One foot in front of the other . . .

So it has been a while since I posted or even visited my blog. A looooooong while. Time is quite precious and while I have a lot to say, I don't have a lot to say. Get it? Anyway, I have decided I've stayed away long enough and it is time to use this blog for it's cathartic purposes.

At the moment I am once again consumed by Autism and not enough sleep. Not the best combination as it has led to plenty of salty episodes in the last 24 hours, if you know what I mean.

Our transition to Kindergarten with Little Bear has not gone nearly as smoothly as I had *hoped.* We knew it wouldn't be easy, and we knew it would be a big change, but we certainly didn't count on 26 other little bodies taking up residence for 6 hours a day in one classroom with one teacher! And while I knew there were bumps along the way with some noisy outbursts and difficulty during circle time, I was a little taken aback when I received a phone call from school to set up a meeting to go over strategies to help Little Bear be most successful at school. I kept reminding myself that it was a good phone call in that they are being proactive in addressing the difficulties that have arisen with LB in the general ed classroom, but at the same time felt super sad and perhaps a tad bit blind sighted that things were going so wrong. Now yes, it could be worse, but this isn't fabulous - lots of noises, attention seeking behavior, inattention at circle time, bugging his peers, with a little dose of stubborn and obstinate thrown in for good measure.

When the meeting rolled around, I showed up unknowingly good and sick with strep throat. Luckily, Dan was sure to attend and I had made sure that our most fabulous ABA program manager, Jennifer, was in attendance too. They both made lots of good points, had great suggestions for strategies to try, and pointed out that a self contained classroom was not an option we would consider. (And, let me say for the record, a shortened school day is not an option in my book either!).

The goal of the meeting was to start the documentation process to hopefully obtain a one-on-one para educator (aide) for Little Bear. The frustrating part of this whole thing, is this is exactly what we wanted for him when starting the school year. We KNEW he would need an aide to help him transition to the big school where his is the minority instead of the majority as was the case in developmental preschool. Unfortunately, in following the law, it is evident that a child must sink and flounder around before the help can ever arrive! So frustrating.

We meet again in 2 weeks as a team to see what strategies have proved helpful, and hopefully to get the ball rolling for a para. I want this kiddo to love school (which thankfully he does at the moment), and I want him to be successful and have the attention and help he needs when he needs it to help him be most successful and lay the groundwork for a successful school career, since he'll be in school for at least the next 12, hopefully, 16 years!!!.

Top all of this worry and frustration off with an utter and complete lack of sleep and it makes for a disaster of a mom every once in a while. Little Bear has decided that he cannot be without me at night. Not hardly for an hour. He wants me to tuck him in and read his story. Me to give him kisses and help him make his nest (he informed me he was a bird the other night and could I please help him make his nest?). And . . . he wants me ALL NIGHT LONG. After several nights of letting him tough it out (read: moan, groan, cry and scream for TWO HOURS at a stretch - "I want Moooooom," progressing to "I want my Mom," progressing to "I want my Mommy!"), and the use of ear plugs by every member of the family excluding the dogs, I decided screw it, I'll just start sleeping with him so at least some of us get sleep! While Squirt is now a 4 year old expert at using industrial orange foam earplugs, it just didn't' seem fair that we were all up and awake in the middle of the night. So now, when he starts his chant of "I want Moooooom," I quickly make my way to his bed and tell him to move over. I tell him that I will stay until he falls asleep and will then need to go back to my [cozy, perfect, beloved] bed, but no dice as when he wakes up to find me gone an hour after I've stumbled back to my bed, we start the process all over again. So far that has been the case until I finally push Dan out of bed for round 3 of "I want Moooom." At least that way I get an hour or two of decent sleep in my own bed. While I've known this for the last SIX YEARS, it's apparent, once again, why sleep deprivation is a key method of torture.

And so it goes today, like so many days in the last six years, and even more so in the last three and a half, I am putting one foot in front of the other knowing a full night's sleep is pretty much topping my Santa list. . . .