Therapy issues….grrr!

What a week! Jack is 3 now! Wow! He is growing so fast, it’s  unbelievable. His eating issues are completely taken care of, and let me tell you, this boy EATS. It doesn’t matter what it is… meat, fruit, veggies, anything. He’s getting taller, he’s filling out, and TALKING! Man, is this kid talking up a storm!

He tells me ‘Wan’t McDonalds.’ I tell him no, we’re having pork chops. He says, ‘No, want McDonalds, mama.’ I tell him again, no, we’re having dinner in two hours, and he’s just had a snack. So he tells me ‘Want go ma-maws. Get McDonalds with ma-maw.’  WHAT? No way! Go play, child! I have gotten onto him for throwing things, and he’ll look at me and tell me ‘Get over it, mama!’ and throws something else. Yes, he has a mouth. We have Hunter to thank for that one.  More on him later.

Jack’s therapy has been stopped at a critical time, for reasons I’m not sure if I can share. He has the standard Foster-Care medicaid, and that has been taking care of all of his medical needs. Now he is on someone’s insurance plan, and all of the therapy places we’ve been recommended don’t take private insurance, only Medicaid. And since he is covered under someone’s private insurance, he can’t get therapy until something is worked out.

I’m just going to lay it all on the line, so I don’t sound petty about this.

Jack has been getting up before we do in the mornings (6:15, Hunter has to be on the bus by 6:45) for a while now. I usually just make him lay back down, and I get him up around 8. Any earlier, and he’s cranky all day long, and I can just forget about doing anything outside of the house.  For the past two weeks, I’ve gone into his room to get him up and found poop smeared EVERYWHERE. I’m talkin’ the beds, the toys, the walls, everything. Then I notice Jack, cowered down in the corner of his bed. He tells me ‘Nasty, Mama.’ and starts to cry. I’m usually retching by this point, and not very happy. THEN I notice the tell-tale signs of it being IN HIS MOUTH. I ask him, in-between retches, if he ate his poop. He tells me, in-between sobs, ‘Wah, (yeah) nasty, want eat.’ So I take him into the bathroom, turn on the shower, and we both get cleaned up. EEEEEEW!!!! I just can’t do the whole ‘ There’s poop on me!’ thing. Nope. So anyways, we get cleaned up, and he goes and lies on the couch while I get the room clean.

Isn’t that the perfect way to start your morning off?

Then comes time for breakfast.  As soon as I head for the kitchen he starts squealing and running and jumping off of things. Excited?  So he eats breakfast. If I’m in a good mood, he gets eggs, toast and oatmeal. If I’m in a hurry or just want him to stop screaming, I fix him cereal or waffles. But not your ordinary amount. It takes 6 eggs, two slices of toast, and a cup of oatmeal to get him to stop throwing a fit for more food. It takes one very large bowl of cereal with a big sippy of milk, and two waffles with two sippies of milk. He’s happy with a normal sized lunch most days, and a normal sized dinner. Every once in a while, he will stop eating on his own before he’s done and tell me he’s full. We PRAISE this, because I want him to learn what that feeling means. I dont think he realizes that his stomach is full, and he will just keep eating.

Jack will also try to eat anything he finds on the floor. It doesn’t matter what it is. A piece of broken toy, carpet fuzz, paper, WHATEVER. If he can chew it, it’s going in his mouth. I have to literally keep an eye on him at all times. He’s ripped an entire blanket and two pillows to shreds to get to the stuffing. He really likes to chew on it. He’s got two chewy-tubes, but he doesn’t always opt to use them.

So, who thinks he still needs therapy? I do for sure. If ONLY so that they can tell me what I can do to handle these things. I’m a very patient, understanding person. I really am. But I can only do so much, you know? We’re okay though. I’ve still got some patience left, and we’re still working on time-outs… for BOTH of us. When I get too frustrated, I go sit down somewhere for three minutes too. It’s working, barely, but working.

So on to Hunter, my other, lesser-known child. I feel like I’ve been pushing him to the back burner lately, with all of the little one’s problems being so up-front-and-in-your-face. I’ve tried to make time where it’s just the two of us, but it’s hard when I’m the only adult at home with both of them. Anyways, he’s doing AWESOME in school! He’s reading like you wouldn’t believe. That makes sense though. In first grade, I was reading books at the 5th grade level. He’s on the 4th grade level now, and I couldn’t be prouder! His math has improved drastically, and his handwriting is excellent! He’s always going to have trouble with his handwriting, being that he’s left handed and a boy. Once we sat down with him and explained that he had to take it slow and concentrate on what he was doing, he’s improved 100%. His teacher reminds him, and he’s even started helping the kids sitting close to him by reminding them to slow down while they’re writing.  He’s such a sweet kid!

Except for when his mouth is running, lately. My god, this kid has picked up an attitude! He comes straight in from school and grabs a black-cherry coke the other day. I told him to put it back, since he didn’t ask. I don’t like them drinking coke. Every so often is fine, but not all the time. It isn’t a good habit, especially at their ages. So, I told him to put it back, and his head pops around the corner. ‘Um, they’re MINE?’ he says, and walks past me with the can in his hand. It took every ounce of will-power I had not to yank his little ass up and blister it. So he’s not allowed to have any soda for a while. He’s just been very mouthy recently. I’m sure it’s a phase, and I’m sure it will repeat itself for many years to come, but I don’t like it one bit. He’s such a good kid that it’s hard to handle the things like this that he does. I have to keep reminding myself that he IS, in fact, only seven.

He has his Cub Scouts uniform inspection tomorrow night, which should be fun! Mrs. Penny told us that they’ll just tell the boys, ‘Oh, your badge is a little crooked, let’s fix that!’ and little things like that. They’re still babies, really, so there wouldn’t be a point in making them feel bad about it. AND, Hunter gets to carry the flag for the ceremony! GO little man! I can’t wait, I’m gonna take a million pictures! :D He has his derby coming up, where they carve cars out of pinewood blocks and race them, so we’ll need to see if papaw can’t open up his shop and help him out with that. I can’t carve it, and Hollie would likely lose a finger or eye, I’m sure.

Next post I’ll probably post  a crapload of pictures from everything. We’ve got Christmas, Jack’s birthday, Cub Scouts, all kinds of stuff. See you then!