you have the option of putting them in private school, and the state will help pay for it. That made that $11,000 tuition seem a little more attainable. When I got to digging more into the details I learned 2 things. #1 the school could not be out of state. #2 Eli's diagnosis of Asperger's does not qualify, because that is no longer an actual diagnosis. His pediatrician has already referred him for a full re-evaluation to get his diagnosis updated to 'High Functioning Autism". But the appointment will be several months out. I need something done sooner to apply for this grant from the state. I view things like this at road blocks. And they make me want to scream. But we must move forward.

Can I talk about the interview I took Eli to? I feel like this needs to be put out there. Most days I feel like Eli appears like any other kid. I mean he is my normal. I know nothing else. What looks awkward and weird to others is just what I think is normal for my child. But when I took him for this interview at this school his challenges were on full display. We were walking in and he said 'I AM NOT GOING TO THIS SCHOOL! I REFUSE TO GO TO A SCHOOL IN A DIFFERENT STATE THAN I LIVE!' I know not to challenge him at this moment. I told him we were just exploring all options. We get in the office and sit down across from the headmaster. She was very nice, polite and professional. She talked to me for a while. Then she turned her focus to Eli, who had sat quietly for quite some time. She asked him to tell her about his friends at school. And his response was hard to hear. He said 'Well, sometimes they laugh at me because I am not good at the stuff they are good at. Like soccer.'  She asked him if he enjoyed playing soccer and he said 'I used to. But no one ever passes me the ball so I quit.' She then asked him who his best friends were at school. He perked up and said 'Adam is my best friend! But sometimes I get mad at him. So I have 2 back ups. Austin is my first backup, he lives in Georgia. And Audy is my other backup and he lives in Florida.'  I instantly felt my throat tighten and my eyes sting. Adam lives down the street from us and comes to our house after school. And Eli does see him occasionally at school. But Austin is a child that he has met maybe 3 times in his whole life. We see Audy once a year. These are not kids he sees very often. It just broke this mama's heart. I thought he was doing better and things were getting easier for him. The headmaster loved Eli and expressed how much she would love to have him attend their school.

I have not toured any others yet. I don't know if I am mentally prepared for it just yet. I know I need to. I need to make a plan for him. I need backups in case he doesn't get in our first choice. And it is an unbelievably exhausting thing to do. I spent most of the day today talking to psychologists and counselors about his diagnosis and how to get it changed. The $6,000 from the state could help us tremendously with tuition costs. His diagnosis being re-coded could help him get back in some therapies that he NEEDS to be in. While he is in public school he needs things added to his IEP. He needs social stories to learn to interact with other kids. He needs to have his IQ tested. There are so many things that need to be done. I am tired. The past 2 weeks have me beaten down. I know I'll find the energy somewhere but not today.

Monday, Monday all day long.

It has been one of those days, where nothing seemed to flow exactly right. I mean just turning this crazy laptop on took FOREVER. I had to completely reboot it, I had about 900 tabs open, so that was probably why. Anyways, back to my Monday. I had to have my littlest at the dr at 8:30 for his 2 yr checkup. So that meant my hubby had to take my other 2 to school. I have to admit our morning went pretty well. We all got out the door on time. That in itself is a miracle. I was early for Warren's appointment, and he happily sat in my lap while we waited to be taken back. Again...miracle. God must have been saving my energy by allowing all this to just fall into place, because I sure needed to be in a good mood to get through the next few hours.

So just to backup a tad to my last post about Warren. He was checked out by a neurologist who told us to be watching him for signs of Autism. His toe walking is a red flag and from his evaluation he seemed to think he was doing it because of an OCD or sensory thing. So we were told to just watch him closely and follow up with our pediatrician and get our little guy into Physical Therapy to help his heels find the floor. He is now doing OT and PT weekly. And I kind of thought this "wait and see" journey would be longer. I thought I had some time to just sit back and coast through this stage. Yeah he walks a little funny, he is a tad clumsy, but overall he seems pretty typical.

About a month or so ago I saw his right hand flap. It was in a moment of frustration. I wasn't doing what he wanted me to do and his little hand just flapped in my direction. I didn't really react. I just thought 'did that just happen?' 'that has to be a one time thing. I have never seen him do that before.' So I made a mental note to pay closer attention to his hand. I didn't see him do it again for a few days, but I saw him do it again. And again. And again. And again. Then I saw him do it with both hands when he got excited. I saw him rise on his toes and flap his hands and squeal "BIG TRUCK!" I felt that feeling in my gut...this isn't good. This is what we are supposed to be watching for. So I texted my friend and told her to watch him next time we got together and see if she saw him do it. Maybe I am imagining it. Maybe I am seeing something that isn't there, or something that all kids do. This could mean nothing. Calm down. Breathe. Nothing is definite from a few hand flaps. He was just upset or excited.

While filling out his papers for his checkup I had to circle 'No' on a few questions and write "Hand flapping and Toe Walking" under "Concerns". I glanced at the paper. Knowing the questions well. I have done this before. I know what they look for. I knew the ones I had to say 'No' to were ones that threw up a red flag. I smiled at my boy who was inspecting the exam table, that was a large Lion, he kept saying "Tiger!" and tracing the eyes. He is simply a beautiful little boy.

I knew how it sounded when the doctor walked in and asked how things were going. I blurted out that he has started flapping his hands. Blurted it out. I had held it in for a while. I hadn't really said it out loud. I rambled saying 'I know it can mean nothing, but he seems to be doing it more and more. And now it's both his hands. And look see how his right arm is bent and higher than his left? He has been holding it up higher too.' I am sure I sounded paranoid and crazy. Luckily, my kids have a wonderful pediatrician who is kind and never makes me feel like a psychopath. She said that hand flapping isn't typically 'normal', but that alone it doesn't mean anything. She then looked at him and said 'But in his case, we are already concerned about Autism. He is showing a few other concerning signs. Please don't get hung up on labels. Love him the way he is. Continue to do what you are doing. Keep him in therapy. You are doing everything you can right now. A diagnosis does not take away from him."  In that moment I sighed. Warren was trying to get me to open his diaper bag and find him a snack, and he flapped his hands at me when I didn't do it right away. And she said 'Oh I seen that.' We chatted about his speech and other developmental things. I bragged on how his vocabulary has seemed to explode. And how he can put 2 words together. I told her how smart he is, and how much he loves to look at books and hear a story and dance. How well he is doing at preschool. We talked about the possibility of future evaluations when he is older, and what that will mean.

And just like that the 'wait and see' season seemed to end. I feel like now we are just waiting to see what else develops. Will his speech continue to progress? I think it will. How will he do socially? Right now he is doing well. Will that change? I hope it doesn't. Will his hands flap more and more? They might. How will other people react to that? I hope they tell me that he is beautiful.

Plastic Surgery

I really meant to blog about this more often and do short little updates on my healing. But I just never took the time to do it. This past year has been amazing, but challenging. There were days that I did not want to deal with. There were emotions that at times felt too big to sort through. Despite all that, I survived! And I feel amazing on most days.

A year ago I had just started on my weight loss journey. And gaaah that sounds so cheesy, weight loss journey, give me a break! But really it honestly has been a journey, not just about losing weight, but about self acceptance and growth. It literally took me making the decision every day to keep going. And a lot of days the hard decision wasn't to get up and exercise, or stick to my food journal, it was the decision to face the hard things I had to sort through. The feelings of self worthlessness that I battled. My insecurities that threatened to tear down my entire world. It sounds a tad dramatic, doesn't it? In reality it isn't. I just saw an article today on my facebook feed about a new mom who took her life, as a result of Post Partum Depression. Your mental health is just as important, if not more important, as your physical health. And it took a complete overhaul of my mental state to get to where I am now. There are days that I still struggle with feeling like I am good enough, like I deserve to be loved. But I know that I am enough on most days.

I say all that to say I did feel better once I lost my weight. But I hated, no loathed, the body I was left with. The number on the scale looked better, I however, did not. My stomach was so stretched out and hung so low. The aftermath of carrying 3 babies and having 3 c-sections was very evident. My abdominal muscles were so far apart. I was left with severe diastasis recti, and a tummy that laid in my lap. It was depressing. I hated to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror when I got in and out of the shower. Every time that I had to lift my stomach to dry under it after a shower it felt like a chisel chipping away at my self worth. I tried so hard to love my new smaller sized body, but I hated it. My clothes fit better, I could wear a smaller size, but I wanted to cry when I was forced to look at my stomach. I would pick it up and squeeze it in my hands. I would shove it all in and imagine how my body would look if it was tight and firm. I would trace the stretch marks with my fingers, and tell myself how I earned them. But I hated them. I hated how deep they were and how my entire finger could fit the width of them. I read article after article about loving the body you have and being proud of the marks of child bearing. I was blessed to carry my babies, no matter what it did to my body, I am supposed to be happy and grateful. And I am grateful. I love what my body accomplished.

So, after much thought, I made an appointment with a plastic surgeon. I went back and forth on whether I would actually go to the appointment. I didn't know if I would ever go through with plastic surgery. But then I got the news that I needed a hysterectomy. It was like I was given an extra shove in making my decision. If I already had to have surgery, why not just do it. I discussed having it all done together with my doctor. I even asked the plastic surgeon about it. One plastic surgeon agreed, and the other did not. I ended up going with the surgeon who suggested I wait 6 weeks in between the hysterectomy and tummy tuck. And I am grateful that I waited. The hysterectomy was terrible. The tummy tuck was uncomfortable for about a week. I healed pretty well and I was back on the treadmill 2 weeks out. Not once have I regretted my decision to fix my stomach. I don't break down and cry when I see my stomach anymore. The first real shower after my surgery, I almost cried because I didn't have to lift anything to dry under it. My stomach was flat, there was no overhang. I cannot even put into words how that moment felt.

I am now 5 months out from my tummy tuck, and I feel like I have gotten my life back. I slowly built back up to lifting weights and doing cardio, and now I am trying yoga. If you would have told me a year ago that I would have a tummy tuck, I would have thought you were nuts. But here I am :)

A For Real Blog Post

It has been quite a while since I have sat down in front of a laptop and typed a blog. Phones and tablets have pretty much replaced my old laptop these days. It is a bit odd to feel keys under my fingers, instead of a slick smooth screen. I guess this is how people used to feel sitting down to a type writer once upon a time. You know I don't blog just for the thrill of hitting keys. Most of the time my blogs are an outlet for me. A type of therapy, a way to process the unprocessable. I'm pretty sure that isn't a word. But let's just go with it.

 It's been one of those weird days where I have had so many emotions cycle through my brain that I cannot decide which one to grasp onto and which one to let fly loose. They are all just lingering in my mind and in my chest. My chest has felt tight and constricted on and off. There have been tears stinging my eyes, and my breath catches every little bit as I fight back the reaction I need to feel. Sometimes a girl just needs to cry, ya know? Men don't really understand this, it seems to baffle them. All they seem to want to do is try and fix whatever is making your eyes leak. It's sweet, but sometimes we just need a good cry. When life seems messy and unpredictable a good cry can make your entire perspective change.

Today we took our nearly 2 year old to a neurologist. We waited a while for this appointment. It was the appointment to rule out some things. You know, you go in and they look at your toddler and pat you on the back and say 'you are doing a great job! He is perfect.'  That's what I always want to hear. That's the response all of us parents who are in the trenches of special needs want to hear. I don't know how this will come out. Probably in the form of word vomit. So brace yourself...or close this article if need be. I get it. These things get quite lengthy at times.

My crazy pants toddler is into everything. He is talking and he loves interaction. He loves trucks and the color yellow. He loves to throw a ball. He repeats stuff back to us amazingly. He just mastered the word "YES", and this pleases him immensely. He can climb all over the place. I mean you cannot take your eyes off this child. His hugs are my favorite. They can melt this mama's heart in an instant. He is my baby. But....there is always that damn but....he walks on his tip toes. He falls a lot. His little chubby legs have scrapes all over them. His shoes are so worn out from his tumbles and from his constant toe walking. It doesn't sound like a huge deal. I have heard so many people tell me about their cousin's kid who walked on their tip toes until they were 5 and golly gee they are completely normal. No big deal.

Except to this mama, it is. To a mom who has already navigated through the evaluations and checked the box next to 'Toe Walking', it is a very big deal. It is a red flag. When he started walking at 15 months I immediately noticed it. And in my head it was blaring lights and loud horns in my mind. That word. The word that no parent wants attached to their child, because it is so misconceived by others. It is a scratchy word, it doesn't come smooth when you say it. It squeaks out like a loose wheel on a bike. Autism. That word. The one that has already been such a huge part of our lives. It came with schedules and routine, medications, meltdowns, weighted blankets, appointments, therapies, counseling, battles with insurance. It isn't just a word. It is a monsoon of information and a spectrum so broad you can get lost just by a single google search. I have already been there. I have sat in a white room with a doctor we waited months to see and heard his voice squeak out Asperger's Syndrome. I have sat across from the pediatrician as she conducted the ADHD evaluation and discussed the medications available. I have been here before. I have felt this itchy scratchy word against my skin before.

Today was different. He is so young. The doctor just told us there was a high chance his toe walking is related to Autism, given our family history. Given that he has an older brother on the spectrum and that his other brother didn't speak until he was 4. He said it was very likely we would end up with a diagnosis for him in the future. I was prepared for this I thought. In the back of my mind I have known this was a possibility. I have watched him since birth for signs. I have said so many times that he reminds me so much of his biggest brother. They are so similar. His emotions are so passionate at times. But this hit me hard. I instantly felt my chest tighten and I felt the pressure under my eyelids. I could feel my reaction building up. Immediately I blinked my tears back, I repressed it all. I smiled and nodded and made a remark about how amazing his brother is doing now. How smart he is. It gave me a second to bring my emotions back into check.  The doctor seemed to be finished with his spill. Get my toe walking toddler into physical therapy, and watch him closely for signs of ASD. Follow up with his pediatrician. High functioning autism isn't a grave prognosis. In fact, in this office it's probably one of the best ones to get. I gathered our stuff and folded up the report the doctor scratched up and crammed it in my goldfish littered bag. My husband, my rock through all of this, scooped up our toddler and we followed the nurse to check out. And that was that. We saw the doctor we had waited for. We came out without a diagnosis. We don't even need to come back unless we notice any regressions or signs of Autism. So why was I still holding my breath?

I texted my close friends who knew we were going to the doctor. My tribe of people know what we have dealt with in the past. They know how I have been called out of church because my child was freaking out because everyone else got a green crayon and he got a yellow one. A few have heard me try to calm him in the wake of a meltdown triggered by the busyness of a crowded room. Instantly, my phone started dinging with words of encouragement. It was encouraging to feel the support from my fellow moms. The ones who said they would pray for our family as we continue down this path. They tell me how well I have handled our other boys, this will be no different. But it feels different. It feels suffocating and unfair. When Eli was diagnosed I was a fresh new mom. I was ready to face whatever was thrown my way. Although, I was lost and had no idea which way to turn first. I had my adrenaline and enthusiasm to propel me through the muddy waters. Eventually, I found my way. And along that journey we fought for our other son. We had therapy appointments nearly every day of the week. They were filled with meltdowns, tears, power battles, arguments, and bargaining. It was exhausting. But I made it through them. We are down to almost no appointments now. The school takes care of a lot of things for my big boys. I just came up for air. I can finally feel the bottom of the ocean floor. For a while I had lost my footing and I was floating along, grabbing whatever floated by me to get me closer to shallow water.

And now here we have been thrown back into this deep sea of unknowns.