Bye Bye Summer, Hello Throw Up

So here we are at the end of August already. School is back in session and I am officially the mom of a first-grader and a first-time preschooler. Rowen is at school all day every day and Lane hits the books (or should I say play-dough?) in the mornings four days a week. I think I was more sad than Lane to see him off to his classroom. He'd been wearing his book bag at home a whole week prior to school and when I dropped him off, he didn't even look back to say goodbye. He was more than ready.

You might have an inkling that Rowen is a different story. His first day we only had a few tears, but every day since has opened the floodgates of red-faced cries both at bedtime and in the mornings. He cried so much this morning that he hid under our bed, thinking I'd be none too wise to find him. Once I coaxed him out and got him to take a few bites of a peach, the anxiety came full circle. I turned just in time to catch him throwing up all over the kitchen floor. Mind you, this wasn't just a few bites of peach (WARNING: Graphic in nature!), this was breakfast, juice, all his meds, and I think dinner from the night before. Afterward, he kept saying he was sorry but then a hint of a smile came across his face after the mother of all revelations hit him. "I guess I can't go to school then," he said, feigning sadness.

I looked from him to the massive pile of... you know... and thought, hmm, I guess this kid has a point. I wasn't sure of the protocol from a kid throwing up purely from anxiety versus an actual illness so I called it in. Just as I thought, they encouraged me to take him in which I was relieved to hear. I don't want an encore presentation of this just because it looks like the magic ticket out of school.

So he strapped his Batman book bag on, loaded up his lunchbox, and we headed out- after a gargle of mouthwash. After several requested prayers and hugs, he disappeared inside the building. I had promised Lane I would take him to the zoo today since it was his day off of school. I hesitated, wanting to be nearby if I got a call, but figured we had to stick with the plan.

Despite my heavy heart for Rowen, I did enjoy Lane time at the zoo.

He ran ahead of me like he always does, but surprisingly instead of going into banana-crazy psycho anxiety mode, I was relaxed. Funny, I always thought it was Lane running too far ahead of me that bothered me. I realized today though that it's actually the 6-year-old by my side that I worry more for. In his absence, I didn't have to fret about how he'd react if I had to chase after my wayward preschooler. Usually Rowen goes ballistic and either freaks that I've separated a tiny micro-bit from him or he takes it upon himself to loudly scold Lane and grab at him like a wildebeest. This is not to say that I wouldn't have wanted Rowen there. There was of course a void knowing he is always by my side. Here's to hoping we'll both make it through this year.

Oh, and by the way, we appealed the denial made by Franklin County to detract our funding for Rowen's therapies and we won! Rowen gets to keep meeting with his beloved OT, Ms. Cindy. That's cause for celebration!

The Norm

After a weeklong trip to the Gulf of Mexico with my wild brood, we are home sweet home and back to the norm. Not that the "norm" made a week-long exit by any means. Our norm was in full swing 24/7, complete with Rowen's latest obsession with private boy parts and his uncanny ability to announce this no matter who is around.

We stayed at a condominium complex where mostly older folks stay in the hopes of some peace and quiet. We don't quite fit in with that picture, especially when Rowen is standing at the foot of the pool screaming about his balls while Lane echoes something similar about his penis while treading water. I can't tell you exactly how many sweetly smiling seniors paced the pool for their water aerobics, but I am sure there were enough to give us a few confused stares. I wouldn't know though because I really don't look anymore. I am sure a few stares also came our way when Rowen blew up about his goggles slipping off his face. It's funny because as much as I have become accustomed to the norm, I still can't say I always know the right move. Maybe it's hopefulness that it will be different or that I can change the outcome. Whatever it is, it's probably just stupid. Just follow the script, Amanda.

I know I probably make it out to be so bad and it really isn't. I have to laugh a little at some of our misfortunes if we have to go through them. We really did have a great time and I loved watching Rowen and Lane jump into the warm waves of the Gulf with smiles across their faces. And though he told the girl on the plane in the seat in front of him that he hated her (yes, of course we talked to him about that one), he did make a friend on the sunny shore that he did quite well with. When those things happen, we usually drop everything to let him have the time he needs. He needs the practice- and the confidence.

As school creeps up to being right around the corner, the nights are becoming more sleepless as Rowen's anxiety grows. He is starting to ruminate about his fears involving school and the social situations that he will face. I remember being scared too, but I hate that the deck is stacked against him. The very social cues that you and I pick up on to clue us in on our next moves are usually in outer space for Rowen. He is a good kid (despite how many times he spews messages of self-hatred) and, as I told him tonight, his goodness can go unseen due to his emotional dysregulation, hyperactivity, and occasional- ok obsessional- talk about his balls. I guess that's a boy thing at any level, although it is curious when I catch him rehearsing how throw it into conversation.

So if you think about it, say a prayer or two for Rowen. He could always use some grace in spite of his rough exterior at times. And if you catch him talking about his junk, just know that this too shall pass and another obsession will soon come his way. Hopefully one that's a little more PG.