It is still the first annual Cri du Chat Awareness week.
Which is appropriate because Olivia still has 5p- syndrome.
When I was fighting to figure out what was going on with Olivia and her lack of muscle tone, her near constant reflux, her obvious delays, I worried myself sick.
It didn’t matter that this was my second child and I knew how to take care of a baby. I was sure there was something I was doing wrong, that I’d gotten lucky while caring for Alyssa. I worried that there was something acutely wrong with Olivia and if I didn’t find answers, we might lose her.
That right there, that fear that she might have some sort of regressive disease, was what worried me the most.
So when we finally, finally got the 5p- diagnosis when she was two years old, I was relieved.
I hope that doesn’t sound like a slap in the face to other parents out there who were devastated by this diagnosis. I don’t mean it to be anything like that. Maybe if we’d received Olivia’s diagnosis in those early days, weeks, months of her life, I’d have felt that sick, lost sense.
Instead, we got it when she was older, after she’d wormed her way into our hearts. The 5p- didn’t matter so much as the relief that this syndrome is something she can live with.
I was relieved that she was a bad as she was going to get. This was what we got. I felt like at that point, there was nowhere to go but up.
It helped that we had an amazing doctor at our sides. She told me we were doing everything right. The therapies, the big sister, the involved parents and grandparents. Olivia was getting the best possible start.
There is no cure for 5p- syndrome. Doctors can’t go in and splice the missing chromosome back into her DNA.
But while there is no cure, there is life. There is love and there is growth. There is joy and laughter.
One of my first questions upon hearing the diagnosis was whether Olivia could pass the syndrome on to her own kids.
Her doctor looked a little startled by the question. I realize why now. But at that moment, it didn’t occur to me that Olivia might not be mentally capable of having children of her own.
The doctor gently informed me that Olivia has a 50% chance of passing the syndrome on to her children. She paused and continued with, “If she’s capable of caring for children of her own.”
Oh…that was when I realized that perhaps my dreams for my little girl might have to be adjusted just a little in light of this diagnosis.
And that’s okay. While I haven’t put those dreams to rest completely, I have let new dreams form, dreams of her growing up, graduating from high school, getting a job she enjoys, being happy.
That’s my greatest dream for both of my girls. I want them to be happy.
And when I watch Olivia swing on the swing set in our backyard each evening while Alyssa chases Orville across the grass, I know that happiness is absolutely in their reach, no matter what their chromosomes number. 5p- can’t take that away from us.
A mom, a dad and two daughters. We're living ordinary lives with a twist of 5p- (Cri du Chat) for spice. But we're about so much more than our younger daughter's genetic diagnosis.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Diving into Nine
As we move deeper and deeper into nine, I’m seeing that it’s really, really hard to be nine.
First, when you’re nine and your sister is five, it’s tough to deal with a REALLY annoying little sister. A sister who sings and talks and demands attention from the mother you adore. The mother you had to yourself until you were almost four years old and then, wham! Suddenly, there was this screaming baby who took her away from you. And since it’s still going on, it’s hard to keep the frustration at bay.
Another thing about being nine is that you want what you want when you want it but you’re old enough that people expect you to be patient, to be understanding, to wait your turn even when you don’t want to wait your turn.
Last Sunday Jaxon called Olivia to see if we were going to go to Grammy’s while he was there. Olivia squealed into the phone. Jaxon took this as a yes and handed the phone back to his Gram. She told me the boys (Jaxon, his dad and Mitch, my other brother) were there and they’d be there for another half hour.
Alyssa wanted to ride our bikes over. I explained to her that it would take us a half hour to get there on our bikes. Because of this, we were going to drive over and then we’d bike over later in the day.
She lost her nine year old mind. But only for a few minutes. She pouted, a few tears might have spilled out of her big blue eyes. She fretted and finally, I gently took her by the shoulders, made her look at me, told her to take a deep breath and asked her what was really bothering her.
She couldn’t articulate it. She just wanted to ride the bikes to Gram’s house.
I asked her if she understood that we would ride the bikes over later but if we actually wanted to see Jaxon, Jason and Mitchell, we needed to drive.
She shook her head dejectedly and went to brush her hair.
The issue was laid to rest but she was still a little pouty.
Because nine can be pouty. Nine can’t help the poutiness. Nine is on the cusp of something big but doesn’t quite understand what that big thing is.
Nine is old enough to have to clean out the cat’s litter boxes but isn’t quite old enough to set her own bedtime. Nine has to rinse her own dishes but has to ask permission to use the computer.
Nine is so confused by life in general and that leads to poutiness and irritation.
But nine still thinks her mom is awesome and the best parts of the day are when that annoying little pest of a sister is asleep and Mom and Nine can sit and talk or laugh or just have happy feet together while they watch television.
Nine gets to watch shows like Once Upon a Time and even the occasional episode of Grimm but Mom still won’t let Nine watch certain scenes from the latest movie in the Twilight Saga (consummating the marriage, anyone?)
Nine is hard and wants you to know that that little sister? She’s not nearly as special as everyone thinks she is. But she’ll defend that little sister to the ends of the earth if anyone else were to say such a thing. That’s a sentiment that is reserved for Nine alone.
First, when you’re nine and your sister is five, it’s tough to deal with a REALLY annoying little sister. A sister who sings and talks and demands attention from the mother you adore. The mother you had to yourself until you were almost four years old and then, wham! Suddenly, there was this screaming baby who took her away from you. And since it’s still going on, it’s hard to keep the frustration at bay.
Another thing about being nine is that you want what you want when you want it but you’re old enough that people expect you to be patient, to be understanding, to wait your turn even when you don’t want to wait your turn.
Last Sunday Jaxon called Olivia to see if we were going to go to Grammy’s while he was there. Olivia squealed into the phone. Jaxon took this as a yes and handed the phone back to his Gram. She told me the boys (Jaxon, his dad and Mitch, my other brother) were there and they’d be there for another half hour.
Alyssa wanted to ride our bikes over. I explained to her that it would take us a half hour to get there on our bikes. Because of this, we were going to drive over and then we’d bike over later in the day.
She lost her nine year old mind. But only for a few minutes. She pouted, a few tears might have spilled out of her big blue eyes. She fretted and finally, I gently took her by the shoulders, made her look at me, told her to take a deep breath and asked her what was really bothering her.
She couldn’t articulate it. She just wanted to ride the bikes to Gram’s house.
I asked her if she understood that we would ride the bikes over later but if we actually wanted to see Jaxon, Jason and Mitchell, we needed to drive.
She shook her head dejectedly and went to brush her hair.
The issue was laid to rest but she was still a little pouty.
Because nine can be pouty. Nine can’t help the poutiness. Nine is on the cusp of something big but doesn’t quite understand what that big thing is.
Nine is old enough to have to clean out the cat’s litter boxes but isn’t quite old enough to set her own bedtime. Nine has to rinse her own dishes but has to ask permission to use the computer.
Nine is so confused by life in general and that leads to poutiness and irritation.
But nine still thinks her mom is awesome and the best parts of the day are when that annoying little pest of a sister is asleep and Mom and Nine can sit and talk or laugh or just have happy feet together while they watch television.
Nine gets to watch shows like Once Upon a Time and even the occasional episode of Grimm but Mom still won’t let Nine watch certain scenes from the latest movie in the Twilight Saga (consummating the marriage, anyone?)
Nine is hard and wants you to know that that little sister? She’s not nearly as special as everyone thinks she is. But she’ll defend that little sister to the ends of the earth if anyone else were to say such a thing. That’s a sentiment that is reserved for Nine alone.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
International Cri du Chat Awareness Week
“Mom? Are we dirty little freaks?”
That’s the question Olivia asked me yesterday on the way home from the dentist last night.
It startled me at first, wondering where she’d picked up such a phrase. Then I realized it’s from a song by P!nk. We listen to a lot of music and, evidently, some of it is questionable for little ears.
And like most five year olds, Olivia takes everything in. Everything.
See, that’s the thing, she’s so much like most other five year olds that I sometimes forget that she’s supposed to be ‘special.’
This week is the first annual International Cri du Chat Awareness week. We’re hoping to educate people on this syndrome, also known at 5p-.
In fact, I usually refer to the syndrome as 5p- instead of Cri du Chat because I feel like the Cri du Chat name just indicates one symptom of the syndrome, the cat cry, that Olivia had as an infant. That symptom no longer exists in my girl.
She’s a thriving, growing, laughing, dancing, singing five year old who sounds no more like a cat than most other 5 year olds out there.
Yes, she’s missing part of her fifth chromosome. That deletion has caused her to have low muscle tone, which means she didn’t walk as young as typical kids. She also took a little longer to speak. But she does talk now. She talks and talks and talks and talks.
My daughter is a bright and funny and sweet as any other five year old out there. She can be just as stubborn and frustrating too.
She loves, she laughs, she lives.
She brings happiness to so many who have had the honor of knowing her. She’s special, because she’s unique, not because of her chromosomes. Her big sister, who has 42 intact chromosomes is just as unique and special.
We’re just your typical family, navigating school nights and dentist appointments (no cavities for either of them, whoohoo!!) and play dates and tantrums, just like most other families out there.
Please, before you judge, check out www.fivepminus.org and learn more about this syndrome. It affects every individual differently, to varying degrees.
I know how lucky we are that Olivia is doing as well as she is. She doesn’t have any of the medical issues that sometimes affect people with 5p-. I started this blog almost two years ago after attending a dance marathon at Purdue University in West Lafayette, Indiana.
After I’d told our story of Olivia’s birth and the issues we’d faced and how hard I had to fight to finally get her diagnosis when she was over two years old, a woman approached me. She gazed longingly at Olivia. She said that she had a friend who’d received the diagnosis of 5p- prenatally. She said doctors told her friend that her child would never walk, she’d never talk, she’d live in a vegetative state from birth on, that was if she survived birth at all. Her friend had been urged to terminate her pregnancy by every doctor she’d consulted.
This woman watched my daughter, who was three at the time, her hair cropped short because she’d been pulling the left side out for over a year, and she fought tears. Olivia was running around that dance marathon like she owned it. She was charming every person she met. She was laughing and dancing and living.
That’s the important thing. Olivia was living. She has such a huge life and there is no doubt about the quality of that life.
It breaks my heart that doctors are basing life and death decisions on old, outdated information. 5p- syndrome is not a death sentence, it is not a sentence to life in a vegetative state or even in a wheel chair, which, honestly, doesn’t have to be all bad either. With today’s therapies, our kids are stronger, healthier than ever.
Research it, find parents who are raising kids with the syndrome, see how much better it is than the doctors might tell you. Yes, there is stress, and pain sometimes but there is so much more joy than sorrow.
I promise.
Updated: The beautiful Tiffany created this amazing picture. It says it all.
Monday, May 14, 2012
So Big
Way back in September, I worked myself into tears while at work over the mere thought of Olivia climbing into a school bus and riding the whole four miles to school. This was even with her sister on the bus with her.
My how far we’ve come!
This morning I was getting ready and Olivia presented herself. “Look,” she demanded, pirouetting in front of me so I could get the full effect of her outfit.
Now, let me say right here that the clothes she was wearing were the ones I’d laid out for her but she’d found them herself (our routine is that I lay out the clothes for the week and bring each outfit into the bathroom where I’ll be showering. The girls find them on the counter each morning.) She’d taken off her jammies herself and then put on her clothes, from underwear to shorts, shirt and socks.
I’m so proud of how far Olivia has come.
I’m also proud of how far I’ve come from worrying about my little bitty girl to being able to see how grown up she is and wanting more for her. I love her newfound independence, her confidence in her own abilities.
These days I don’t worry nearly as much as she marches out the door to wait for the bus. I don’t worry about her having a potty accident at school (those are so few and far between that we often wonder if she’s not feeling well if they do occur.)
I can see her physical growth, the maturity in her face. She’s lost a lot of that baby look and looks more like a five year old, which makes sense, because, duh, she is five. But even last fall, she still looked so little.
Her confidence goes a long way toward making her look older. She’s more sure of herself, she knows she can do so much more than she knew last fall. She climbs stairs without help, alternating feet and keeping up with me as I carry laundry up and down the stairs.
She knows to put her milk back in the fridge after breakfast or dinner. She goes to the bathroom by herself to pee (yay!!!) and even poop sometimes.
My girl is growing up and I couldn’t be prouder. And sometimes, I think the only thing holding her back is me.
Yes, I do sometimes still baby her. But that’s because she lets me. Which still isn’t fair to her. But she’s so snuggly and rocking her to sleep gives us both a moment of comfort. So for all the maturing she’s doing, we’re both still holding onto some of our old, baby-like routines.
And that’s okay too. One milestone at a time.
My how far we’ve come!
This morning I was getting ready and Olivia presented herself. “Look,” she demanded, pirouetting in front of me so I could get the full effect of her outfit.
Now, let me say right here that the clothes she was wearing were the ones I’d laid out for her but she’d found them herself (our routine is that I lay out the clothes for the week and bring each outfit into the bathroom where I’ll be showering. The girls find them on the counter each morning.) She’d taken off her jammies herself and then put on her clothes, from underwear to shorts, shirt and socks.
I’m so proud of how far Olivia has come.
I’m also proud of how far I’ve come from worrying about my little bitty girl to being able to see how grown up she is and wanting more for her. I love her newfound independence, her confidence in her own abilities.
These days I don’t worry nearly as much as she marches out the door to wait for the bus. I don’t worry about her having a potty accident at school (those are so few and far between that we often wonder if she’s not feeling well if they do occur.)
I can see her physical growth, the maturity in her face. She’s lost a lot of that baby look and looks more like a five year old, which makes sense, because, duh, she is five. But even last fall, she still looked so little.
Her confidence goes a long way toward making her look older. She’s more sure of herself, she knows she can do so much more than she knew last fall. She climbs stairs without help, alternating feet and keeping up with me as I carry laundry up and down the stairs.
She knows to put her milk back in the fridge after breakfast or dinner. She goes to the bathroom by herself to pee (yay!!!) and even poop sometimes.
My girl is growing up and I couldn’t be prouder. And sometimes, I think the only thing holding her back is me.
Yes, I do sometimes still baby her. But that’s because she lets me. Which still isn’t fair to her. But she’s so snuggly and rocking her to sleep gives us both a moment of comfort. So for all the maturing she’s doing, we’re both still holding onto some of our old, baby-like routines.
And that’s okay too. One milestone at a time.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Hitting the Road
I got this for Mother's Day:
I will never be able to outdo Tom come June and Father's Day.
I've been looking at these bike trailers for months, thinking that the girls and I would greatly enjoy being able to go out for a bike ride whenever we want. But they're not cheap and I have a hard time spending money on something that feels indulgent.
But Tom didn't feel that way and on Friday afternoon, he couldn't stand the wait and surprised me with this. He'd had the bike for years but we rarely used it because Olivia hates bikes herself, she feels unsafe and exposed.
This? Is awesome! She loves being closer to the ground and that she can sit back there with a lunchbox of snacks, a book and a blanket, in the lap of luxury as Mom pedals her butt off (I hope that's the result.)
It was such a fantastic surprise!
Alyssa and I have strapped Olivia in and hit the road twice already and we've only had the bike-trailer combo for about 29 hours.
Seriously, this is the best Mother's Day gift EVER.
I will never be able to outdo Tom come June and Father's Day.
I've been looking at these bike trailers for months, thinking that the girls and I would greatly enjoy being able to go out for a bike ride whenever we want. But they're not cheap and I have a hard time spending money on something that feels indulgent.
But Tom didn't feel that way and on Friday afternoon, he couldn't stand the wait and surprised me with this. He'd had the bike for years but we rarely used it because Olivia hates bikes herself, she feels unsafe and exposed.
This? Is awesome! She loves being closer to the ground and that she can sit back there with a lunchbox of snacks, a book and a blanket, in the lap of luxury as Mom pedals her butt off (I hope that's the result.)
It was such a fantastic surprise!
Alyssa and I have strapped Olivia in and hit the road twice already and we've only had the bike-trailer combo for about 29 hours.
Seriously, this is the best Mother's Day gift EVER.
Friday, May 11, 2012
Safari Week
It’s been a fun week for the girls (O’s behavioral issues aside.) Their school has been celebrating Right to Read week and the theme has been Safari Week.
On Monday, Alyssa got to go to school with Crazy Hair. And because I’m THAT mom, we dyed the ends of her hair as well as her bangs red. Yes, it will be red through the end of the year. Big deal.
Tuesday was Wear Your Rain Gear (no umbrellas, please) day. They both wore rain boots and ponchos. Much fun was had boarding the bus that morning.
Wednesday the girls wore animal print clothes. Olivia had on a pair of zebra print pants and Alyssa’s shirt resembled the pelt of a leopard. Wild animals, indeed.
Yesterday they both wore khaki pants. Alyssa wore a shirt in camouflage print and O wore a light colored long-sleeved t-shirt beneath a vest we got from the zoo a couple of years ago. They were dressed as if they were going on a safari.
Today was class color day. Alyssa’s class color is red. She was decked out in red head (literally, considering her hair) to toe.
O’s class color is purple. She wore a bunch of purple.
I like these kinds of weeks. I like getting the girls excited about going to school, even if is about the fashion. It makes them want to get up in the morning and get ready.
We’ve had a few talks with O about her behavior and…we’re working on it. Her teacher and I have communicated and we’re trying to be consistent so O understands what is expected of her both at home and at school.
I want her to have fun but I also want her to understand that she has to work when she’s at school.
We attended a little program at the school last night that had a few wild birds, a monkey, some sort of wild cat and a couple of alligators. There was also a snake.
The kids could get their picture taken with the snake for $5. They could also pet the alligators for another $5. Since I’d already paid $5 for each of us to get into the program, we skipped the photos and the petting.
Alyssa was okay with that. She wants to be brave but she also knows her own limits and she had no desire whatsoever to stand near that boa constrictor and let it rest on her shoulders for even five seconds while a picture was snapped.
I think she is sort of in awe of the friends that do these things. The snake pictures were taken during intermission and A watched her friend S stand in line for a good ten minutes for her three seconds with the snake. A stood and watched the entire time, awed by the fact that S was going to touch a snake!
I try not to stress over my girls’ shyness. Yes, I worry if it seems to be disrupting their education (I’m not going to name names but this one’s name starts with an O and ends in livia.) but if it means they stand near my during a program instead of running around like a crazy person with their classmates?
I call that a win for me.
I know that Alyssa will outgrow her shyness. I did. By my senior year of high school, I was in two school plays, I’d been the drum major of the marching band for three years (this one time at band camp…) and I had a solid group of very good friends.
Alyssa will come into her own. No amount of pushing from me is going to make it happen faster or make the transition easier for her. I just listen and watch and sometimes, gently nudge if I think she’s on the edge of discovering some amazing interest or talent.
It’s what we do, we parents who adore our kids, quirks and all.
On Monday, Alyssa got to go to school with Crazy Hair. And because I’m THAT mom, we dyed the ends of her hair as well as her bangs red. Yes, it will be red through the end of the year. Big deal.
Tuesday was Wear Your Rain Gear (no umbrellas, please) day. They both wore rain boots and ponchos. Much fun was had boarding the bus that morning.
Wednesday the girls wore animal print clothes. Olivia had on a pair of zebra print pants and Alyssa’s shirt resembled the pelt of a leopard. Wild animals, indeed.
Yesterday they both wore khaki pants. Alyssa wore a shirt in camouflage print and O wore a light colored long-sleeved t-shirt beneath a vest we got from the zoo a couple of years ago. They were dressed as if they were going on a safari.
Today was class color day. Alyssa’s class color is red. She was decked out in red head (literally, considering her hair) to toe.
O’s class color is purple. She wore a bunch of purple.
I like these kinds of weeks. I like getting the girls excited about going to school, even if is about the fashion. It makes them want to get up in the morning and get ready.
We’ve had a few talks with O about her behavior and…we’re working on it. Her teacher and I have communicated and we’re trying to be consistent so O understands what is expected of her both at home and at school.
I want her to have fun but I also want her to understand that she has to work when she’s at school.
We attended a little program at the school last night that had a few wild birds, a monkey, some sort of wild cat and a couple of alligators. There was also a snake.
The kids could get their picture taken with the snake for $5. They could also pet the alligators for another $5. Since I’d already paid $5 for each of us to get into the program, we skipped the photos and the petting.
Alyssa was okay with that. She wants to be brave but she also knows her own limits and she had no desire whatsoever to stand near that boa constrictor and let it rest on her shoulders for even five seconds while a picture was snapped.
I think she is sort of in awe of the friends that do these things. The snake pictures were taken during intermission and A watched her friend S stand in line for a good ten minutes for her three seconds with the snake. A stood and watched the entire time, awed by the fact that S was going to touch a snake!
I try not to stress over my girls’ shyness. Yes, I worry if it seems to be disrupting their education (I’m not going to name names but this one’s name starts with an O and ends in livia.) but if it means they stand near my during a program instead of running around like a crazy person with their classmates?
I call that a win for me.
I know that Alyssa will outgrow her shyness. I did. By my senior year of high school, I was in two school plays, I’d been the drum major of the marching band for three years (this one time at band camp…) and I had a solid group of very good friends.
Alyssa will come into her own. No amount of pushing from me is going to make it happen faster or make the transition easier for her. I just listen and watch and sometimes, gently nudge if I think she’s on the edge of discovering some amazing interest or talent.
It’s what we do, we parents who adore our kids, quirks and all.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Notes from School
Sigh…
Let’s start with the good, shall we? Over the weekend, after a long day away from home, I was puttering around the kitchen, putting away the snacks we’d taken with us when Olivia called me to the bathroom.
I arrived to find her sitting on the toilet, her cushy tushy in place, her magazine opened on her lap, her step stool at her feet.
“I need you to clean me up,” she said, preparing to climb down from the toilet.
I glanced suspiciously at her underwear, suspecting nothing good would come of it. But they were clean.
She’d realized she needed to poop and went about the process in the appropriate manner. Go Olivia!!
My mom and I were lamenting just last week that we’re ready for the next stage in potty independence. Olivia has been pretty much accident-free at home for months and months now. But…she wants us to go into the bathroom with her even though she does it all herself. She just likes the company. And we’re sort of tired being her potty pal.
And we’re getting there. Slowly but surely. Baby steps and all that jazz.
Alas, all is not sunshine and roses in Olivia’s world.
This morning I was cleaning out Olivia’s backpack in preparation for school.
There was a note from her teacher.
To paraphrase, it said something like: Olivia is having trouble with behavior at school. She is refusing to perform requested tasks such as picking up after herself. She’s also taken to throwing papers on the floor and refuses to pick them up. I was wondering if you had any suggestions on how to motivate her.
Oh…do I wish I had some suggestions. I wish I knew what to say to her teacher.
I suggested that it’s the mood, the fact that there are only a couple more weeks of school left and she senses everyone’s underlying excitement over the coming summer break.
I wrote that Tom and I talked to Olivia about rules and respect and how she has to listen to her teacher when she tells her something.
It just occurred to me in the writing of this post that perhaps Olivia is FINALLY getting comfortable with her teachers. Maybe her behavior is a sign that she feels safe with them. Yes, that’s a good thing and yet…I’d rather she not be a brat just because she feels safe to do so.
I did state that O doesn’t behave that way at home. She’s pretty mild-mannered at home. She’s obsessive about keeping the trash can lid and the toilet lid down. Tom used that this morning to remind her that leaving paper on the floor is dirty and nasty just like she thinks leaving the toilet lid up is nasty.
We’ll see.
I have her IEP meeting in just under two weeks. I hope that O can hold out for the rest of the month. It’s almost over and she can have a summer to be wild and free.
Until next fall when we start the whole process over again.
Any advice from you veteran moms out there? How do you motivate your bigger kiddos to behave appropriately at school? I’m not sure O gets the idea of rules. Even if she gets it, I’m not sure she cares. This is the frustrating part.
What can I do to make her WANT to behave at school? How can I get her to want to do the work, put in the effort? Bribery? I’m all for it. I just have to find her thing, that one thing that she wants more than misbehaving…it’s probably going to be Barbie related and I’m okay with that as long as it works.
Punishment doesn’t really work for her. So…bribery it is, right? Unless anyone out there has any better ideas? I'm all ears (eyes?)
Let’s start with the good, shall we? Over the weekend, after a long day away from home, I was puttering around the kitchen, putting away the snacks we’d taken with us when Olivia called me to the bathroom.
I arrived to find her sitting on the toilet, her cushy tushy in place, her magazine opened on her lap, her step stool at her feet.
“I need you to clean me up,” she said, preparing to climb down from the toilet.
I glanced suspiciously at her underwear, suspecting nothing good would come of it. But they were clean.
She’d realized she needed to poop and went about the process in the appropriate manner. Go Olivia!!
My mom and I were lamenting just last week that we’re ready for the next stage in potty independence. Olivia has been pretty much accident-free at home for months and months now. But…she wants us to go into the bathroom with her even though she does it all herself. She just likes the company. And we’re sort of tired being her potty pal.
And we’re getting there. Slowly but surely. Baby steps and all that jazz.
Alas, all is not sunshine and roses in Olivia’s world.
This morning I was cleaning out Olivia’s backpack in preparation for school.
There was a note from her teacher.
To paraphrase, it said something like: Olivia is having trouble with behavior at school. She is refusing to perform requested tasks such as picking up after herself. She’s also taken to throwing papers on the floor and refuses to pick them up. I was wondering if you had any suggestions on how to motivate her.
Oh…do I wish I had some suggestions. I wish I knew what to say to her teacher.
I suggested that it’s the mood, the fact that there are only a couple more weeks of school left and she senses everyone’s underlying excitement over the coming summer break.
I wrote that Tom and I talked to Olivia about rules and respect and how she has to listen to her teacher when she tells her something.
It just occurred to me in the writing of this post that perhaps Olivia is FINALLY getting comfortable with her teachers. Maybe her behavior is a sign that she feels safe with them. Yes, that’s a good thing and yet…I’d rather she not be a brat just because she feels safe to do so.
I did state that O doesn’t behave that way at home. She’s pretty mild-mannered at home. She’s obsessive about keeping the trash can lid and the toilet lid down. Tom used that this morning to remind her that leaving paper on the floor is dirty and nasty just like she thinks leaving the toilet lid up is nasty.
We’ll see.
I have her IEP meeting in just under two weeks. I hope that O can hold out for the rest of the month. It’s almost over and she can have a summer to be wild and free.
Until next fall when we start the whole process over again.
Any advice from you veteran moms out there? How do you motivate your bigger kiddos to behave appropriately at school? I’m not sure O gets the idea of rules. Even if she gets it, I’m not sure she cares. This is the frustrating part.
What can I do to make her WANT to behave at school? How can I get her to want to do the work, put in the effort? Bribery? I’m all for it. I just have to find her thing, that one thing that she wants more than misbehaving…it’s probably going to be Barbie related and I’m okay with that as long as it works.
Punishment doesn’t really work for her. So…bribery it is, right? Unless anyone out there has any better ideas? I'm all ears (eyes?)
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