Today's Tourette's Tidbit - Observations
Today, The Boy went to his play therapist. We love his therapist. ML rocks. He's a Christian counselor who, I believe, specializes in children's play therapy. The Boy actually gets very upset if we have to miss sessions with him.
Today, ML verified that he feels The Boy is making all sorts of progress (this was noted by his psychiatrist a couple of weeks back). His social interactions are within normal parameters - that's according to the non-scientific mom here. I mean, the few things I'm aware of are things you would see with other children who have never been diagnosed with anything more severe than a cold.
The thing I'm excited about is, ML feels I am a candidate for filial play therapy. According to aHealth.com, "Filial therapy is an alternative method for treating emotionally disturbed children in which the parent is used as an ally in the therapeutic process." ML explained that he would train me. He warned me it is exhausting and takes dedication and lots of energy. I guess it can be very difficult for the parent to learn to do play therapy because you have to detach yourself from the parental role. As the parent, you'll want to direct, analyze, question, etc. The whole point of non-directive play therapy is to allow the child to do pretty much anything in play in order to express their emotions through the objects with which they are most familiar and comfortable - toys. ML has explained enough to me so that I know that seemingly simple play actions can carry all sorts of messages, red flags, or emotions that the children don't even know they're having. It really is amazing.
ML said that he can't suggest this to every parent. A potential candidate parent must be a very present parent. This made me laugh inside because, lately, with how wrapped up I've been in my own stupid problems, I haven't felt very present for The Boy or Lil Bro. But thankfully, ML sees beyond my immediate situation and knows that I would do anything for these boys. The added benefit is, if I learn how to do this, I can also do it with Lil Bro. I haven't gotten Lil Bro into therapy because A) I've been assuming (and praying) that he doesn't need it and B) I don't have the money to put 2 boys in therapy every week. I am counting on God to minimize the risk here.
So I'm going to try to get into the next series of classes ML will offer. I love thinking I might be able to participate in The Boy's therapy. It's very hard to send them behind closed doors where you can only know little tidbits. It's a hard trust to have.
...And now on to the Keck part...
I just got a kick out of the word "keck". I was looking up synonyms for "vomit". That one caught my eye. It really describes more of a nausea or attempt at throwing up rather than actual vomiting. But what a fun word!
Just a fun little bit of my day:
Lil Bro went to day care today as normal. I heard no reports of anything odd when we picked him up. He was energetic and playful. When his father dropped him off (he was with daddy while I took The Boy to counseling), he asked for pancakes. The Boy made himself a sandwich so I mixed up some pancakes for the wee little man. As I was about to flip the 4th one, I went to the couch to ask Lil Bro if he wanted jelly on them. He informed me he didn't want them. What?! I just made them for you (slaving to pour the mix & water into a bowl and cooking four whole pancakes!!!). His answer was, "But I have a cough." Right. Note to self: If you have a cough, evidently you are not able to eat pancakes. I said, [Lil Bro], you can eat pancakes if you have a cough (in my "you silly boy" voice). At that, he decided to demonstrate. So he gives a coupe of the fakest little coughs I've ever heard - hand up to his mouth. And then it began. The Font Du Vomit. I mean, it was just SURPRISE! Puke everywhere - all over him, all over the couch! I grabbed him, ran to the small bathroom, placed him in front of the toilet and let it run its course.
Honestly, I have to tell you, I have NO idea how all that came out of him FIT in him in the first place. Have you ever seen the cherry pit vomit scene in The Witches of Eastwick? It's just what came to mind. Or any Saturday Night Live fake vomit scene I've ever seen. It just looked fake. Like a giant hose was attached to the side of his face and I just couldn't see it. It was amazing. The stuff of movies. I wouldn't have believed it had I not been standing there trying to not wretch myself. Oh the smell. Gah! The poor little guy took it like a pro. I have held the hair of much wimpier puking adults, let me tell you. He would just stand there, gasping for breath and then turn his face back to the toilet and GRAAAAUUUUUGGGGHHHHH! Then he'd stand straight and gulp a few more breaths. The poor kid had it coming out of his NOSE. Aren't you all just loving my descriptive nature right about now?
Now, as I stood there watching my puke covered toddler, thinking about the puddle soaking in to my nice micro-fiber couch, knowing I needed to strip the soaked clothes from him once he was done and get him into a bath...that whole "I really hate being a single mom" feeling crept in. Future ex had just left for a walk around our development (his hotel isn't in a good walking area). I could probably catch him and make him live up to all of those promises of "Look, if one of the kids starts throwing up in the middle of the night - I don't care what time - you call me and I'll be there." Ok superman. Put your money where the puke is. So I called his cell. No answer. A few choice swears. Run back to check on puking toddler. Tell puking toddler to stay in the bathroom even though Sponge Bob is still on the TV. Call future ex again - no answer. Run stick a note saying "I need help! Don't leave!!!" on his windshield and curse the volume on his MP3 player.
Well, I peeled the soaked clothes off Lil Bro. I got him into a bath - crying the whole time. I washed him. I dressed him. I rinsed the puke off his clothes and got them in the washer. I was just starting on the couch and then the hero shows up. Yah, thanks for the help, bud. But it was nice to have another helping hand there. He distracted Lil Bro. Comforted him. He helped me clean the couch. He went and got me food (I wasn't cooking after all of that).
So that was my night. I am thanking God for Febreze. And I am thanking him for allowing Lil Bro to hold down ice water and very watered down juice. He had been sitting on the couch, all pale, watching Sponge Bob. I was at the computer and he was talking to me and just stopped. I turned around to find him face down on the couch - sound asleep. I have prayed for a full night's sleep for all of us.
Keck. Ha ha ha! That just makes me giggle.