Seizures are a bitch. It's just that simple. These ugly and unwelcomed monsters come and go as they please and startle all who witness the vulgar visitor. And when these monsters decide to leave, only hateful remnants remain, like a badly bitten tongue and lost voices but in some cases, even worse. And of course, the fear... Fear for the next one that will inevitably come sooner or later, despite having no invitation to return. Seizures are only under control until the next time.
I wish these monsters would just choose to wrestle me instead of my sweet Oia. I guess emotionally, they kind of do. So admittedly, I've been a bit on edge in recent days but when the average record shifts from 2 seizures a year to 2 in 10 days, many emotions settle into a parent's heart. Worry and concern reside at the top.
Just ten days ago, Oia had her first daytime seizure. (All seizures prior have been nighttime seizures.) Had that particular day not been a canceled day of school due to inclement weather, Oia would have been in her classroom. Away from home. Away from me. That makes me uneasy. The second seizure in the 10 day period occured once she was asleep for the night. Both seizures were brief in duration, lasting up to a minute and a half, and both left her unable to speak for a short time afterwards. She tried but words wouldn't flow and lips didn't move.
The consensus is that this little spurt of activity is attributed to Oia's growth. We have followed orders and up'ed her Trilepal dose twice within the last two weeks and now it's a wait-and-see. Naturally, we hope this is the correct dose for now. We'll soon find out. In the meantime, I'm still watching her like a hawk, questioning her every move, analyzing her every look, kissing her sweet cheeks far too many times a day while asking Are you ok? and I'm still resting my hand on her chest every time I check on her throughout the night because yes, I did that long before any seizure monster came along... I think Momma's just do that regardless. But Oia will be alright. And things could always be much worse.
a blog about raising a daughter with cerebral palsy and learning unexpected lessons along the way
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Apples on Display
In early January, a note was sent home from the art department of Oia's school via her communication folder. A portion of it states:
This is to inform you that we have selected a work of art by Oia to be displayed at the State Capitol. It will appear in the General Assembly Building in Richmond, Virginia. We have put this show together and are sending it to Richmond at the request of Mr. Rob Bell, Delegate, 58th District, from the House of Delegates.
I had no idea what art of Oia's was chosen and frankly, I didn't care if it was absolutely created by her. It's likely the project was a joint effort between she and her assistant but that doesn't matter. What does matter, however, is that someone thought to include Oia, chose her art, and that in somewhere kind of important hangs a piece of work with her touch, and her name. There was no way we were going to miss its display.
So, our party of four said no to work and school one day last week and made our way to the state capital. We really talked up the venture with Oia making sure she felt special about the idea. Once we entered the General Assembly Building we were instantly enveloped by a sea of dark suited, hurried Delegates darting here, there and everywhere. Such a busy building with busy people but even men with places to go and people to see slow down, step aside and smile for little girls in pink coats wandering aimlessly in such grand hallways. We stuck out like sore thumbs that day.
Once we wove around in an attempt to not be in the way, we finally made it to the 8th floor and found Oia's apples hanging high. We ooh'ed and aah'ed made a big deal over her masterpiece. She wasn't all that into it though as the copier across the hall was far more intriguing. I mean, all those buttons.
Del. Rob Bell's assistant texted him to inform him that we were there and asked that we waited around a few minutes as he was heading in our direction to meet Oia and pose for a picture with her. Oia's anxiety kicked in during the short wait but with Rob holding her, she was tolerant for a quick picture.
I think these apples will find their way onto a wall in our new home one day soon. They'll be one of many "masterpieces" yet to come, I'm sure. So proud of our Kindergarten artist.
This is to inform you that we have selected a work of art by Oia to be displayed at the State Capitol. It will appear in the General Assembly Building in Richmond, Virginia. We have put this show together and are sending it to Richmond at the request of Mr. Rob Bell, Delegate, 58th District, from the House of Delegates.
I had no idea what art of Oia's was chosen and frankly, I didn't care if it was absolutely created by her. It's likely the project was a joint effort between she and her assistant but that doesn't matter. What does matter, however, is that someone thought to include Oia, chose her art, and that in somewhere kind of important hangs a piece of work with her touch, and her name. There was no way we were going to miss its display.
So, our party of four said no to work and school one day last week and made our way to the state capital. We really talked up the venture with Oia making sure she felt special about the idea. Once we entered the General Assembly Building we were instantly enveloped by a sea of dark suited, hurried Delegates darting here, there and everywhere. Such a busy building with busy people but even men with places to go and people to see slow down, step aside and smile for little girls in pink coats wandering aimlessly in such grand hallways. We stuck out like sore thumbs that day.
Once we wove around in an attempt to not be in the way, we finally made it to the 8th floor and found Oia's apples hanging high. We ooh'ed and aah'ed made a big deal over her masterpiece. She wasn't all that into it though as the copier across the hall was far more intriguing. I mean, all those buttons.
Del. Rob Bell's assistant texted him to inform him that we were there and asked that we waited around a few minutes as he was heading in our direction to meet Oia and pose for a picture with her. Oia's anxiety kicked in during the short wait but with Rob holding her, she was tolerant for a quick picture.
I think these apples will find their way onto a wall in our new home one day soon. They'll be one of many "masterpieces" yet to come, I'm sure. So proud of our Kindergarten artist.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
She Will Ride Many Miles
After a tragic diving accident left James, the son of Nancy Wellons, a quadriplegic, both he and Nancy began their journey into the world of AmTryke Cycles. From their venture into adaptive cycles grew their nonprofit corporation, Wheels on the James of Lynchburg. Since the two began in 2011, they have been able to provide over 90 cycles to deserving individuals with a physical challenge that prohibits them from riding a traditional bike.
Obviously, Oia is among the physically challenged. She/we have tried, over and over and over again for a long time, to ride a traditional bike. Even with various bike styles and modifications to the traditional bike, the challenge was too great for her. And dangerous. Oia sensed her own instability and often gave up. But, thanks to Wheels on the James, Oia is now one of the over 90 individuals who not only can safely sit atop their own adaptive cycle but can ride it, too.
To my 6 and a half year old, that's life changing.
I remember my first bike. The light blue bike with a light blue banana seat and high handle bars. I have memory of it shiny and new, being held up by the kickstand inside our garage, as we waiting for a snowy winter to fade and warmer spring days to emerge. I also remember the sense of independence and pride that bike gave to me once seated on it. It was my, MY, vessel from where I had the power and freedom to make choices of my own destination. It allowed me to roam carelessly throughout childhood while developing a healthy sense of confidence. Every now and then I'd kick my legs up or let go or seek a downhill ride. All because I could. And just for the thrill of it. I remember that feeling. And to know that Oia is getting a similar taste of something so sweet and so powerful to her developing young mind fills me up in a very good way.
The new cycle has been ours for just 3 days and for now, it lives inside. There is no time to wait on winter to fade away to warmer days as the wait for her to ride a bike of her own has been long enough. With a few smaller pieces of furniture pushed aside, there is a perfect track looping the downstairs of our home where Oia now rides, every morning before and after school, around and around and around... followed and slightly pushed by us. With just a short amount of practice, she has learned to propel on her own the length of a room. The first time I felt the guide handle pull from my hand and realized she was slowly inching forward on her own felt no different to me than the day she took her first independent steps. My eyes that well with happiness begin to overflow when my tiny, yet strong 6 year old looks up from her new bike and flashes the biggest Of-course-I-could-do-it-Mom! smile. Those are the prettiest of all her faces.
Thank you, Nancy, James, and Wheels on the James. Your selfless hearts are made of pure gold. Our summer just got more fun, because of you. Family bike rides are in our future now and biking at the park, with friends, is in Oia's future. No more watching. No more saying I wish we could find a bike that Oia could ride. You have provided our daughter, as well as many others before her, with a lot more than a bike. A whole lot more. And we are so very thankful. With each mile behind us, we will think of you.
Obviously, Oia is among the physically challenged. She/we have tried, over and over and over again for a long time, to ride a traditional bike. Even with various bike styles and modifications to the traditional bike, the challenge was too great for her. And dangerous. Oia sensed her own instability and often gave up. But, thanks to Wheels on the James, Oia is now one of the over 90 individuals who not only can safely sit atop their own adaptive cycle but can ride it, too.
To my 6 and a half year old, that's life changing.
I remember my first bike. The light blue bike with a light blue banana seat and high handle bars. I have memory of it shiny and new, being held up by the kickstand inside our garage, as we waiting for a snowy winter to fade and warmer spring days to emerge. I also remember the sense of independence and pride that bike gave to me once seated on it. It was my, MY, vessel from where I had the power and freedom to make choices of my own destination. It allowed me to roam carelessly throughout childhood while developing a healthy sense of confidence. Every now and then I'd kick my legs up or let go or seek a downhill ride. All because I could. And just for the thrill of it. I remember that feeling. And to know that Oia is getting a similar taste of something so sweet and so powerful to her developing young mind fills me up in a very good way.
The new cycle has been ours for just 3 days and for now, it lives inside. There is no time to wait on winter to fade away to warmer days as the wait for her to ride a bike of her own has been long enough. With a few smaller pieces of furniture pushed aside, there is a perfect track looping the downstairs of our home where Oia now rides, every morning before and after school, around and around and around... followed and slightly pushed by us. With just a short amount of practice, she has learned to propel on her own the length of a room. The first time I felt the guide handle pull from my hand and realized she was slowly inching forward on her own felt no different to me than the day she took her first independent steps. My eyes that well with happiness begin to overflow when my tiny, yet strong 6 year old looks up from her new bike and flashes the biggest Of-course-I-could-do-it-Mom! smile. Those are the prettiest of all her faces.
Thank you, Nancy, James, and Wheels on the James. Your selfless hearts are made of pure gold. Our summer just got more fun, because of you. Family bike rides are in our future now and biking at the park, with friends, is in Oia's future. No more watching. No more saying I wish we could find a bike that Oia could ride. You have provided our daughter, as well as many others before her, with a lot more than a bike. A whole lot more. And we are so very thankful. With each mile behind us, we will think of you.
Monday, February 3, 2014
Righting Righty
From the age of 9 months on, our girl has worn some form of a "dancin' shoe", "boot" or "glass slipper". The need for such orthotics has never changed but the function of each pair over the years certainly has. All that is missing from the following picture is her KiddieGait, which is a form of orthotic that can be handed-down once out-grown. We gladly passed it on.
Seems we are in a constant battle with Oia's tight right calf muscles. There are brief periods of time when we think we've caught up in the game with Botox or casting but the spastic Beast is really bigger than us. Our December bout with Botox followed by casting made very little gains to Oia's dynamic range but from a passive stand point, she is more relaxed. At least a little bit. In English, her ankle can be stretched and held at a neutral position of 90 degrees (while stationary) with relative ease. However, when in motion (walking or running) she is still positioned on her toes. The prolonged toe-walking, due to pulled and tight calf muscles of the right leg, has slowly worked her ankle into a precarious position. It's something we have been watchful over for a very long time.
Typical stance. Weight shifted to left side, flat left foot. Right heel up.
Typical right ankle position, sans AFO. Poor thing. Righty bears very little weight while stationary. (Left heel is slighly raised here only because she is reaching for chocolate.)
That poor ankle looks like a broken ankle waiting to happen. I cringe watching her walk barefoot even though I know Oia is in much more control over her body and limbs that it looks. But even still, the time has come for Righty to step out of the lower fitting orthotic and into a more supportive and taller brace. The taller brace doesn't keep her flat, but flatter, and that ankle is snug and more appropriately aligned which makes for a healthy change. And it makes sense. Oia's legs function differently from one another and both are in need of two very different braces to accommodate the need of each. Such a simple (temporary) solution for such a complex little body.
Oia has been using the new brace for about 2 weeks now and in true Oia fashion, she is tolerating it beautifully. Her gait is solid, and more stable now. This change in brace was the right recommendation. Her sweet feet will be in this arrangement of bracing until something changes again... because it always does. It's just a matter of when.
Seems we are in a constant battle with Oia's tight right calf muscles. There are brief periods of time when we think we've caught up in the game with Botox or casting but the spastic Beast is really bigger than us. Our December bout with Botox followed by casting made very little gains to Oia's dynamic range but from a passive stand point, she is more relaxed. At least a little bit. In English, her ankle can be stretched and held at a neutral position of 90 degrees (while stationary) with relative ease. However, when in motion (walking or running) she is still positioned on her toes. The prolonged toe-walking, due to pulled and tight calf muscles of the right leg, has slowly worked her ankle into a precarious position. It's something we have been watchful over for a very long time.
Typical stance. Weight shifted to left side, flat left foot. Right heel up.
Typical right ankle position, sans AFO. Poor thing. Righty bears very little weight while stationary. (Left heel is slighly raised here only because she is reaching for chocolate.)
That poor ankle looks like a broken ankle waiting to happen. I cringe watching her walk barefoot even though I know Oia is in much more control over her body and limbs that it looks. But even still, the time has come for Righty to step out of the lower fitting orthotic and into a more supportive and taller brace. The taller brace doesn't keep her flat, but flatter, and that ankle is snug and more appropriately aligned which makes for a healthy change. And it makes sense. Oia's legs function differently from one another and both are in need of two very different braces to accommodate the need of each. Such a simple (temporary) solution for such a complex little body.
Oia has been using the new brace for about 2 weeks now and in true Oia fashion, she is tolerating it beautifully. Her gait is solid, and more stable now. This change in brace was the right recommendation. Her sweet feet will be in this arrangement of bracing until something changes again... because it always does. It's just a matter of when.
Thursday, January 9, 2014
Christmas Break Favorites
Whew. We've been over the river and through the woods, to two grandparents' houses. Virginia to Ohio, and back again. Christmas and New Year's have been celebrated, family visits enjoyed. Car now unloaded, suitcases unpacked, laundry caught up and Christmas decorations neatly packed away until we tear into them again next year. School has resumed, sort of. Our county declared a "cold day" and canceled school just the second day back to reality, then delayed school the next. A first for me. Too cold for school? Um, ok. Anxious for our normal routine to return despite feeling an overwhelming need to make an escape from it all just a couple weeks ago. Breaks are nice. Sometimes routine is better.
In an attempt to make up for my absence here on this little loved space of mine, I leave you with a bit more than a few of my favorite photos from our Christmas break. Sadly though, I did a poor job of capturing my girls with family this time around... Trying to enjoy more of the moment means stepping out from behind my camera and photographing less. I'll continue to work on that balance.
But, here you go.
Rob, Esme, and I shared in the efforts to build Oia her own scooter board for Christmas. It's perfect. It's therapy laced with super fun play for our girl who doesn't really play with toys. She highly approves.
For weeks, Esme told everyone under the sun that she wanted a Caillou doll for Christmas. And a sucker. She could hardly wait for both. The kid almost died with excitment when she unwrapped that Caillou doll but don't you know she hasn't played with him for more than 5 minutes total since she got him. But, I'd still buy whatever toy she'd wish for next just to see this joy.
Cousins Colton, Oia and Callie. Esme wasn't feeling up to a picture at the moment her cousins and sister were. Naturally.
Christmas morning at Mamaw's. Little sister walking her new puppy.
At one point during our stay, Esme was quiet and temporarily missing for a moment. I asked Rob to walk down the hall and check on her. He came back out, grinning ear to ear, and asked where my camera was. There's just something about the way a toddler explores and plays that makes you want a toddler in the house forever. We will never take her imagination and independent play for granted.
Oia with her Aunt B. My beautiful sister. Two peas in a pod.
Snow is something I could live without. And Oia sides with me 100%. Which is why she attempted to catch *a* snowflake before heading back to the door inside. Total time outside? About 60 seconds.
Have sink, will play. And make one helluva soaking wet mess at NeNe's. Their bliss.
And even though I'm not a fan of the white stuff, our Esme loves it. So out we went another day. Precious little pink bundle, she is.
But nope. Couldn't convince this darling to come back outside and play. Not even for all the ice cream or chocolate in the world. She's no fool.
New Year's Eve made me feel especially old this year. I struggle to stay awake until midnight and I can't tell you when the last time hubby and I partied to ring in the new year. It's overrated. I don't care at all for modern music or Miley Cyrus and all her disgusting ways so watching the last 15 minutes of 2013 live on Times Square was torture. What was most enjoyable was peeking in on my peacefully sleeping girls. Both asleep well before midnight, side by side. My night was most complete when watching Oia through the darkness, who lifted her head ever so slightly off her pillow, then peeked through sleepy-slitted eyes over in her sister's direction. Her only purpose was to make sure Esme was still there. And she was. Oia then lowered her head and lifted her arm up and over to rest it on her sister. Then back asleep she fell. Esme never budged. That's what made my night. My day. My week. And my year. The world was celebrating the close of one year and the beginning of another but the world as each of my girls know it was just sound asleep next to the other. I pray their world is always this safe and cozy and full of love.
Happy New Year, friends. I'll be back soon.
In an attempt to make up for my absence here on this little loved space of mine, I leave you with a bit more than a few of my favorite photos from our Christmas break. Sadly though, I did a poor job of capturing my girls with family this time around... Trying to enjoy more of the moment means stepping out from behind my camera and photographing less. I'll continue to work on that balance.
But, here you go.
Rob, Esme, and I shared in the efforts to build Oia her own scooter board for Christmas. It's perfect. It's therapy laced with super fun play for our girl who doesn't really play with toys. She highly approves.
For weeks, Esme told everyone under the sun that she wanted a Caillou doll for Christmas. And a sucker. She could hardly wait for both. The kid almost died with excitment when she unwrapped that Caillou doll but don't you know she hasn't played with him for more than 5 minutes total since she got him. But, I'd still buy whatever toy she'd wish for next just to see this joy.
Cousins Colton, Oia and Callie. Esme wasn't feeling up to a picture at the moment her cousins and sister were. Naturally.
Christmas morning at Mamaw's. Little sister walking her new puppy.
At one point during our stay, Esme was quiet and temporarily missing for a moment. I asked Rob to walk down the hall and check on her. He came back out, grinning ear to ear, and asked where my camera was. There's just something about the way a toddler explores and plays that makes you want a toddler in the house forever. We will never take her imagination and independent play for granted.
Oia with her Aunt B. My beautiful sister. Two peas in a pod.
Snow is something I could live without. And Oia sides with me 100%. Which is why she attempted to catch *a* snowflake before heading back to the door inside. Total time outside? About 60 seconds.
Have sink, will play. And make one helluva soaking wet mess at NeNe's. Their bliss.
And even though I'm not a fan of the white stuff, our Esme loves it. So out we went another day. Precious little pink bundle, she is.
But nope. Couldn't convince this darling to come back outside and play. Not even for all the ice cream or chocolate in the world. She's no fool.
New Year's Eve made me feel especially old this year. I struggle to stay awake until midnight and I can't tell you when the last time hubby and I partied to ring in the new year. It's overrated. I don't care at all for modern music or Miley Cyrus and all her disgusting ways so watching the last 15 minutes of 2013 live on Times Square was torture. What was most enjoyable was peeking in on my peacefully sleeping girls. Both asleep well before midnight, side by side. My night was most complete when watching Oia through the darkness, who lifted her head ever so slightly off her pillow, then peeked through sleepy-slitted eyes over in her sister's direction. Her only purpose was to make sure Esme was still there. And she was. Oia then lowered her head and lifted her arm up and over to rest it on her sister. Then back asleep she fell. Esme never budged. That's what made my night. My day. My week. And my year. The world was celebrating the close of one year and the beginning of another but the world as each of my girls know it was just sound asleep next to the other. I pray their world is always this safe and cozy and full of love.
Happy New Year, friends. I'll be back soon.
Monday, December 9, 2013
Two Things
Tonight, just two things. Oh, there's always more but tonight just two will do.
First. We were able to get Oia scheduled for a round of Botox and casting. The procedure took place one week ago and now just two more weeks remain of the "boot", as Oia calls it. Aside from a very achy first 24 hours, she has done remarkably well this first week. It's never easy to tell the benefits of such a procedure while the cast is still on so it makes us even more anxious for the final removal. Seeing her heel just a little closer to the ground, with her knee slightly straighter, is all the Christmas I'll need.
And second. I alluded previously that there was a "big deal" thing our family might soon be thankful for. Now, it's safe to announce there is. After more than 2 years of Rob diligently yet patiently looking for land that our family could dig our roots into, we have finally found and closed on a 2.5 acre slice of rural mountain land. New county. Better school district. Slightly closer to Rob's work and Oia's therapies. So, onto a private gravel road, over a railroad track, around the bend, and down our wooded lane will soon be a single story home designed with our family's needs in mind. A place where one of our two girls will likely dwell well into adulthood. Or maybe not. But we feel so blessed to have the option of planning for this future now and *I* feel so blessed to have a husband that selflessly provides for our family in great and many ways. Guys, 2014 will be the year to clear some land and build a home! And it will also be the year for making (and documenting) some amazing memories along the way, too!
First. We were able to get Oia scheduled for a round of Botox and casting. The procedure took place one week ago and now just two more weeks remain of the "boot", as Oia calls it. Aside from a very achy first 24 hours, she has done remarkably well this first week. It's never easy to tell the benefits of such a procedure while the cast is still on so it makes us even more anxious for the final removal. Seeing her heel just a little closer to the ground, with her knee slightly straighter, is all the Christmas I'll need.
And second. I alluded previously that there was a "big deal" thing our family might soon be thankful for. Now, it's safe to announce there is. After more than 2 years of Rob diligently yet patiently looking for land that our family could dig our roots into, we have finally found and closed on a 2.5 acre slice of rural mountain land. New county. Better school district. Slightly closer to Rob's work and Oia's therapies. So, onto a private gravel road, over a railroad track, around the bend, and down our wooded lane will soon be a single story home designed with our family's needs in mind. A place where one of our two girls will likely dwell well into adulthood. Or maybe not. But we feel so blessed to have the option of planning for this future now and *I* feel so blessed to have a husband that selflessly provides for our family in great and many ways. Guys, 2014 will be the year to clear some land and build a home! And it will also be the year for making (and documenting) some amazing memories along the way, too!
Friday, November 22, 2013
This, That, and a Playdate
Life is rolling right along. Funny the way that happens regardless of whether the present is good, bad, or status quo. Life goes on and thankfully so. Aside from a few hiccups regarding Kindergarten, it's all pretty good over here. Just a few little things worth sharing...
Kindergarten. I'll keep it in a nutshell, or try to anyways. So as you know, Oia began Kindergarten in a general education classroom which is considered full inclusion. We demanded it be that way with any and all proper modifications. She was set to receive collaborative SPED instruction for 1 hour/day (30 minutes for literacy and 30 minutes for math) in her classroom by a collaborative SPED teacher. With that explained, the school year all along has never felt right for various reasons. Oia's teachers and assistant have struggled to understand Oia and her academic needs and often I'd consider the efforts as weak or minimal. Oia wasn't learning and through my observations, she was just a student led through the motions by mainly the assistant. Staff efforts, in my opinion, fell under the "needs improvement" category. There is nothing "collaborative" about a teacher sitting with Oia at a small table in the back of the room, behind a tri-fold divider. Oia disliked it and her behavior with this "collaborative" teacher was quite defiant. Ultimately, Oia's team proposed to remove her from her general education classroom and place her for all hours of the school day into the SPED self-contained classroom. This goes against our beliefs entirely but after some "negotiating", Rob and I agreed to allow Oia 1 hour of SPED literacy instruction and 45 minutes of SPED math instruction in the self-contained classroom BUT the remainder of her school day must be spent in her regular education classroom (with proper modifications) with her typically developing peers who have now become her friends. The schedule change eliminates Oia's interaction with the "collaborative" teacher, thus part of our deciding factor in allowing some placement changes. Oia has seamlessly transitioned into her new schedule this week and she is shining. Lovely notes are coming home and Oia says she is "happy". Sometimes it's less about the classroom your child is in and more about the people who work with and teach your child. The fit must be good for Oia and it feels right to me, too. We're going with it because when Oia is happy, so am I.
Ortho. We moved Oia's ortho appointment from early in the new year to this week because the tightness in her right leg is currently of great concern. The tightness is beginning to jeopardize her overall stability and ankle alignment. Intervention is upon us and we didn't want to wait until January. We prepared ourselves with the idea that another surgery might be the suggestion, or remedy, to the current tightness. However, it's only been 2 and a half years since Oia underwent lengthening surgery and her doctor says it's just too soon to go through another one again. More surgery means more scar tissue and until Oia is done growing, the idea of surgery isn't necessarily the best one (if it can be avoided). This is the ugly game cerebral palsy makes us play. Grow, get tighter, choose best method to alleviate tightness, and repeat. Right now, best method seems to be a combined approach of Botox and casting (not a method we have done together yet, but seperately). With any luck, we can work in the Botox procedure and the subsequent 3 week casting period all before Christmas. And with any further luck, it will help our girl move with a little more ease and comfort.
A playdate. Our girl had her first one! H and Oia are mutual BFF's and I consider the relationship that these two have as classmates to be a prayer answered. H begged for a playdate with Oia and we made it happen. The two of them got messy making pizzas together that neither wanted to eat because no one was willing to stop playing long enough to take a bite. It was 3 hours of little girl bliss for H and Oia and 3 hours of "Oh my god, I can't believe this is happening but I'm so darn glad it is!" for me. It's a friendship made between two girls who chose to be friends. No family connection, or influence, because of the special needs community we often find ourselves in, but two girls who simply connected. For no other reason than that, they wanted to be friends. And so they are. That's pretty awesome.
So, the Kindergarten kinks have been ironed out (for now), hoping Botox will allow our girl some relief, and in the meantime, we will all just play the day away. We do that well around here. And if all goes as planned, we'll have one kind-of-a-big-deal thing to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. Stay tuned.
Kindergarten. I'll keep it in a nutshell, or try to anyways. So as you know, Oia began Kindergarten in a general education classroom which is considered full inclusion. We demanded it be that way with any and all proper modifications. She was set to receive collaborative SPED instruction for 1 hour/day (30 minutes for literacy and 30 minutes for math) in her classroom by a collaborative SPED teacher. With that explained, the school year all along has never felt right for various reasons. Oia's teachers and assistant have struggled to understand Oia and her academic needs and often I'd consider the efforts as weak or minimal. Oia wasn't learning and through my observations, she was just a student led through the motions by mainly the assistant. Staff efforts, in my opinion, fell under the "needs improvement" category. There is nothing "collaborative" about a teacher sitting with Oia at a small table in the back of the room, behind a tri-fold divider. Oia disliked it and her behavior with this "collaborative" teacher was quite defiant. Ultimately, Oia's team proposed to remove her from her general education classroom and place her for all hours of the school day into the SPED self-contained classroom. This goes against our beliefs entirely but after some "negotiating", Rob and I agreed to allow Oia 1 hour of SPED literacy instruction and 45 minutes of SPED math instruction in the self-contained classroom BUT the remainder of her school day must be spent in her regular education classroom (with proper modifications) with her typically developing peers who have now become her friends. The schedule change eliminates Oia's interaction with the "collaborative" teacher, thus part of our deciding factor in allowing some placement changes. Oia has seamlessly transitioned into her new schedule this week and she is shining. Lovely notes are coming home and Oia says she is "happy". Sometimes it's less about the classroom your child is in and more about the people who work with and teach your child. The fit must be good for Oia and it feels right to me, too. We're going with it because when Oia is happy, so am I.
Ortho. We moved Oia's ortho appointment from early in the new year to this week because the tightness in her right leg is currently of great concern. The tightness is beginning to jeopardize her overall stability and ankle alignment. Intervention is upon us and we didn't want to wait until January. We prepared ourselves with the idea that another surgery might be the suggestion, or remedy, to the current tightness. However, it's only been 2 and a half years since Oia underwent lengthening surgery and her doctor says it's just too soon to go through another one again. More surgery means more scar tissue and until Oia is done growing, the idea of surgery isn't necessarily the best one (if it can be avoided). This is the ugly game cerebral palsy makes us play. Grow, get tighter, choose best method to alleviate tightness, and repeat. Right now, best method seems to be a combined approach of Botox and casting (not a method we have done together yet, but seperately). With any luck, we can work in the Botox procedure and the subsequent 3 week casting period all before Christmas. And with any further luck, it will help our girl move with a little more ease and comfort.
A playdate. Our girl had her first one! H and Oia are mutual BFF's and I consider the relationship that these two have as classmates to be a prayer answered. H begged for a playdate with Oia and we made it happen. The two of them got messy making pizzas together that neither wanted to eat because no one was willing to stop playing long enough to take a bite. It was 3 hours of little girl bliss for H and Oia and 3 hours of "Oh my god, I can't believe this is happening but I'm so darn glad it is!" for me. It's a friendship made between two girls who chose to be friends. No family connection, or influence, because of the special needs community we often find ourselves in, but two girls who simply connected. For no other reason than that, they wanted to be friends. And so they are. That's pretty awesome.
So, the Kindergarten kinks have been ironed out (for now), hoping Botox will allow our girl some relief, and in the meantime, we will all just play the day away. We do that well around here. And if all goes as planned, we'll have one kind-of-a-big-deal thing to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. Stay tuned.
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