Sunday, March 18, 2012

The meme I have been tagged for...

I am not quite getting the hang of memes and tags...
but being a good sport...
and as both Marsupial mama and my new blog friend Flannery both tagged me
I comply.
And I am flattered

ten things you might not know...

My earliest memory is from Norway from the time my father studied there in the seventies and I was about eighteen months old.
It is snow everywhere... but given my short stature it might have been quite average.
My parents built me a snow horse and I remember anticipation and excitement, when I was put on back... there was this terrible disappointment when nothing happened... I very clearly remember that I expected something more...
there it is my first memory is utter disappointment in reality.

I have extremely bushy eyebrows which I never pluck.
Thanks to Brooke Shields who was on the front page of Vogue when I was at a vulnerable age.
Thanks to my father from whom I inherited my eyebrows and general looks, and whom I still miss fiercely.
Thanks to my great great grandfather the shark hunter from the north and whose eyebrows are depicted very clearly on a statue put up in his honor on the island where he lived and hunted.
Thanks to Frida Kahlo who is just a marvelous artist and always looks stunning with those raven wings across her face on every self portrait she ever painted.

I grew up in the cold war.
Iceland's fortune was to be in the middle.
My father had long hair and radical opinions... my mother had a more conservative view of the world.

I remember being babtised. I was five.
At the confirmation my father asked if I was OK if he did not come to the church, I was relieved... I did not want him to see the parade.
Religion annoys me.
I think it is genetic.

I never knew what I wanted to be when I grew up so I tried law and was disappointed. Then I switched over to philosophy.
Then I wanted to be an artist so I went to art school and studied sculpture.
I still do not know what I want to be.
I am a wannabe.

My husband and I met almost twenty years ago. My father died that same summer.
My daughter is almost nineteen.
children grow
Time flies.
Things happen fast

I did not plan to have five children they just happened again and again and again and oops then I did it again.
I am glad they did.

I used to read a lot as a child and when I read I was so totally immersed in the book that I literally could not hear anything in my surroundings.
People had to touch me to get my attention.
That ability or disability sorted itself when I had children.

My sons were all born at home. I read as obsessively about home birth as I now read about autism.
I was fascinated when women told of painless birth.
I wanted to experience it and I did.
Sturla's birth was nothing less than magical.

I still like fantasy better than reality.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

No more snow

Finally there was this heavy rain pouring down washing and cleaning a way the dark dirty clumps of winter.

I take the bus to work these days leaving behind a very happy boy in pyjamas and a sleepy eyed teenage daughter. She is so brilliant with him.
Hubby pics me up after work and there he is again...smiling and happy greeting my fellow teachers as he walks in.

We manage between us about six hours a day of therapy time.
We are still sort of cleaning up and seeing where he is.
We intend to make this work.

there is reading playing and piano and a very full program

once a week our consultant will come and right our course

Every child that comes within a ten feet radius of our house is coaxed into play and conversation and I walk around with my pockets full of sweets and silly toys to lure them.

Some of his passiveness is gone. He is more opinionated he yells more and that is good.
He needs to wake up

yell and be happy
express yourself
be mischievous and creative
and above all act up
get ideas
That is progress

good sweet and calm became passive and unresponsive lately

And I intend to wash that away like the last bits of dirty snow

Spring will be upon us very soon.
Big words...but...
I have to believe it.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

The only way is forward.

I cut my hair
I washed my floors
I am done with angry emails
the broken reckord in my head has resorted to whispers

and I ask him do you want to go to playschool
No, I quit... he says
Are you sure... do you want to go?

I am so afraid of the answer... because he would tell me.
No I quit....

I sigh in relief...

And now I watch him with his bunch of brothers...playing... laughing
now and then rushing to the piano playing little pieces of music, because that is his stim.
Constant music.

he is so lucky to have them
they are his playschool

He is happy.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Goodbye and thanks for nothing.

This is a translation of the post I recieved from playschool this morning. Yesterday we had workshop with our consultant..which frankly was not what I hoped.

this is what they had to say

" We have decided to use a different approach to work with play. We can no longer take B(a peer) out of his group or other children in the play school.
When we work with children we want to do this on their terms and for their benefit not on their cost(lousy translation). B is not benefiiting from playing with Sturla as all the work is on Sturla's term not his.
B himself does not want to be apart from his group and has started to say so himself.
We will continue to work on play by offering various children the opportunity to a free play that comes from themselves with Sturla."

To which I replied.
First by rushing in a dramatic fashion and getting my kid out of there and then by letter.

In a response to the letter I received this morning and in explanation of my reaction.

1. A different approach than suggested by professional consultants?
2.No other children in play sessions? ...(meaning therapy work)
3. Is Sturla's therapy and progress harming other children?
4. I put a question mark on the attitude ..when teachers therapists can not see and work with children as benefits them both typical children and children with developmental delays.
5. We have never suggested that a child should be a therapist for Sturla. Or that one child should be picked out for play sessions. This has been discussed several times.
6. Free play?
a. children with autism do not learn play or social skills by osmosis.
b. Therapists claiming to work with children using aba should do so by building systematically up useful skills and make use of professional advice.

With this in mind I can not see how Sturla can continue his stay at this so and so playschool.


Thursday, March 1, 2012

Can you do it?

Please be a monster he says almost crying to his brother Eiki as I drive his brothers to school.

And I am so sorry I have to get to work and get him to play school.

later today he is again at home with us

Can you do it?
he asks.. handing his brother a drawing...
Sure I will try...

what is it? I ask

A labyrinth
And there they are on a stack of paper both small and big.
At least ten of various complexity.

making me so blissfully happy