Growing up

This is going to be a memorable few months with changes aplenty afoot. As James gets closer to his fifth birthday, I am more aware than ever before of the years passing. He is growing so fast and the years just fly past - I still remember his third birthday, when we were stuck in a limbo between being concerned and having discussed autism and actually getting his final diagnosis. It is only because I have been through the process, I can truly understand what a difficult time that is for parents. I refused to celebrate his birthday - I felt we had so little to "celebrate" - his regression was hitting a peak (or so I thought - little did I realise it would continue for another 18 months albeit at a much slower rate) and I felt further and further removed from his life. I had my very being shattered - if I couldn't predict and pick up my own son's autism, then how could I do it in my professional life? How would I cope with being at work and doing on calls with an autistic child? How could I sit across the desk from a family, asking them questions about their children, knowing that their answers echoed my own? Some of these remain unanswered - I still regularly cry and admonish myself for not having recognised James' autism sooner. My husband asks me what good it would have done, what it would have changed, how it would have helped James or us, and I can't find a good enough answer. The truth is that no matter when he was diagnosed, his current level of understanding and achievement would be no different. But you can't help thinking....

So in the next few weeks we are hitting some pretty grown up milestones - James ought to start school (depending whether the LEA can identify a school for him....). Unlike nursery, where he was only accessing 2 hours a day (and I was only getting 2 hours time away from him) he will be going to school for a whole day at a time. I won't know what to do with myself! I have had a taster of the freedom this will bring as he's been at the playscheme at Kids Can Achieve two days a week over the holidays and I find myself amazed at how much Bea benefits from the time alone with me. I can actually do activities with her that she's missed out on, such as taking her swimming or going out for lunch. Impossible with James in tow or during his 2 hour nursery session. But I still wonder how we're all going to cope when James starts school - for a start, as he will be going on school transport, we'll have to have him ready for the bus before 8am! That's going to be quite a feat, I can tell you (sleep deprivation means that I am VERY sluggish in the mornings....). I have a sneaking suspicion that he will be shattered and end up falling asleep on the bus on the way home, which will be a disaster for us as he then won't go to bed until around 10pm. I'm going to have to do some preparatory work for that too. Packed lunch will be a joke - at Kids Can Achieve he rarely eats his lunch until we're in the car on the way home, so who knows what he'll do at school.....

Meanwhile, Bea is growing up too - she has started to show a distinct interest in toilet training and is running around in knickers most of the time. I find myself excited, pleased and sad all at the same time - she is certainly no longer a "baby" and I mourn that loss. Yet I know how frustrated I get about James' retention of infantile behaviour, so I can see I am contradicting myself! As it looks as though James will be out of school for the greater part of next term, I have taken the step of enrolling Bea in nursery - another huge step for both of us. She starts next week and will be a year and a half younger than James was when he first went to nursery! But I know it's for her benefit in the long run, as she needs role models and peers that don't have autism so she can learn acceptable behaviour from them as well as having the structure that the nursery will provide. It's going to be a busy weekend, sorting everything out....

Every cloud.....

They say truth is stranger than fiction and I know I couldn't have made up today's events. I think it's a fact of life that most children will sustain an injury that requires a trip to A&E at some point in life, but I always expected that it would be James I'd take first. He has no awareness of danger (his latest trick is to run away from us down the street when we take him out of the car in our drive) and is quite hypotonic (floppy) and so tends to trip and fall a lot. He has a high pain threshold and won't tell us when he's in pain (I can remember an incident when he was less than two when I found his toenail bleeding and hanging off when we were in a park and thinking how brave he was - this was before his formal diagnosis, and is just one of many little incidents that show me there were very subtle clues there before he "declared" his autism). But it seems that despite being the second born, Bea has found yet another "first" to outperform her older sibling - yes, she is the first of my offspring to sustain a broken bone. In fact, she's beaten me - I think my first fracture was when I was about 3, but I hope she doesn't follow in my tracks and continue to break another 10 plus bones. My last fracture was only about 6 months ago - I wish I could say I'd been running to save James from drowning or some such other heroics, but to my shame I was late on the nursery run and tripped over my own foot! Bea's story isn't particularly glamorous either - slipped on the kitchen floor, put her arms out to save her fall and broke her clavicle (collar bone). Considering it's been nearly two years since I last saw a patient, I was quite impressed with myself for identifying the cause of her screaming - even Mini Eggs wouldn't console her. My local A&E were very efficient (I did mention my training which helped bypass at least one doctor, I think) so we were out within 2 hours, having seen the orthopaedic consultant (I think I must be ageing rapidly - he looked far younger than me and I'm a long way off my consultant post!). She is currently tucked up in bed, dosed up on painkillers and looking like a princess - I've put a double duvet under her to cushion her as she's been screaming in pain all day.

It's events like this that really bring home how hard life with James really is. I think I'm a realist and know how much I do but it's so easy to get so involved in living your insular life that you forget how much you're adapting to your situation. There is no way I could have taken James with me to the hospital as he would never have coped there but equally I'd have found it impossible to leave him with anyone. Just as well it was the weekend, although my husband's plans for a morning of DIY were scuppered. Then this afternoon it's dawned on me how hard it will be to take the two of them on the nursery run - it's incredibly painful for Bea to be picked up and put in her car seat, which we need to do four times a morning. I can't ask anyone else to take James to and from nursery either, so I have had to ask my mum to come and visit to help out. Ironically, I have been exploring the possibility of getting the LEA to provide transport one day a week for James so I could go back to work - they've refused on the grounds we live too near (there's one direct bus that goes twice an hour and the times mean that Bea and the nanny would spend more time waiting for the bus/on the bus than at home). This is a rather dramatic way of getting transport though!

James was very "high" today - I am sure he could sense we were upset about Bea and the screaming didn't really help. Plus, he loves being outside and finds being stuck indoors on days like today really frustrating. When he's high he's really hard to engage with, running back and forth continually, spinning round and round, flapping and stimming and he finds it impossible to concentrate on anything. We tried most of our usual "tricks" but he wasn't having any of it. I was very glad when supper time came around as it meant bedtime (and with it a bit of peace) was round the corner. As Bea can't lift her arm, I gave her her glass of water with a straw and did the same for James. For the first time ever, he used the straw to blow through, something we worked on and gave up on last summer. So I brought out a bowl of water and washing up liquid and we spent a magical ten minutes blowing bubbles, splashing, popping, and the odd bit of drinking. So every cloud really does have a silver lining.