Happy Sunday

My poor man is a volcano. Of vomit. And has been since about 6:00 this morning. I hate it when he's sick, like any mom, and that overwhelming since of not being able to fix it takes over and you find yourself offering things that make no sense (can I hold your hair? oh, wait, you are a boy...maybe not).

Let's just all pray that the Great GI bug of 2010:
a) goes away as quickly as it came;
b) has agreed to cease and desist for the day (I seriously don't think my house could smell anymore uninviting; and
c) that it does not make its way from child to mommy to daddy (because mommy has a date with Chris Botti Tuesday night and I will go whether I am full on Linda Blair or not. I will, I tell you).

Now, mommy and daddy swear that they have some super gene that protects them from contracting the usual stomach bugs but as soon as we think that, one of us is sure to be lying naked on the bathroom floor because "it's cold, I just need to be cold." (What is it exactly about the bathroom floor that makes you feel better anyway...if you think about it, do you want to be cheek-pressed on the bathroom floor? In a bathroom your leaky, CDC children use? Yeah, no).

I've not touched food nor water all day hoping that if I deprive said bug of substance it will move on to another host. Which of course means I will be binge eating in less than an hour. But for now, eating in this house is right up there with eating in a hospital, a bus stop or a bathroom at the fairgrounds -- ain't gonna happen. (Yes, I liken those things to each other because they all skeeve me out in their own very special way.)

At what age do kids start voluntarily making it to the bathroom before losing their lunch anyway? Because I'd like to give myself and my husband that glimmer of hope at the end of the vile tunnel. Little people throw up anywhere. And everywhere unfortunately. Ugh. I feel like I need to be Silkwood-ed or HAZMT-ed or something. Boiled? No?

We are quiet inside, he's finally asleep on the sofa, our lovely black sailcloth curtains are keeping out all the light and I'm sure our neighbors think we are having a Boo Radley day. Let's just hope it works to recuperate the wild thing that is my child and return him to his normal state.

Fingers crossed and candles lit. (Oh, lots of candles lit...especially of the aromatherapy variety.)

Well that seemed to work

I recently read several blogs and articles about Jenny McCarthy getting quite a bit of grief from parents who have tried biomed treatments on their children with no results. Well, I'd like to say, in her defense, she was and has always been very up front about the fact that it works for some children. And I think people are missing the point, she is not advocating for no vaccines, she's advocating for GREEN vaccines. Whenever there is a herald for a cause that's controversial, that person usually, historically, gets burned for the wrong reasons.

Ok, I had to have a soap box moment there for Jenny. She's revolutionized the way we approach this subject and I salute her.

We are still in the experimental phase of all of this. But I can attest to something, supplements seem to make a huge impact on my child. Last week, we ran out of his multi with extra B's and magnesium. So I thought, hey, maybe I'll take a "break break" and see if his behavior changes being off the supplement. I would like to apologize at this point to my son's school for this past week. I am surprised there was not breaking news on the local tv station "Local Boy Takes Over School and Holds Everyone Hostage in Library." I mean, really. Difference? Like you would not believe.

Now, I'm not 100% certain that it's just the lack of B vitamins and magnesium (said to calm children with ADD, ADHD, ASD, etc.) but I am very confident it played a big hand in him having three red choices today, three red choices yesterday. Big fat red sticker in his folder. Oy. But, hey, at least now I know. He went back on B and magnesium supplements yesterday, a Superfood "scooby snack" (this is what we call them to get him to consume the darn things) with even more B vitamins. Hopefully his teacher will resume talking to me next week. I can't be sure. I imagine she has my photo on a dart board at home.

The great thing (the difficult thing) is that even though he was a little more all over the place and somewhat belligerent, ahem, it's so hard to not smile and/or laugh when he comes in from school and tells me, in detail, what he did and why he did it. When you have a child who really couldn't tell you "because...." a year ago and now he is giving you the reason he threw a fit in the library and says, "i'll never be happy again" because he didn't get the book he wanted, it's pretty hard to cough back a chuckle and be happy. But still, he gets time out like every other child on earth. If he can explain to me why he's being a buttukus, he can very much decide to make green choices! (Still, "I'll never be happy again..." hilarious.)

The point of the matter is supplements and diet do work for some children. I'm so excited to see the changes and progress with Jude it's impossible for me to say that these tactics do not work. Do I think they'll work for everyone? No. Do I think every tactic will work with him? No, I don't. But what I do know is when your child is dangling in some gray area that you can pull him out of by at least trying something, it's worth it. And if it doesn't work, like everything else in life, you pick yourself up, dust yourself, and try all over again. If Jenny McCarthy has taught us mothers of atypical children anything, it's to never lose hope. Hope will get you through just about any situation, no matter how difficult or trying. And, really, that's half the battle.

xo,
kvlm