A Birthday Song

Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday dear Daddy,
Happy Birthday to you!

Pip! Ray!
Pip! Ray!
Pip! Ray!

We are celebrating M's birthday today.
We lit a candle. We made cards. We ate cake for breakfast.
Miss V would like to know when Pip and Ray are getting here.

Our dinner table

While the girls were setting the table last night I was distracted trying to get our dinner out of the pan in one piece, so didn't help them like I usually do. When we sat down I noticed one extra setting. I commented on this and F told me, "It's for daddy so he can have dinner with us tonight."

Miss F has an amazing ability to sense when I'm missing her dad, and an even more amazing ability to remind me that he is still here. He's here in spirit, watching and listening and laughing with us - But more importantly, he's here in his girls. And he always will be.

No. Go. Tell.

There was an incident with Miss J at daycare today. An incident which has again highlighted for me just how important self protection and sexuality education is - Not just for children, but for their carers as well.

When I leave the kewl girls in someone else's care, there are lots of things I tell them.
When we get there I tell them about the people who are there to make sure they are safe.
I tell them when I am leaving and when I will be back.
I tell them to have lots of fun, do lots of laughing, and use their minds for thinking, their ears for listening and their eyes for looking.
I also tell them each to respect their body and to listen when it is telling them something.

There are also things I don't tell them.
I don't tell them to be good, I don't tell them to do what they are told and I don't tell them to play nice. In fact, I never say these things to them.

If someone is trying to do something unreasonable, something harmful or sinister to my child, I don't want them to hear my voice telling them to be good, do as they are told and play nice.
I want them to hear my voice telling them to look, listen, use their mind, think about what is happening and listen if their body is telling them NO.

The kewl girls may be toddlers but they are still people, and they are not stupid. If a request is reasonable, most of the time they are willing. If not, well, they have my permission to say NO.

Today, New Daycare Person asked J to go to the toilet. J said she didn't need to.
NDP insisted. So did J.
NDP tried to physically escort J to the toilet and make her remove her underwear.
J went ballistic.

When I arrived to pick the girls up at the usual time (and not more than 10 minutes after this incident) our favourite carer told me what had happened. Apparently, J said "no". Then shouted "No!". Then screamed "NO!" and when NDP invaded her personal space, Miss J got physical. At this point our favourite carer intervened. J would not calm down or talk to her until they were a good distance away from NDP. Then she said, "Help please. I need my mum now."

Try to say NO.
GO to a safe place as soon as you can.
TELL an adult you trust and ask for help.

No. Go. Tell.

This is what she has been taught to do when she is having a NO feeling, and this is exactly what she did.

I am so grateful that she was able to listen to her body, make herself heard and practice self protection. I am grateful that she was in an environment where she could succeed and where there were others looking out for her safety. I am also grateful that she was taken seriously by our favourite carer and that I arrived not long after this happened.

NDP may not be a predator and she may not have intended for her actions to be harsh, forceful and inappropriate. I don't care. I respect my children, I respect their wishes and I take their feelings seriously. When J says NDP makes her feel like there is hot sand in her chest and in her stomach, I believe her.
The kewl girls will not being going to daycare again on the days that NDP is there. Not until she changes her attitude and gets some better education, at least.

Miss J may be a child, but that does not give other people access to, nor control over her body. She is a person and she said NO.

Yes mum

On the way out this morning I stopped in front of the girls, blocked the doorway and refused to move until they said the magic word.
Miss F said, "Pretty please?"
Miss V said, "Chocolate freckles?"
Miss J said, "We're late you know mum. Time to get in the car now."

Real Babyccino

We went to our favourite cafe this morning. It's a great coffee shop - great food, great people, great location and most importantly, great coffee. (This is fortunate, as it is the only cafe in our little town.) To say we go there often would be an understatement.

We are on first name basis with the staff there. In fact, I'd go so far as to call us friends. We were looking forward to seeing our friend Nicole at the counter this morning. We like Nicole. She talks to the girls as though they are old friends and makes them feel very grown up. She also knows our order and respects all of our annoying dietary 'issues', so I don't have to check and double check everything.
This morning though, instead of our lovely, smiling, familiar, old friend Nicole at the counter, we were greeted by a new girl.
I know. Shock horror.

Judging by the spotless new apron (and the fact that she was not there when we went for lunch yesterday...) I'd say it was her first day. She looked nice enough, though obviously she was no Nicole.
We ordered and I triple checked everything ("Gluten free bread? One milkshake but split in two glasses? Babyccion but no marshmallows? Soy milk? Definitely no ice cream?"). Then we sat down and she brought over some water. I noticed she seemed to be having a little trouble negotiating her way around the tables. The reason for this became apparent when she walked away and F exclaimed, rather loudly, "Look! That lady is walking on stilts!"
When I said that they were actually just normal shoes with a very high heel, F said, "No, they are stilts mum! She's walking all funny and I think she's going to fall off them!"

Little Miss F must have said this a little too loudly (or maybe a little too hopefully), because when all the drinks came out her babyccino was nowhere to be seen.
I checked with the new girl (again) and she said it was on it's way. As I was walking back to the table I heard her ask the chef, "What's a babyccion?". I expected her to follow this up with "April fools!". But she didn't. She was serious.

I was still recovering from shock when the new girl stilt walked her way over with Miss F's babyccion. I have to say it did look very impressive with a big frothy top and lots of chocolate sprinkles. Miss F was most pleased with herself and she looked oh so grown up as she skimmed the chocolate off the top. I was just about to join her in my own chocolate froth scooping heaven when she exclaimed, "Look mum! It's a REAL one!"

It was indeed a real one. At the bottom of her babyccion cup was a baby shot of coffee.

Just what every toddler needs.

Pimple face

Miss V was lying with me this morning, gazing lovingly into my eyes, when she pointed at a red spot on my chin and asked, "What's that?!"
I told her it was a pimple.
She pointed again. "There's another one."
Me, "Yes V."
V, "Look! More!"
Me, "Yes, V."
V, "And MORE!"
Me, "OK, V."
V, "They're EVERYWHERE!"
Me, "No need to rub it in, honey."
V, "Not rubbing. Pointing."
Me, "Of course you are. Sorry."
V, "Count?"
Me, "If you have to.."
V, "Onnneee.... Twwwwoooo..... Thrreeee... Twenty more - a hundred!!
Me, "OK darling. Do you mind if I get a second opinion? Miss F?"
F, "She's right, mum."
Fabulous.

I maintain that my current complexion issues have NOTHING to do with eating too much chocolate and everything to do with those gotta love 'em hormones.

And just for the record, my children exaggerate.

A lot.

More of Joey's words on Wednesday

It has been almost a month now, since Joey discovered Facilitated Communication and he has graciously given me permission to post this update... He says, "That's just the kinda guy I am. Kind, generous, caring, sharing, unpretentious, modest, humble..."

A quick bit of info, to paint the picture...
The 'flapping' referred to in this post is one of the ways that Joey expresses any kind of heightened emotion. His description of flapping is, "like a mad one handed clap going on in both hands."
And here is a look at the communication board we use. I hold one side with my left hand, Joey holds the other with his right hand, then my right hand supports his left hand to form a point and make the backwards movement away from the board. Joey makes the forward pointing movement and spells out his words on the board, which I read and then speak.
Kewl, huh?




The update...
The very first thing to tell you is that Joey has not been near a horse again! After getting the message (in no uncertain terms) that horse riding was not his thing, Joey's parents took him out of the program.
A week later I asked Joey about his first communication and he reflected, "I said I hate horses and people got it. Like, they got it."
Joey went on to explained that his obsession with the tack room came from his attempt to delay having to get on the horse. He also explained that his flapping was not because he was excited or even happy to be there, but because he was "shit scared" and couldn't wait to get off. He had been communicating this for 12 years but no one had "got it".

The next first...
When Joey's parents heard that he'd been successful in using FC as a method of communication, they were eager to facilitate with him. His mum asked if I would teach her and I couldn't agree fast enough. Joey was a little more apprehensive.

When I arrived at their house he was pretty wound up and flapping all over the place. He could barely even look at us, let alone the FC board. We took the pressure of straight away and said we'd have a chat, if he wanted to, but he did not have to try FC with mum today. This helped a little, and after we moved outside and sat on the grass he calmed down enough to sit beside me. Another 10 minutes and he could handle eye contact. Another 10 and we could pick up the board.

His hand was shaking and his movements were wild and intense. He stopped quite a few times to flap out some steam and I started to worry that this was causing him too much stress. I suggested we leave it for today and come back to it another time. Hit must have hit "NO" about a hundred times!
So we persisted, and after being assured that we would continue to persist until he had said what he wanted to, Joey calmed down enough to continue. I asked a couple of simple questions to try and ease our way into things and we got there eventually.
Here is what was said:

Me, "You have a beautiful garden, Joey. Do you prefer the shrubs, or the trees?"
Joey, "Trees, please."
Me, "Do you enjoy their smooth leaves, or rough bark?"
Joey, "Bark. It feels real."
Me, "Real is a great description. What else do you feel, Joey?"
Joey, "Boring question, Al."
Me, laughing, "OK. Do you have a question?"
Joey, "No."
Me, "Is there something you would like to say?"
Joey, "Yes."

We then had quite a few rounds of Joey making huge, random and uncontrolled movements, getting frustrated and then shoving the board away before he finally managed to say what he wanted to say.

"Hi mum. It's me. Joey."

She cried, I cried, and Joey flapped so much we thought he was going to take off.

Since then, Joey and I have talked about why it was so difficult for him to speak to his mum. He says, "Thoughts are always in my head and they've never got out before. When I think about her (mum) there is so much thought there that it all got stuck and nothing could get out the exit. Like a traffic jam, only freakier."

Joey's mum asked if he still wanted her to learn to facilitate with him and he said, "Yes. But I think we jumped too much in the deep end. Let's not drown next time, OK?"
Mum agreed, and they have now decided to go right back to basics and design their own communication board together. They will also look for a support person who will be able to facilitate with him in the mean time, as currently I am the only person who is able to do this and the time we share is limited. In relation to this Joey says to me, "When you leave with that board, you take all my words with you.... Nothing personal."
After he stopped laughing, he added, "The more I can say, the less traffic will be there to get jammed up. Then I can be traffic controller."
"That'll be sweet, that will."