Preschool Woes

Have you noticed the pattern of shrieking and screaming yet? I know I certainly did, but I tried and tried to give Joey the understanding of what we were communicating to him. But it seemed like the harder I tried, the more frustrated we all got. Back then, I knew very little about autism or Asperger's, so I brushed off the symptoms I saw when more positive things were happening with him.

Joey's aptitude in academics began early. And his visual propensity manifested during his 2nd year. He drew his 1st recognizable figures at 2 years old: a bubble person wearing dark glasses and a turtle. Around the same time, he began writing his name and the word "moon". He drew this same funny cow and moon picture over and over again.

He was also very resourceful in his play. Just before his 3rd birthday, he created a horse-drawn buggy from his stuffed horse, a belt, and a plastic wagon. He would build and rebuild...and rebuild....and rebuild. Certainly I noticed that he acted out scenes repetitively, although I wasn't sure where he got the ideas.

And his preschool director noticed too, which is why we had several meetings to discuss Joey's screaming and "odd behavior", otherwise known as "imaginary play." When I asked her if she had experience with a child like Joey, she expressed that she had, and those children went on to become very bright, gifted students, but suggested that I place Joey in the public school's 3K program for kids with "his problems." To this, I expressed that I didn't care for their secret nickname for my son (Josephine, because he had a high-pitched shriek) and if memory served me correctly, Joey was knocking his academic parts of the day out of the park AND was drawing and writing while his 2 and 3 year old classmates were shoving Playdoh up their noses or flushing random objects down the toilet. And somehow MY kid needed special care? Ha! The director pretty much said their CHRISTIAN preschool didn't want him to go into their 3K program because he screamed in the mornings when I dropped him off, and because he probably wasn't learning anything anyway because he was "special".

So I did what any mother would do: proved them wrong. I did have Joey screened for the school's 3K programs, and, big surprise, he was entirely too "smart" and his fine motor skills were at the level of a 5 year old at barely 3 years of age. The only issue they found of course was a language delay. They didn’t see where his behavior needed intervention because frustration and tantrums go along with the language delay territory. So he began weekly speech therapy at the school. Did I inform the director of the preschool of this gratifying (mostly) news? You betcha!

Thankfully, at this time, Joey was also going to a wonderful babysitter after pre-school because I had gone back to work full time. Having her own children with special needs, she had a great understanding when it came to Joey’s language delay. And being the natural-born teacher that she is, she was able to help Joey communicate better with sign language, and she provided plenty of structure as well.

And so, while Mommy and Daddy were working, Joey spent his mornings at preschool where he was often punished for becoming frustrated with building blocks or being misunderstood. In the afternoons, he was with Miss Sabrina, learning communication and social skills, and having fun….except for those days when he had to tag along for shopping trips or doctor’s appointments. (My apologies, Sabrina  Or Misabina, as Joey called you) . She was quite gracious about the whole sensory overload meltdowns.

In the evenings, the same old same old would occur: hyperactivity, frustration, meltdowns, and nightly bedtime struggles. There were nights when Joey wouldn’t fall asleep until 12 or 1 a.m.. You would think after a very active day of screaming, playing, learning, running, running…..and running some more, that he’d be somewhat tired come 8 or 9 in the evening. Nope! The nightly routine was bath, jammies, and me attempting to read to Joey. But he would get frustrated with this part very quickly, and until about a year ago (almost age 6), he would fight being read to. Even as a newborn, when I’d try to softly read to him, he’d get agitated and start wailing. I began to wonder if my voice was just that abrasive, or was something else going on.

Reading time finished…somewhat…let the horror film shrieking commence! Sometimes Joey would shriek for as much as 2 or 3 hours at night, running to his doorway screaming only "Mommy!" Eventually, he'd wear himself out, and I'd have to pick him up from the floor to place him in his bed. This went on for probably a year or so.

I'd like to add here that affection, hugs and kisses, were something Joey didn't do. He would barely tolerate them from us, and shunned others' attempts. But he was extremely happy when he was happy, and a holy terror when he was upset. He made okay eye contact, but he didn't enjoy the company of other children, unless they were older. He LOVED adults.

When Joey turned 3, things got a little better in the communication department because he was in speech therapy, but we still couldn't get past the meltdowns and hyperactive behavior. I soon found out why the Terrible Two's were no match for the Trying Three's...Yikes!

(THE PHOTOS IN THE NEXT POST ARE OF SOME OF THE VERY FIRST DRAWINGS JOEY CREATED ALSO AT AGE 2...THERE WERE TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES WHEN I INITIALLY TRIED TO ADD THESE TO THIS PARTICULAR POST)

The Terrible 2's: Tantrums, Tears, and Hair-pulling....(and it was a rough time for Joey too!)

Ahh, the Terrible Two's. As a parent, you will hear stories of tantrums, biting, strong wills, and maybe even the occasional "my kid used to bang his head on the wall repeatedly". You'll hear an equal amount of over-embellished tales of how well-behaved, smart, and completely compliant a mother's child was from birth. I say "mother's" because it seems some women can't bring themselves to admit any such woes. It could tarnish their self-reputed Good Mother status, don't ya know!
Let me see if I can paint the most accurate picture of what 24 to 36 months of age was like for Joey....Take the typical menu of "Terrible 2" attributes and multiply it times 4 or 5. Now add a lack of language development to the equation and you've got yourself a recipe for frustration.
Joey's 2nd birthday didn't go as well as I'd hoped. Without going into too many details, hyperactivity and shrieking ensued.
At this point, I was a novice stay-at-home mom trying to get into the groove of being full time caregiver, teacher, nurse, psychologist, chauffeur, warden, cook, maid, etc....Joey's day was structured for his organization....and my sanity. We ate breakfast together...when I could wrangle him and sit him down long enough, that is. In the mornings, he'd help me vacuum< There's that vacuum cleaner thing again.
I tried my best to only go shopping once per week because that was the most my nerves could handle. A short trip out usually went something like this:

1. Strap Joey into car seat while he kicks and screams because he doesn't want his rapid mobility stopped.
2. Drive 15 min. to the store while Joey struggles to get out of the car seat, shrieking if a truck passed by or the sun was too bright.
3. Arrive at the store, and now Joey is happy and bubbly, ready to......RUN!
4. Convince Joey that the child seat in the shopping cart is way more fun than running all over the store, and promptly bribe him with Cheerios and a sippy cup.
5. By the 2nd aisle, Joey is overwhelmed and grumpy....and he's letting the entire know it.
6. I beg, plead, attempt to distract, and even bribe him more to stay put in his cart seat, or at the very least to hold the cart while we walk the aisles.
7. Chase him down the aisle (my attempts failed miserably), then wait for the ear-piercing scream that follows.
8. Try to ignore the ignorant remarks of witnesses who are under the delusion that screaming is something only spoiled or sleepy children do. (FYI, the worst of the spoiled children don't need to scream because they've never been denied anything. Therefore they have no manipulative reaction that's displayable.)
9. Finally make it through the store, but I've not gotten everything on my list because quite frankly, I'm exhausted.
   
10. Make it to the check-out lane where screaming begins again because...well, I'm not completely sure why. Maybe it was the sounds of the registers overwhelming him, or maybe it was that he just didn't want to leave the store....which becomes an irony in the near future. Either way, I get the usual disapproving looks of parents who are apparently perfect, as are their children.
11. Try not to lose it driving home from the store because now he's not happy about being placed in his car seat once more. Translation: more shrieking.
12. Get Joey in the house before bringing in the shopping bags, otherwise they'll never get taken in because I'd be too busy chasing him down and trying to muffle the screams so neighbors don't think he's in physical danger.
13. Put away groceries and sink into the sofa while trying not to cry my eyes out at my failure as a mother.

The rest of the day was filled with power struggles, "No, no, Joey!" 's aplenty, and an endless amount of random energy that I couldn't seem to help him channel positively. Building and imaginative play were his only interests, but there was only so much pretending he could do without developed communication skills. By 2.5 yrs old, he was still using only single words. But again, my concerns to his pediatrician were met with consolation that he would soon catch up because he wasn't lacking intellectually. If it weren't for Joey's preschool teacher, I never would have known that the public school system had a speech therapy program for children beginning at age 3. And so began the road of searching for answers, options, and support.

The Mommy Moment

Joey's 2nd birthday was marked by lingering uncertainties, as well as tremendous milestones.

He still wasn't talking very much, using only single words. But his pediatrician was confident that he would catch up soon. I took her word for it, but day-to-day living was becoming increasingly frustrating. Joey couldn't communicate his needs and it seemed that most of what we tried to communicate to him got lost in translation and frustrated him.
By 24 months old, Joey could speedily count to 10, recognize more colors and shapes, and loved to build with Mega Blocks. He liked lining up toys (to resemble a train), and also liked stacking common items. A full-blown tantrum would manifest if said stacked items fell.
It was at 23 months old that Joey easily transitioned from the crib to a toddler bed. He loved The Wiggles, and since I couldn't find a Wiggles-themed bed, I made one from a Winnie the Pooh bed. He loved it, but I worried that my little go-go-goer would wander the house at night. He didn't...but he was satisfied in giving me near heart attacks often in the middle of the night with his screaming. He's almost 7, and I still hear that screaming sometimes in the middle of the night.
You wouldn't believe the super human strength my little guy had. For at least 6 months, he had been pulling himself up onto the kitchen and bathroom counters. But he had the common sense not to get into anything...other than the cups...lol. And he knew the cold water from the hot, so if he did turn the water on, it was always the cold. It's like he was born knowing what was dangerous, what could hurt him. And because of this he wasn't curious about things like what's under the kitchen sink. But I digress; his favorite place to hang was the overhanging part of the kitchen island counter.
It was on March 10th, 2006 that Joey used the word "Mommy" for the very first time. I had left work for the day, and was driving to the in-home daycare, still worrying about the upcoming weekend. We would be hosting Joey's 2nd birthday party in our home. On top of the anxiety that comes with trying to make everything perfect for a party, I was also experiencing the stress that comes with hoping and wishing that your child will be on their best behavior. By the time I reached the daycare's driveway, I was nearly in panic attack mode. Would my house be neat and tidy enough? Would there be enough food? Would we make it through the 2 hour party without Joey going into meltdown mode?
As with most days, I collected myself and prepared for the inevitable "your child is bad...there's something wrong with him" nonsense from his sitter. As I opened the front door, the usual hustle and bustle of small children exploded, and from the center of it all came this happy, laughing toddler...arms stretched out, enthusiastically calling, "Mommy!". It took me a few moments to recognize this toddler as my Joey. I know there's a certain amount of emotion that floods a mother when her 9-12 mo baby first says "mama", and I don't mind telling you that I fell to my knees, took him in my arms, and tried to choke back the tears because I knew my crying would frighten him.
Ironically, on that same day, Joey was kicked out of the daycare for reasons unrelated to him, but completely related to my knowledge of the sitter's tax evasion. I won't elaborate on that though....I was now thrown into the tough situation of choosing between finding another sitter who could handle Joey's quirks or becoming a stay at home mom.

Toddler on the Loose!

When Joey was a toddler, I put him in an in-home daycare with a lady who eventually came to me in concern. She expressed that Joey wasn't talking anywhere near as well or as often as other children his age with whom she had experience. And he seemed, in her not-so-humble opinion, to be hyperactive. Because of these 2 things, she gave up trying to "teach" him. I won't even get into why a 16 month old would need to be educated, but I will say that having someone else recognize these issues was both relieving and scary.
So I immediately drove home to begin making a list of all the words my son used: cup, teddy, shoes, keekee, and about 100 other singular words. For his age, I thought this was pretty good. But the words "mama/mommy" and "dada/daddy" were not part of that list. I began to research language delays, and realized that he was really only using 2-3 words regularly. And he wasn't combining words into any phrases at all. When I brought this up to his pediatrician, she assured me that not all children develop at the same rate, and the words would come eventually. But I just knew she was mistaken.
Joey's energy level remained extremely high, and he was taking (most days) a brief nap in the afternoon. He would sleep through the night occasionally, but still seemed to require less rest than his peers. His favorite things were the vacuum cleaner, Pixar movies, and trying on all of my shoes. The blood-curdling shrieks were still persistent, and I dreaded taking him anywhere because I knew that inevitably a meltdown would occur.
Toys. Toys were pretty much useless, except that it was quite fun (apparently) for Joey to pull them all out to the center of his bedroom floor, and not actually play with them. He liked taking unconventional things and making something else out of them. Sofa cushions. Not real sure what made the sofa cushions so appealing, but he would sometimes arrange and rearrange them for hours. If it didn't look "just right" or stay in place, a tantrum would erupt. And his preoccupation with the vacuum cleaner was unreal. He was mainly mesmerized by the hose, and this created problems when Mommy needed to clean the carpets.
Up until about this point, Joey would eat just about anything: lima beans, squash, all meats, etc...Seemingly overnight I saw him transition from a well-rounded eater to a very picky eater. He even went through a phase where he would choke and gag on certain foods. There were several times when I had to use my finger to fish out whatever was causing him to choke.
I learned the entire scripts to Shrek, Monsters, Inc., and of course Toy Story...1 &2, thank you. He would watch them over and over and over...He knew by 2 yrs old how to play a dvd and rewind a video. Before anyone goes all "why do you let your kid watch so much tv?" on me, let me just state that he has never (except when he had the flu) just SAT in front of the tv. While he's watching, he's also playing, drawing, building, and even dramatizing. Anyway, his Pixar fixation only lasted until about age 3...then the ironic happened. But that's for a later time.
Joey absolutely loved bath time. He would request (pull me to the tub) baths sometimes in the middle of the day. And he didn't mind having his teeth brushed. He actually thought it was quite amusing. This may seem like useless information, but I promise you, you'll see the importance later in this blog.
Joey's day consisted mostly of running, jumping, and climbing....repeatedly. Fortunately, he never hurt himself. We attributed it to luck, but we would eventually figure out that luck had nothing to do with it....