Boy Out of Context

Cookies and candy canes

I ended up almost wishing that we had traveled, just so I wasn't at work this past week.  It was largely unpleasant; full of emergencies, as the week before a holiday will be.  But the emergencies weren't turning out particularly well.  On Friday, our last day open before a lengthy closure, my first appointment of the day derailed almost immediately.  Before I could begin to assess the problem with the cat, the owner stated that she was about ready to get rid of her, that despite owning that cat for eleven years she really didn't care much for her and she liked her younger cat better.  At some point, after I tried to explain that whatever was wrong with her cat was probably not going to be easily fixed but would probably take some testing and might end up being expensive and would probably be something managed rather than cured, the woman began to yell at me and I began to cry. 

She misunderstood immediately.  She thought I was crying because I was so protective of her relationship with her cat and I wanted to keep the two of them together, but really I was crying at the hell I see people dump on animals every day.  Frustration is understandable.  Considering an animal you've shared your life with for over a decade to be utterly disposable boggles my mind. 

We gave her the out, of couse, and said that she could relinquish the cat to us and we'd make sure the medical things were taken care of before she was placed in a home.  She said she'd rather go through Craigslist.  Again, boggles the mind. 

The rest of the day was busy, but less emotional.  Someone had picked up a stray dog the day before and one of the dog's legs was fractured.  It's the kind of work that is rewarding.  I anesthetized the puppy and splinted the leg, prescribed pain medication post-op.  I laughed when I saw the post-splint Xrays, because realistically this break should have had a surgical fix, but this is a stray and there's no one to pay for that kind of treatment.  But I remembered Julia's doctor - baby animals, like baby children, have bones that like to heal.  Puppy will in all likelihood be fine. 

Max and Julia were just the right age for all the magical aspects of this season and we really enjoyed ourselves.  We went to Winterhaven to see the lights and we went to a friend's house for a wonderful party and then to a parade downtown.  We went to Zoo Lights.  I took them to see "snow." 

Christmas Eve was exactly what I wanted after what had been a very stressful fall with Max.  We let them each choose a present to open in the morning - Julia chose a gift from one of my sisters that was a full set of Disney princesses (note to self: make a mental note about who is wearing what crown in the future), and Max chose an extremely heavy gift from my other sister that ended up being an erector set. 

I guess Christmas Eve didn't go exactly as planned, since I didn't anticipate spending most of the day building a forklift.  But mostly it was low-key and pleasant and filled with my three favorite people and appetizers for dinner and Santa Tracker and later some wine and Glee. 

Max bolted awake at 5 a.m.  He held himself in a slightly quivery state until Julia got up at about 8.  They are a hilarious team at present opening, taking turns, but Max wants to rush through everything, and Julia is content to play with things a bit.  I'm making a concerted effort to get her away from all things Barbie, so I have been trying to move her to Groovy Girls, and one of my sisters found her some really special dolls, too.  The dolls all took a little sleigh ride together, while Cady celebrated Christmas in typical Cady-fashion in the background.

(those slippers she is wearing were my eleventh hour Mrs. Claus gift I was able to whip up after a very stressful knitting year)

Yesterday, Christmas Day, I stopped at the clinic to write up my charts from Friday.  I realized, once there, that no one had been able to cover the morning shift, so after finishing my charts I started caring for the cats.  We had no hospitalized patients so it was just a matter of caring for our own hospital cats, but it was nice.  My usual care for them involves examinations and notes and changes to orders and it has been years, literally, since I've gone to work and just gotten to feed and water and clean litter boxes and administer scratches behind the ears. 

Today I was in, briefly, because I was worried about a greyhound I had seen on Friday.  I got the owner, who is still out of town, but since she hadn't heard from the petsitter we're both assuming that the dog is improving.  We talked a bit about the long term implications of the dog's current problem; she's a nurse and we think we know where this is leading, although the bouts the dog is having are years apart so right now we're not going to over-worry.  I like most of my patients but this one is special to my heart. 

Putting last week aside, I'm trying to remember the patient and owner after the first one.  We'd never met the owner before and it was nothing but a free health exam we offer for a new pet adoption.  I ran through the basics.  Dog was adjusting well, owner was adjusting well.  I tweaked housebreaking and recommended a dietary supplement.  As I was walking out I remarked that it was unusual to find this breed in a shelter.  The woman told me she knew.  It took her eight years. 

Eight years to find her perfect puppy.  I hope they have years and years of happy memories together.  I hope I can help make that happen for them. 

Attempt at a silver lining

I wanted to take them to The Muppets. 

It seemed easy enough.  Next week they'll be off school and we'll have a lot of antsy pre-holiday hours to fill.  Movie and lunch sounded like fun. 

Julia was game immediately.  She hasn't seen much of the muppets, but she is a big fan of their rendition of Furry Happy Monsters (to "Shiny Happy People") and likes the story of how that was the only thing that would settle her down in her infancy witching hour.  But Max said he didn't want to go. 

I knew he was at least kind of interested in the movie, but when I asked why he said no he told me that the movie would be too loud and it would be too difficult for him. 

In the past we've had a mixed reaction from Max at movies.  He likes the movie part of the movie.  He loved Up and Toy Story 3 (featuring a garbage truck, huge hit).  He loves the pop corn and the experience of being in the theater.  But for a kid with sensory issues, a movie is a problem.  It's loud, the previews and ads are annoying and that's a lot of extra information flying at you before you even get to the real movie.  But he's never said no before. 

On one hand, I'm impressed that he recognized his own limitation on this.  I know that's an important step for him to be able to say that this situation is too much and to just keep himself out of it. 

On the other hand, I just want. to. take. my. child. to. a. movie.

It wasn't even so much the dumb Muppet movie I felt that strongly about.  Max would like it, but he would lovelovelove Hugo, and that's really why I'm disappointed that movies are something we'll be missing.  And of course we can see it later at home.  But it's not the same.  Not really. 

Yesterday Julia had a dentist appointment in the morning so I took her to the muppet movie afterwards so Max wouldn't even be particularly aware that we were going.  And we had a good time, although every time I looked to my left to see her reaction to the puppets, I automatically looked to my right, too. 

I planned to write this post yesterday, but I was descending into a spiral of everybody-has-it-easier type thoughts, which I generally try not to get into.  Partly because I know it's not true and partly because it's not overly useful.  You play the hand you're dealt.  No point in thinking about how things would be if the cards were different. 

The thing about Max is, the highs and the lows are at extremes.  Yesterday I could only think about what we were missing together.  Today at his dentist appointment, Max pointed to the various instruments and told the hygenist, correctly, what color they used to be, six months ago. 

She stared at him.  I was delighted.

murmur

I've started this post over and over with this long story about what happened, but here's the abbreviated version.  We made a decision in the best interest of our son, but it wasn't the decision that some people wanted and so they're angry with us. 

And so it goes. 

If you look at things on the surface here, they seem fine.  Improved.  Max appears to be doing better at school, but it feels to me like there's an undercurrent of...something. 

The problems at home continue.  We did what was suggested at our last meeting.  There's a chart for Max so that he can gauge how angry he is getting and then he and I came up with three options for him to calm himself rather than acting out. 

It's not really working. 

In the moment, he can't think ahead enough to get this far with it.  And the things he's reacting to just leave me puzzled.  Really?  This?  This is what you're screaming about?

I think the improvement at school is costing us at home and he's become more rigid than he's been in years.  He's almost tunnel-visioned sometimes in how he wants something to happen, and he explodes in frustration if it deviates from the expectation.  Paul and I can obviously work with this for the most part, but Julia doesn't understand why she should be required to play a certain way.  In the end, there's screaming and crying and stomping and door slamming and a general unease. 

I'm hoping that the break, which we've decided to spend just the four of us, quietly and low-key, with no real plans other than a few local events and time at the park and reading and playing will serve as a collective deep breath. 

Paul makes fun of the music that I like, calling it "jangly guitar" music.  True or not, I have liked REM since high school, and I bristled at the jokes made when they announced their split.  I wasn't surprised by the news; I disliked people panning the recent works that thay had not heard.  Accelerate is a good album.  Collapse Into Now is a great one. 

That's what I was listening to when I realized what I want Max to really understand right now.  This is a difficult time, but it isn't the sum of who he is or who he will be or what he will do with his life.  We all just have to keep going.  Deep breath.  We'll get to the next day.

Excuse the video quality.  I hate the official video for the song and the instrumentals here are even lovelier than those on the album.

 

 

I cannot tell a lie

It's not all cherry pie

But it's all there waiting for you.