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JusJoJan 26 – It’s the Little Things

While there are large things in life that cause stress, like selling your mother’s condo whilst trying to maintain your own home, keep your family reasonably comfortable and happy and hanging on to your sanity (yes, I’m making this about you, because if I don’t I may realize what seventh circle of purgatory I’ve landed myself in), sometimes it’s the little things which finally make you snap.

Like when you take your kid for a haircut and the barber grazes the back of his neck with the trimmer and oh my Lord it’s the end of the world. He gets home, strips off his shirt and wraps himself in a fleece blanket that he refuses to take off even when he goes to bed that night, waking himself up at 2:47 (and you with him) because he’s so tangled up in coverings and the next day you find yourself applying Polysporin to a pink-tinged area that (point to it again? I can’t find it.) is so minute but he still refuses to wear a shirt over.

And then! And then! later when he’s almost forgotten about the agony he’s in over his haircut and he’s helping your mother wash the dishes (he’s washing, she’s drying) and he’s all done and putting the Tupperware bucket upside down on top of the clean dishes in the dish rack and your mother is taking it off to get to the dishes that HAVE to be dried and your kid is putting it back on and she’s taking it off (because by this time your mother’s OCD is battling to the death with your kid’s OCD) and he’s putting it back on and screaming and she’s taking it off and yelling at him in a language he can’t even hear (because he’s Deaf) let alone understand and all you want to do is run away from home…

…because it’s the little things that finally do you in…

JJJ 2015

This crazy slice of YOUR life was brought to you in conjunction with none other than Just Jot It January. Click on the link and join in today – only 6 days left! https://lindaghill.com/2015/01/01/just-jot-it-january-pingback-post-and-rules/

 


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Stream of Consciousness Saturday – Ages (Can’t Keep ’em Separated)

Today is one of those rare days when I have no idea what I’m going to type. So I’ve decided to type into my thoughts rather than type what I’m already thinking.

The coffee is hot, the morning is pleasant as I sit at my kitchen table, watching the squirrels in my back yard search for places to hide their nuts. One, I see, has been in my flower pot. Ah well, the flower’s already dead.

I’m supposed to me talking about age. I remember a time when there was no way I’d have been content to just sit at the table and watch the squirrels. But we go through phases, don’t we? So energetic when we’re young. I consider myself lucky to still have energy – to be able to move with close to the ease I was able ten years ago, though the aches and pains seem to linger longer… linger longer. That’s just weird. Anyway, where was I?

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Fred, as crazy old Maurice from Beauty and the Beast

In four short days I’ll no longer have three teenagers – my eldest, Fred, turns twenty years old on the 2nd of September. That tiny little baby I used to hold and rock to sleep to the beat of heavy metal (he LOVED The Offspring’s Keep ‘Em Separated. With Chris it was anything Metallica, and Alex, well, he’s Deaf. As long as it had a beat…) now drags himself through the door at all hours of the morning after partying with his friends. Has much changed? Nah.

 

This was posted as part of SoCS. Find the rules at the click of the link and join in! https://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2014/08/29/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-august-3014/

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

 


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Stream of Consciousness Saturday – Now I’m Here

I’m here. I’m always here. But aren’t we all? Where else would we be but here?

Here, for me, is usually my living room couch with my laptop on my lap. At least when I’m at rest. And by ‘at rest’ I mean working, because working on my novels, whether writing or editing is right up there with relaxing with a good book. I may call it working but to me it’s nothing like work.

Back to the ‘here.’ There is a marked difference between being here and sitting next to Alex than there is being here when he’s at his dad’s. I’m afraid, most of the time, to allow myself to concentrate on my work. There’s nothing worse than being wrenched out of it by someone demanding something of me. It’s like laying down for a nap when you know the phone will probably ring. What’s the use?

Not only that, but the difference in noise is also a factor. When I’m alone I can put my music on–when I’m writing or editing it’s always the Japanese band, Buck-Tick–but when Alex is here I’m usually listening to him sing. And by singing I mean a long, drawn out single note, because he’s Deaf and doesn’t understand that singing means more than one sound. The good news is, he can watch TV and play video games with the sound off and he doesn’t know the difference. At least I don’t have to listen to Dora the Explorer all day long.

So here I sit, now trying to decide if I should take the plunge or just give up on the idea of working for the day. It’s stressful not to work.

Especially when Buck-Tick is playing.

 

This post is part of SoCS: https://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2014/08/01/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-august-214/  Click the link to see how you too can join in!


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Gearing Up For A Challenge

Ah, I do love a good challenge. It’s just as well, when you think of it: my entire life is one big challenge. I remember saying to myself, before my son Alex was born, I’m in such a rut. I need some excitement in my life! Now THAT was a lesson in being careful what you wish for, right there. Between surgeries, deafness, feeding issues, pneumonias and meanwhile trying to run a business, the first eight months of his life were anything but boring. But I digress. For what I have coming up in the month of April is nothing, by comparison.

Yes, the A-Z Challenge. Since I’m going to write about writing, I thought why not extend the challenge and write a fiction piece a day to illustrate the article I post here? It’s only twice the amount of work, after all! And besides, there’s no reason I shouldn’t show rather than just tell…right?

We’ll see how far I get.

For now, I’m attempting to put all my accumulated notes in alphabetical order. It only seems to make sense, and why put it off? I’ll have enough to do, starting tomorrow.

Don’t you love a challenge? How will you be challenging yourself in the upcoming month?


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At a Loss for Words

Where’s your communication book? I’ll ask your teacher to tell you.

It’s the most common phrase that is signed in my household, aside from, I love you, and Go to sleep already.

The problem is, of course, that my son Alex doesn’t ‘speak’ the same language as I do, and sometimes I’m the one at a huge disadvantage. I, whose life consists of putting words together to make meanings clear, am unable to communicate with my own offspring. What kind of sick force in the universe came up with this irony?

Tonight I had to try to explain to Alex why he wasn’t able to eat from my plate. It’s something that I allow him to do on occasion–not something I allowed my other two sons to do–since he doesn’t eat much more than one piece of anything, being that he’s tube fed. But now, since I’m not sure I’m completely over this bug, it’s a no-no. Germs are not something I often talk about, and so once again I’m faced with my lack of knowledge, and my incompetence in being fluent in American Sign Language.

Can you fathom the frustration at not being able to say the simplest of things? With a hearing child, the conversation would be over in four or five sentences. “I’m sick, and if you eat from my plate you might get sick. Why? Because there are these things called germs – tiny things like bugs crawling around in my food. You still want some? I thought not.”

Instead? It’ll have to wait until tomorrow.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m grateful that I have the resource of the Deaf school to back me up when I need it, and especially that they are teaching my son to communicate with his peers. What scares me are the stories I was told by a few different Deaf people of their hearing families – that they grew apart. The Deaf have their own community. In fact “Deaf” is capitalized when the word is used to describe a person in the same way American is – because it denotes that very community.  It’s only by virtue of the fact that Alex has a global intellectual delay that I might have to care for him well into adulthood.

In the meantime, I’ll keep trying to learn his language. Because once he’s twenty-one and has to leave school, I won’t have a communication book to write in. And I’ll be at a complete loss for words.


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Seeing Pink – Stream of Consciousness Saturday (Colour)

It happened again yesterday. I was sitting in a Tim Horton’s with my mother and Alex (my youngest son who is Deaf and doesn’t eat much by mouth – he’s g-tube fed), and my mother and I were eating and drinking coffee. Alex, in his usual sociable way was looking around and smiling and waving at the other customers. Beside us were a pair of elderly ladies. They were enamoured of Alex, which is par for the course.

One of them observed Alex as he took his Timbit (a doughnut hole, for those of you who haven’t been in a Tim Horton’s in the last 20 years) and put it back in the bag. He wasn’t really interested in eating it as I knew he wouldn’t be. He just likes me to buy him something so he doesn’t feel left out… and at 20cents, I can’t complain.

The ensuing conversation went something like this:

Lady#1: Isn’t he going to eat that?

Me: No, he’s not hungry.

Lady#2: He’s very cute.

Me: And he knows it.

Lady#1: Maybe he’d like something else. A sundae maybe?

Me: (thinking ‘I’m glad he can’t hear you.’) No, he’s okay.

Lady#1: (to Alex) Aren’t you hungry?

Me: (signing to Alex) Are you hungry? (note: I could have signed ‘Are you a chicken?’ to ensure he’d say no, but his laugh would have given me away)

Alex: (shakes his head, no.)

Me: (to Lady#1) Nope, he’s not hungry.

Lady#2: How old is he, six?

Me: No, he’s 13.

Lady#1: Does he know sign language?

Me: (thinking ‘No, we just flail at one another and hope for the best’) Yes, he does.

Lady#1: Isn’t that nice. (She then proceeds to perform the sign for ‘please’.) “Love,” she says to Alex.

Lady#1: (to Lady #2) That means ‘love.’ (she signs ‘please’ again.)

Alex: (smiles and nods even though he’s totally confused)

Having strangers tell you to feed your child, in front of your child, makes me see red on the best of occasions. But I’ve gotta say, this one was amusing enough that I only saw pink.

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This week’s prompt – “Colour.”

SoCS rules:

1. Your post must be stream of consciousness writing, meaning no editing, (typos can be fixed) and minimal planning on what you’re going to write.

2. Your post can be as long or as short as you want it to be. One sentence – one thousand words. Fact, fiction, poetry – it doesn’t matter. Just let the words carry you along until you’re ready to stop.

3. There will be a prompt every week. I will post the prompt here on my blog on Friday, along with a reminder for you to join in. The prompt will be one random thing, but it will not be a subject. For instance, I will not say “Write about dogs”; the prompt will be more like, “Make your first sentence a question,” or “Begin with the word ‘The’.”

4. Ping back! It’s important, so that I and other people will come and read your post! The way to ping back, is to just copy and paste the URL of my post somewhere on your post. Then your URL will show up in my comments, for everyone to see. For example, in your post you can copy and past the following: “This post is part of SoCS: (https://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2014/03/01/socs-stream-of-consiousness-saturday-the-rules/)” Also, you can come here and link your post in the comments. The most recent comments will be found at the top.

5. Read at least one other person’s blog who has linked back their post. If you’re the first person to link back, you can check back later, or go to the previous week, by following my category, “Stream of Consciousness Saturday,” which you’ll find right below the “Like” button on my post.

6. Copy and paste the rules (if you’d like to) in your post. The more people who join in, the more new bloggers you’ll meet and the bigger your community will get!

7. Have fun!


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Not Listening

somebody

For all you parents out there who think their young kids take advantage, consider this:

A Deaf child who doesn’t want to go to bed, really can act like he’s not listening if he refuses to look at you…


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JusJoJan 6 – Vacations Are Fun

I’m at a crossroads, of sorts, in regards to my son, Alex, and his behaviour. Keeping in mind that it’s 5:46am and I’ve had two hours of sleep all night, I’m writing this here as both a way to get it in black and white so I can see the problem from a different perspective, and to put the conundrum out there in hopes that someone else has gone through something similar. My hopes aren’t too high.

First, the history: To say that Alex has a hard time making decisions is a gross understatement. When trying to choose, for instance, between staying home to play a game or come with me to the grocery store, he’ll change his mind at least a dozen times. He’ll get dressed and then completely undressed; he’ll whine, cry, scratch his head a lot – it’s utter torture. I have, however, reduced it from a half hour ordeal to, “I’m leaving, if you want to come with me, be ready before I walk out the door.” As a result the process now only takes five minutes.

He also suffers with the occasional insomnia, and for the past week he’s been combining the lack of decision-making skills with lack of sleep. The fact that there are two single beds in his room has never been a problem before. When my mother comes to visit on the weekends, she sleeps in his room and he’s quite happy with that deal. Only for a week now he can’t decide which bed he wants to sleep in. At approximately 2:30 every morning since before New Year’s Eve, he’s been doing the whining, crying, head-scratching routine. It’s torture for both of us, and it goes on for a couple of hours each night. I tried hanging a calendar in his room and striking up a deal with him that he sleeps one month in one bed and the next in the other. That worked for one night – coincidentally it was the same night he didn’t have a choice because Nanny was in the other bed.

So. I’m faced with a dilemma. Do I go to all the trouble of taking the extra bed out of his room?

On the surface it seems to be the logical thing to do.

Except: there is still the communication barrier thing going on. Not being completely fluent in my own son’s language – American Sign Language – I never really completely know if he understands the consequences of his actions before they happen. It’s always that one word I’m missing: “If you don’t get ready now, I’m leaving without you.” I will temporarily lose from my addled brain the sign for ‘without.’ Or, “If you don’t stay in one bed all night, I’m going to move the other bed out.” Is he getting that I’m going to move the bed? Or does he think I’m going to let him sleep in another room? Even if I turn the sentence around and keep it positive, I have the same problem. Aside from sleeping in his room, which is exactly what he wants me to do and will ensure that I’ll never sleep in my own bed again, I can’t keep him in bed at night. In the past I’ve been able to demonstrate what I mean. Like during the period when he decided to turn the television on in his room at 2am. I tried to explain to him that if he didn’t leave it off I’d take it out of the room, and when that didn’t work, I took it out of the room. He got it after that. Moving a bed, box spring and mattress down four flights of stairs is a rather more difficult undertaking.

So, my next thought was, tip the bed on its side and leave it where it is. Only that would be an all new brand of hell for my little darling and his OCD.

I know I need to ask his school for help. At this point his teacher is already practically living my life for me in regards to making sure he does as he’s told at home. They, unlike me, know how to explain things to him in no uncertain terms. It’s easy to see how vacations from school become nightmares at home.

Before you ask, there is no support for hearing parents to learn sign language for their Deaf children in the area.

Oh, and I just found out there’s no school today because of flash freezing. Oh joy.

Any suggestions, hugs, or paid-in-full Caribbean vacations can be left in the comment box and will be gratefully received.

Post on your site, and join Just Jot it January. The rules are easy!


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Is It Just Me?

Is it just me or does it seem like this is the worst time of year for colds? Every year at Christmas time, someone in my family gets sick. It’s awful when it’s me, because I’m the one everyone counts on to do all the shopping, the wrapping, and the cooking, on top of everything else. This year (knock on wood) it’s not me though. It’s Alex, my little guy.

If it’s just a cold, I’ll be able to keep him home. It’ll be rough, with sleepless nights and plenty of whining, but we’ll make it. If it’s the flu, off to the hospital we’ll go for a nice leisurely stay (for him, he loves the hospital) and for me it’ll be running back and forth for this and that, because they don’t have the equipment to feed him, they can’t get the formula he drinks, and they can’t make up his medicine without the recipe. They also don’t have his size in diapers. Oh, and of course they don’t have sign language interpreters, and none of the nurses, nor any of the doctors (so far) know American Sign Language. It’s loads of fun for Alex – he laughs at them when they try to sign to him – unless he’s very sick, and then I receive phone calls in the middle of the night asking for translations.

But I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I? I certainly hope so. Wish us luck!


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My Three ‘Only’ Children

The dynamic that makes up my family is so unique that I don’t imagine there is even a statistic out there which would cover it. Since this is the case, I will describe it so that you can imagine.

Having grown up an only child, I always said that I would have more than one, so that my children would have a sibling to play with. So I gave birth to one beautiful little boy and then another, 14 short months later. When my second turned four years old, things became complicated. He was diagnosed with autism. After months of therapy and learning to read, he finally began speaking. Yes, reading taught him to speak. But being autistic meant lining up toy cars all the way around the dining room table, not playing with his older brother. To this day, he prefers to be alone all the time, and rarely interacts with us.

Then came the decision to have another child. Although there was going to be five or six years difference, at least when they were older my first child and my third would be able to get along perhaps. My third son was born Deaf, however. Imagine it. Having someone in your family, who you gave birth to, who speaks a different language.

Yes, we have all learned to sign. But there is no doubt that my youngest son is most at home with people who can not only speak his language fluently, but who can teach him what it truly means to be a Deaf person in a hearing world.

So there you have it. My family consists of three children who essentially have lives which are fundamentally different from each other’s.

Nothing in life is guaranteed, and anything is possible.