The Worst Day of his Life – According to Colt

So this morning, we got up, kind of grumbled at each other in passing (morning mumbles) and got ready to leave. As we stepped out the door we were greeted with grey skies and pouring rain/ice/rain/ice.

We drove on slippery roads all the way to the sitter’s house and the moment we arrived….downpour.  Of course.  I had handily forgotten my umbrella at my office so we had to sort of duck and run for the door with our coats half-over our heads.

“Ooohh my GOD MOM!!  THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY LIIIIIIIFE!!”  Colt WAY over-dramatically screamed at the top of his lungs.

“Hahahahahahahahahaha!” was, literally, all I could say.

“RUN FOR COVER!!!”  He instructed as he shoved me out of the way and darted for the front stoop…..leaving me in his dust.  Or mud, I guess, since it was pouring.

He didn’t even wait for me, and ran inside the house, slamming the door in my face.

*Knock Knock Knock*

“Ooooh.  Hello there Mommy!” he cried.  “You look a bit soggy.  Were you under the weather?”

(Get it?  He thinks “under the weather” means…literally, under the rain clouds)

I giggled and handed him his school bag while his friends came tearing up the stairs to help him celebrate getting there so early.  They happily skipped off to play before the bus and I ventured back out into the rain.

Some days (most days) I wish I could live in his beautiful world right next to him.  ❤

Anything is Possible

This one happened years ago now, but it’s a moment I’ve always wanted to capture in writing.

When Colt was about 2 he stopped screaming all the time.  He would interact with us, his dad and I, and we struggled through his interactions with others, together.  He wasn’t walking at all but he had a handful of words that he could use with some regularity, first one (lol, of course) was for his dad, ‘dada’ at that point.  Now, although I realize that this could *not* have been intentional on Colt’s part, it made me absolutely green with envy.  I had spent a year locked into a long, lonely, soulful battle between the medical system and my poor, unhappy, screaming, little baby, not feeling like I could ever help him yet struggling to do something anyway, and he said “dada” before even considering “mama.”  I began coaching him mercilessly…

“Mmma-ma-ma-ma Colt, do you want something to drink?”  I’d start every darn sentence with ma-ma-ma.  The child probably thought I had gone mad.   No matter how much I begged, though, he would just not say it.  He wouldn’t even practice it!  Just sat there, staring at me with those big blue eyes with silent resolve.

Time passed and I did not let up.  Sometimes I would just say, “Colt!  Please?  Mmmmm-amamamama loves you SO much and would loooooove it if you’d just say mama for me?”  only to be met with the same, calm stare.  I tried to trick him into too.  “Do you want a mmma-rshmallow?  You have to try to say ‘ma-rshmallow’ first…?”  No dice.  Seriously, the kid was that smart, even then.  I eventually decided to try another tack and just not bring it up at all.  I did, he completely dismissed the whole thing and went on with his life, never calling me ‘mom’.

A few weeks later we were sitting down to Sunday dinner that included an apple pie (from scratch!  An amazing feat for me in the kitchen).  The whole house smelled like the pie, still warm in the oven, and Colt had been interested in it since before dinner started.  He had a super-sensitive tummy as a little one and apple pie was not something on the regular diet so I didn’t expect that he would ask for some, but he definitely wanted a bite when his dad took a slice.  Colt actually picked up and tried to hand over his empty plate…lol.

“You’d like some of this would you?” I smiled, sensing a chance at gaining a bargaining chip.  “Okay, I’ll make you a deal sweet one:  You call me “mom” and I’ll get you some pie.”

Colt picked up his plate, looked me dead in the eye and said “mom.”  Just like that.  No fanfare, no finish-line, just…a plate being handed to me for his serving of pie.  His dad froze, smiled, looked amazed, glanced at me, and burst into laughter.

“Well, you do make a damn good apple pie…”

Apparently so.  (Note to self).  🙂

A Lesson in Bravery

A week or so ago, the Ministry of Health sent us a letter requesting that we catch Colt up on his inoculation booster, something we apparently missed doing when he was five.  With all the stuff that was going on back then (lol, ‘back then’ was only two years ago) it must have slipped everyone’s mind.

I made the appointment for a time that I would have to go for blood work so he could watch me and my reaction to having a needle in my arm before he went through it, knowing he wouldn’t remember the last time in his own life.  I told him about it the morning of so he wouldn’t worry too much, but just enough to keep him in balance, and he did as well as I’ve come to expect from him, such resolve, that kid.  ❤  The only trouble was that the nurse who was to draw my blood was behind and the one who was to deliver Colt’s inoculations was ahead and he ended up having to go before me.  Unanticipated changes involving needles don’t sit well with Colt…well, with anyone, I’d suspect.

His dad happened to be working in the area and managed to take his lunch hour at the appointment time, much to Colt’s relief.  He was so happy to see his dad and told the nurse, after it was all over, that his daddy had come to “lend him some brave.”  The nurse almost cried and his dad lit up like a Christmas Tree.  🙂  Was something special to see.

My nurse was ready for me after Colt calmed down a little and I asked him if he would please come with me to lend ME some brave, if he had any left.  He readily agreed, sniffling and with tears streaking his cheeks, he came to stand beside me.  Tears kept pouring out of his eyes as he dealt with his own discomfort and pain while he choked out,

“It’s going to be okay mommy, *hiccup, sniff* I won’t leave you and the nurse *sniff* is very nice, she will go as fast as she can!”

After she found my vein and started filling vials he asked me if I was okay and then, afterwards, put his hand in mine and told me that I was very brave, sitting so still to let the nurse take my blood.   He asked if it hurt and I said it did a little.  He said his hurt a LOT, not a little,  and then asked for ice cream.

He cried every time he thought about it for the next 10 minutes or so as we said ‘see you later’ to his dad.  Then, as he does, he pulled himself together and announced the experience “over” with a smile of satisfaction and pride, having accomplished it at all.

Colt processes emotional things, fears, experiences…so much better and more definitively than I’ve ever been able to.  In fact, I don’t know a single adult who functions like this.  Maybe he’s the one who has it the right way around… maybe it’s “us” who can’t see big picture?

Just one more example of how I wish, and strive, to be more like my son, who has already learned the uselessness of carrying painful moments from the past around with you.

🙂  Thanks for visiting.

Shampoo and “Eye Steam”

Last night, my little love was in the bath and, with much encouragement, managed to get a blob of shampoo on his head and cleaned his hair.  He didn’t scrub it in quite enough at the front, however, and the shampoo ran down his forehead in a slow drip until it hit his eyes.

“MOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!””  He screamed from the bathroom, “I made my eyes go BLIND!!”  I took that with a grain of salt, just so you know.  He is seven, autistic and often a touch overdramatic…takes right after his father.  I went to him to assess the damage and found him with his palms jammed over his eyes, shampoo still dripping down his forehead and (now) over his fingers.

After a good rinse I managed to get him to move his hands and found sore, red, watery eyes beneath.  I got him to splash a little water on his face and, knowing he would not actually go blind…lol…I sent him off to get his PJ’s on, telling him that his eyes were really smart and would make lots of tears to wash the shampoo away by the next morning.

Now, my boy struggles with words and thoughts.  He knows what he wants to say, but doesn’t always now how to express what’s in his head.  Keeping that in mind, we’re usually overjoyed for him when he manages to explain something to us…this totally counted, but was so cute, I had to post it.

He said “Hey mom!!!  You were right!  While I was sleeping the steam in my eyes got all mixed up with the tears and it washed off!”

*Steam = that foggy kind of film that covers your eye after getting soap in it….*   Amazing huh?  🙂

Remembering Halloween

I wrote this after Halloween two years ago and happened upon it in my files today.  It’s funny to look back at five-year old Colt and remember the little things.   Thought you might enjoy this one:

November 1, 2010 – Trick or Treat

This year would have been the second of Colt’s life in the trick-or-treating business.  Last year, with much encouragement, Colt managed to fight through all the attention and knocked on about 6 doors before he begged for the whole thing to be over.  I said to him, trying to appeal to his five-year old mind

“But honey, if we keep going, you’ll get lots more candy!”  And what did he say?

“Uhhh mom?  I already HAVE candy here..?”   Well, he’s not greedy, that’s for sure.

This year I asked him if he wanted to dress up. He said yes (I already knew that meant no but had to try).  I asked him what he wanted to be, trying to keep the limitations in mind.  He hates anything plastic touching him, not keen on vinyl, can’t tolerate a mask or face paint…so when he said ‘A Transformer’ I almost choked on my dinner.  Crap.  Transformer eh?

I spent hours pondering, and finally came up with an idea.  I found a foam fire truck for him to wear…a car body on straps that sit on the child’s shoulder.  I told him that he was the ‘robot’ part of the transformer (lol).  Surely that would work right?  Nothing touching him, nothing plastic, nothing anywhere near his face.  Well everything was peachy until the moment we went to put the costume on, moments before we walked out the door for trick or treating.

“Uh mommy?  I don’t want to be a fire truck transformer anymore”

“Oh..honey.  You have to wear a costume if you’re going to go trick or treating.”

(Sad face)  “Then I won’t go”  Says he.

(This moment reminded me of many others, while he and I engaged in negotiations over whether or not he was going to wear pants to daycare.  ‘Dude, you HAVE to wear pants to school, no options here..”  “I’m sorry mom, but my answer…is No”)

Mommy, however, was smart this year.  While out shopping a few weeks ago, I found a black toque and a pair of black gloves both with skeleton bones on them,  skull on the hat, finger bones on the gloves.  I put him in a pair of black pants and, voila!  Skeleton.  lol..he was delighted and was ready to charge out the door in an instant.

He still only managed 4 houses this year. 15 minutes and we were home again but he was happy, and that’s all that counts in the end.  😀  Next year I’m hoping for a better score…lol.  Is there not supposed to be a candy surplus for the parents too?  😉

Praise and Reward

Here’s something fun my little guy brought to my life.

When I pick Colt up at the (miracle-worker-angel) babysitter’s house I usually get a full report on his day.  Little Emily, the sitter’s beautiful little girl, is a right tattle-tale and she busts him for everything he does wrong…lol…poor kid.  She’ll tell when he sticks out his tongue, when he calls someone a name, when he “says NO!” (to teachers etc).  I’ve arranged things so she ‘reports’ to her mom (nothing worse than having a friend rat you out right in front of you to your mom!) and then the sitter reports to me.

When Colt has a good day, and by that, I mean literally perfect so that there is nothing to tattle about, I make a HUGE fuss for him.  We high-five and I squish him with hugs (his term, not mine) and kiss his face and tell him how wonderfully proud I am of him.  A little smile touches the corner of his lips and he flushes with pride…it’s one of my favourite moments in life so far.

When I picked Colt up last week, one of the little ones had broken the rules that day (running in the house, playing under the covers in the beds when they were to be sleeping, calling mean names).  Her mom was getting the run-down while I waited patiently for Colt (who had a good day!) and the little girl sullenly stared at the floor and waited for the sitter to finish.  I hate to admit that it felt amazing to NOT be the mom of the kid who was in trouble for once, but I felt for her…as I feel for Colt.  I helped her do up her little jacket while her mom finished chatting with the sitter and she looked at me with sad, dark eyes…

“I didn’t do a very good job today, Colt’s mom *pouts*”  I told her that we all have bad days but even when we’re feeling grumpy, we still have to follow the rules.  I smiled at her and told her that tomorrow was a brand new day to try again.  (I know her mom pretty well so I knew she wouldn’t mind).

Yesterday, I walked up to the door and peeked in the side window to see who was in before I opened it and went into the house.  The little girl caught my eye and came CHARGING to the door to open it for me.

“Colt’s mom!!!  I had a perfect day today with no rule breaking at ALL!”  She threw her arms around my legs and waited for her praise.  I look at Colt, wondering what his reaction might be to someone else getting my adoration for doing well that day, but (no surprise) he was smiling at the little one.  He came over and joined in the hug and we all celebrated for the sweet little girl who tried hard and followed the rules.  She was busting with pride by the time I left.  🙂

When we got outside Colt told me how happy he was for his little friend.  He told me that, sometimes, it’s hard to follow the rules.  I stopped and took his face in my hands and told him he was amazing.  He said,

“I didn’t even do anything and you still think I’m amazing?!”

Oh yeah little boy.  You’re something amazing alright.  ❤

His Beautiful Heart

This morning my boy came to me with worry in his eyes.

I was asleep last night (on my couch) when he got home and although he came in and gave me a very tender hug and kissed my bare shoulder, we didn’t get to spend much time together yesterday at all.  His dad knew I was *out* for the night and accommodated, as he does, by letting Colt know that mommy wasn’t feeling well and needed a good, long sleep to feel better again.

So, the eyes this morning…worried blue.  I sat down next to him at the table and he reached up and touched my face (he has a teacher that cradles his face with her hands when she sees him – he finds it so relaxing when she does it that he is starting to apply it elsewhere.  Amazing for him).  He said,

“Mom, I missed you last night and it made me heart drop”

“You heart dropped! Oh no…I don’t like that sound of that!”  I put my hands on his chest and back and started massaging his “heart”

“Yes mom, when you are sick my heart drops and falls on the ground and it breaks.  My heart broke because you were sick mommy.”
I asked him if it was better now that I was okay again and he lit up like a star and threw his arms around my neck.   Without his little sparks of brightness in my life, things would be so dark.

I’m so thankful.

 

The Most Beautiful Words

Originally posted October 21, 2011

Colt taught me, last night, that the little things can totally change someone’s day.  

He didn’t even call me into the room…I happened to be passing through on my way to put some laundry upstairs.  I asked him what he was doing and he said,

“Makin some words mom.”

I asked what kind of words.  He answered,

“They are the most beautiful words I know.”

I took a peek at his computer table and this is what I found…
(life is just so good, when you catch it at the right moments, isn’t it?)