Zen and the Art of Mackenzie Maintenance

I was reflecting today about the preparations it took to get Mackenzie ready for a day at the beach. Fiona put on her bathing suit, packed her backpack, and got in the car. Mackenzie ran into her room to pick out a bathing suit and came out with a miss matched bikini set. We put it on and off she went only to return telling me it was itchy. Off it came. Second bathing suit went on. It was itchy. Third bathing suit worked. Tantrum over tooth brushing. Tantrum over needing to pee before getting in car. Finally in car seat and ready to go. Wait, bathing suit is itchy. I take down the top part and make her stay in it until we get to the beach where I change her into the 4th suit which consisted of a bikini bottom with no top. I was tired before we even got there. The wrestling matches are tiring.

We had a power outage the other night that lasted about an hour and a half. It was only 5pm so I wasn't too worried about it initially. And then...she wanted the show she watches every day at 5. Nope, sorry. Hot dinner, sorry. Afraid of candles, sorry. Can't take a bath, sorry. I had a funny thought as we rushed around trying to make things normal. Do you remember that movie Ice Castles? Remember at the end when she did her amazing ice skating routine and then tripped over all the roses and flowers thrown on the ice? They had forgotten to prepare her for that part. That is how I felt. I hadn't been able to prepare her for the power to be out. We'd never needed to. Mackenzie's lights are out at about 7. At 6:40 the lights went back on. Phew. I was so dreading closing her door without her blue nightlight and her white nightlight and her music and her fan and her...and her ....and her....

She has begun spitting (again) all over the place. When she is mad, she spits on the floor. I don't get the TV on the right channel, she spits on the screen. I lean over to scold her, she spits on my face. As you can imagine- this friggin pisses us off after the umpteenth time each day. We do the time-out, clean it up, apologize- but really that doesn't work and we know that. I met with a psychologist today who suggested that Mack is getting negative reinforcement for her behaviors and as I am nodding my head I am thinking that she doesn't even know what the hell we deal with. This lady is a great help...but when I am suggested that we find a replacement behavior for spitting I can't help but swear inside my head. Of course we want a replacement behavior. Of course I want to find the good moments in the day and praise her and shower her with stickers and small stuffed extrinsinc shit. When really I am so tired and frustrated that putting her in time-out so she is safe from me screaming my head off at her is all I can do. We're working on it. Every day. I praise kids and dole out stickers to Kauai's children in need all day and when I get home I am lost. I can't get my kid to stop. Time. That's what it is. She needs time. She is a 2 year old in a 3.5 year old body. I know that. Brian knows that. She'll get through this. She has phases like these that we somehow get through. And stay married.

Today. Two sticker charts are posted on the wall. One for letting Mommy brush her teeth. One for not throwing anything from the dinner table. She is snoring sweetly in her doggie jammies. Two stickers were proudly placed on the charts for both successful accomplishments. I have extrinsincally motivated my child today, twice. I think I will put a sticker on my shirt too.

Old McDonald's

On Fridays I take my girls to "Old McDonald's" (as Mack says) for a treat. I spend $6.03 for two yogurt parfaits, one strawberry/banana smoothie (fi), and one small coffee with 2 creams. It's always a bit crowded and at least 2 of the customers are my students getting a peek of me with my family. It's as if they can't believe Mrs. G goes to McDonald's too.

Our visit always starts with a trip to the bathroom with Mackenzie. There is something about public restrooms, right? Funny because she is now afraid of auto flush toilets. She sits unsteadily on the seat while plugging her ears telling me, I'm OK Mommy. When we finish I have to dry her hands with toilet paper because she is afraid of the air dryer. Every time we go we do this.

Today, there were no tables in the back so we sat right in the front by the counter. This is the first time we sat there. She had her Old McDonald's highchair and was happy and a bit electric. She was shouting in short spurts here and there which is a favorite to students peeking at us. They make Fi's smoothie in the blender. Mack hears it and dramatically plugs her ears. I reassure her and we go on with our snack. Her blueberries are frozen in the parfait so she begins pounding on her head with and open hand over and over as she always does. The blender starts again. She plugs her ears dramatically and calms herself, Mommy I'm OK. She eats a frozen strawberry and begins smacking her head again. The blender starts again, ear plug. Frozen fruit, head smack. Blender, ear plug. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Because we are sitting at the tables in the front, I'm sure we are quite a scene. Really, I'm not too worried about it. But- I notice it. We don't do restaurants much so this is a big deal to them. I'm still getting used to sharing our ticks with the world. I'll just keep praying for seats in the back.

Patience

Patience is a gift. There are many kinds of patience and even those change from day to day. We start by being patient with ourselves and then we meet our soul mate. That changes into learning to be patient with another person. Once we have children, our patience morphs again into learning to be patient with yourself as a parent, your spouse as a parent, and with your children.

Brian and I endured 3 years of trying to get pregnant, 3 rounds of IVF, the heartbreaking miscarriage of our twins in the 12th week, and finally at the end of it all we met our two miracles. That was the beginning of my patience. The picture above is a scroll we first hung in Fiona's room and it now hangs in our living room. It means "Patience". We bought it at a Buddhist temple while we were in our first IVF cycle for Fiona. I had no idea what that word would mean to me at the time. I look at it every day.

Parents of special children are given an extra dose of patience the day we find out that something is not quite right inside our growing bellies. We spend the remainder of our pregnancy waiting because that is all we can do. I spent 9 weeks alone in a hospital room on my back, waiting. I then spent the first year of Mack's life waiting. Waiting to know that everything was going to be OK.

Shopping in Safeway today I heard a woman rudely comment about Mackenzie. Mack tends to have loud outbursts when she is over stimulated. She'll shout at the top of her lungs in short spurts in a way that reminds me of a child with Turrets. Our cart is full, Fiona is whining, Mack is shouting, life is interesting. I look at Brian and just laugh. I laugh because sometimes I can't believe what we do to get through our day. I laugh because 13 years ago when we got married, I had no idea how strong our bond needed to be and how it was going to be tested. For better or worse for sure.

We wait patiently for the day when we might be able to take our children on vacation. A day when Mackenzie can survive the flight and the everyday changes of being away from home. I realize that I have accepted the fact that my life is different. Not worse than I had expected- not better- just different. I have found peace in knowing that though things are more difficult they are not impossible. It may just take patience while we wait. I keep a quotation in my wallet and I read it often- This is just a moment...it is not the rest of your life.

Throwing

I've written before about Mackenzie's hair pulling and headbanging phase. Today I am overwhelmed with her need to throw things. No, I'm not referring to tantrums. She literally NEEDS to throw things. It started before we really new about her SPD and really just blended in to her need to make herself bald. In the beginning it was sitting at her toy basket throwing every toy out. Yes, every kid throws...not like this. This is throwing so she can get feedback in her joints. This is throwing so she can feel better because she is out of sync.

When Mack gets out of school every day, she walks over to my classroom. She is dismissed at 2:00 and I am allowed to leave school at 2:45. A typical afternoon for us is one where she runs straight for my snack cupboard in the classroom and insists on having some crackers. I go to open a package of Ritz and she freaks out because she was expecting to have the whole tower of crackers. She throws the whole package. Then throws a chair off the table. I put her in time out in the corner of the room. She throws the trashcan and begins throwing papers from my paper drawer next to her time-out rug. I put her in her car seat for a timeout right outside my classroom. Now I'm stuck standing outside by the car for 3 minutes. Once she apologizes and "cleans" her mess we are back on track for a few minutes.

Mackenzie loves to play in the toy kitchen in my class...Fiona heads her way to get a book and because she was within 5 feet of Mackenzie, Miss Mack begins throwing all of the toy food all over the classroom yelling NO FIONA! Time-out in the car. By now it is 2:30 and I have gotten nothing done in the classroom. We do the apology and clean up again and she heads directly to 4 cups filled with 100's of plastic math counters and throws all of them on the floor. By now I am so pissed off that I put her in her car seat for good and get Fiona ready to go. It's 2:45 now and I can leave. I got nothing done other than clean up after her.

Once we get home, I usually make a smoothie for the girls and Fiona does her homework before we go outside to play. Mackenzie runs around the house playing with odds and ends waiting for the loud blender. Once the smoothies are ready she gets in her booster seat and I hand her the cup. She wants a straw. I give both girls a straw. Fi wants a spoon. Then Mack wants a spoon but uses it to spoon smoothie on the table. I take the spoon away. She throws the entire smoothie and smears it all over the table. Time-out. Apologize. No more smoothie for Mack.
We go outside to play. Mack drives her car up and down the driveway. Fiona rides her scooter and taps the top of Mack's car as she passes by. Mack gets out and attempts to throw the car at Fi and then runs over to the toy boxes and throws 5 toys out onto the driveway. Time out. Apologize. One more chance to stay outside.

Meal time- Same story. Food. Throw. Time-out. Apologize. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Utterly exhausting every single day.

Mommy, I'm OK.

Last month, Mackenzie had an experience at school where she heard "thunder" and has been set on a tail spin of fear. She is afraid of everything these days. Thunder is the blanket term she uses for things that scare her. Of course, actual thunder is #1 on her list. I'm having a hard time these days making the world less scary for her. She spends a lot of her time banging on her chest saying, "Mommy, I'm OK." That means, "Mom, I'm freaking out here."

Brian was reading Where the Wild Things Are the other night and Mack was banging her chest while he was reading. She was afraid. And so it goes...Auto-flush public toilets. Hand driers. Chairs scooting on tile floors. Light reflecting on her wall in her room. The hook on her ceiling where the mobile once hung. The eyes of the owl Nana bought her. Thunder. Rain. Sirens. Smoke. Steam. Certain music. Guitar feedback. Loud surf. The White Lady...

I'm trapped by these fears because mommy nearby is a must to help deal. Of course I don't mind. OK, I mind a little. Every single thing in our day has to be predictable, prepared for, and purposeful. It has to be done in order with no surprises. Bedtime means that her Dalmatian leans on her curtain so the nightlight doesn't shine on her wall. Two nightlights. One blue and one white. Fan on. No cracks in the curtains. Music on, but it has to be the right song and don't make it too loud. Mommy, the owl is looking at me. No mommy that book can't be there. Wait, my neck hurts. I'm OK. Mommy, I'm itchy. I'm OK. There is light on my wall, Mommy. I'm OK. Mommy, there's no thunder. It's OK. I'm OK.

I don't sleep with her. I don't lay with her until she sleeps. I calmly shut the door after reassuring her that she is in fact OK. I wait 5 minutes. I go in again and tell her again that she is OK. I wait 10 min. She cries in fear for a long time some nights. But, that is OK. She's going to get through this. We are going to get through this.