Taking a breath

Sue had a nice mini-break in Portugal on the weekend which left Emily and I to our own devices. Father - daughter bonding or father utter frustration at child?

Well, it was a mix of both. 

We went to an engagement "party" at a pub on Sunday and I spent the entire time chasing Emily and making sure she didn't get up to mischief of one kind or another... and she did. She constantly walked straight out the front door like she knew what she was doing. 

It was quite a relaxing feeling leaving really, as I knew she couldn't BUDGE from her car seat the whole way home. 

We're also TRYING to sort out this dreaded potty training. Trouble is she just won't tell us when  she needs to go - we have to almost be clairvoyant, judging her facial expressions and body language correctly.

Tonight she was doubled over, so I knew a brown loaf was brewing. Sitting her NEAR the potty elicited the usual squeaks and squawks she lets out when she doesn't want to do something. Moments later, her back end smelled worse than Wallington Asda (which is next to a sewage treatment plant and generally smells of it).

Speaking of Asda, we had some father - daughter bonding time there this evening, in between bouts of father CHASING daughter time. Sometimes I think I'm too old to be a father. 

Anyway, in between picking out loaves of bread and bags of peppers, Emily decided she wanted to do "whizzies", which is basically me holding her in my arms and spinning around. She looked right into my eyes (a good thing, from our speech and language therapy lessons) and said "one, two, three" at which point I spin us both around. This was met by bit smiles and laughter. Rinse and repeat about 10 times. 

When I put her down, she then proceeded to try and do "Ring a Ring a Rosie". Are there less subtle ways for a child to tell a parent they're ready to leave? I don't think so.

Emily and her Doors

Emily had this obsession for ages that doors and drawers need to be closed.

It came to a head a couple of time, when Emily couldn't close doors for one reason or another and proceeded to break down.

While we were on holiday in France last October she actually went out of her way to close doors as well. She'd be in the throws of having a book read to her, drink in one hand biscuit in t'other and then, out of the corner of her eye, she'd spy the door leading into the hallway was OPEN!

Quick as you like, the story and snack were quickly forgotten in order to save the sanctity of the closed door.

Lately, apart from ensuring all drawers are closed - sometimes while Sue or I are still rummaging in them - her anal desire to have EVERY door closed had abated.

In the last week or so it seems to have reared it's ugly head and Emily can't properly relax until the two doors in the living room are closed (or as closed as they can be). Any attempt to maintain their openness results in Emily breaking whatever activity she's engaged in - usually reading or jumping up and down to a Peppa Pig DVD - and ensuring the sanctity of the closed door.

With summer here, we're trying to maintain as much through breeze as possible and Emily's OCD door issues are really ensuring that the living room is breeze free. Thanks OCD, thanks a lot.

Potty training

Having spent a few weekends attempting to get Emily potty trained - to rather disappointingly wet results - this weekend we decided to give it another go.

Albert Einstein once said that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. If that's true, Sue and I were completely off our mental rocker this weekend.

However, it paid dividends. Whenever Emily looked the slightest bit perturbed "down there" we raced off to put her on her potty. FOUR times this weekend we were rewarded with a pot full of brown "reward" which we then had to duly dispose of.

It's funny, with potty training - either result is a disappointment. If they don't do anything, you're sad; if they do something, you have to clean it up and you're sad.

The funny thing now is that we were changing Emily's nappy when it reeked. With her business now being disposed of the proper way, her nappies are getting a lot heavier with wee as we can't really gauge, through smell, the best times to change her.

Oh and we need to train her to do number ones in the potty too. This whole training thing really sucks.

Related articles

• Potty Training is So Tiring (parenting-success.com)

Emily got into Dragonflies

Today was the day the decision team decided who was getting into Dragonflies and who wasn't.

From everything we've heard, seen and been told Emily would SERIOUSLY benefit from attending the school. Daily and weekly therapies and just an overall approach that benefits children who have disabilities.

It got to the point where we were becoming despondent thing about what would happen if she DIDN'T get in. There was a Plan B, but in the grand scheme of things it was more like a Plan R.

Thankfully, Sue called me this evening, slightly choked up, to give me the news.

Emily will be attending Dragonflies at Thomas Wall School, named after the sausage and ice cream magnate.

Needless to say, Sue and I are massively relieved and I may even crack open a beer to celebrate.

Toilet training - the forceful way

We've got a pretty slow weekend planned, so it was decided that we'd do some forceful toilet training with Emily.

We've put her on her potty with no nappy on and let her read books on going to the loo (loo, loo).

She's also wearing cotton kecks, so if she does ANY sort of business, she's going to feel it and be uncomfortable.

Well, as predictable as Emily is. She managed to do her first movement and it was a brown, sloppy, wet one. It's the kind of result that makes you want to stick to nappies indefinitely.

It's all cleaned up and she's in a further pair of cotton kecks, but we're careful not to let her near the carpet or anything upholstered. Thankfully, it's mercilessly hot day outside so we can live in the backyard without feeling like we're weather torturing the poor child.

More business news as it unfolds... or more likely "seeps" or "dribbles".

Related articles

• Toilet training - the beginnings (bubbytimes.blogspot.com)

More words and making herself understood - "hong wee"?

Emily's getting there making herself understood. It's still a ways to go though.

This evening while I was making dinner, she brought me a box of cereal, telling me what I believe was "hungry"... which obviously sounded a bit more like "hong wee".

She's still crying when she's thirsty, hungry, tired, bored, etc. but these little flashes are a good sign we're on the right track.

Slackass in posting - The May 2011 update

It's been about a month since my last confession... I mean post.

In that time, nothing of any REAL note has happened regarding Emily. She hasn't written a thesis or magically started talking on complete sentences, etc.

However, there have been marginal gains in her language and development issues. We've always recited books and sung songs with her leaving out the odd word for her to fill in. Recently we've been leaving more and more words out, to the point where some songs like "Baa Baa Black Sheep" she can sing all by herself.

This is probably an important milestone in her development, but she still blanks pretty much everyone around her - never saying hello, even when Sue comes home. It can be quite heartbreaking being COMPLETELY ignored by your own child... well, until she becomes a teenager.

We're currently in a holding pattern. 8 June we find out if Emily gets into Dragonflies, the specialist pre-school for children with "issues". If not, we fall back to plan B - the local montessori school, with minimal provision for helping the lessor developed.

I've also started a new job in the last two weeks, and the odd day calls for me to be in the office in Windsor. This has meant a bit of a role reversal for Sue and I - as I am now leaving early and arriving home late. Some nights I've not even seen Emily, she's already asleep. I really understand how Sue has felt the times she's come home and Em's been asleep. Sometimes going a couple of days without seeing her - if it's early mornings as well.

Tomorrow we're off to Legoland, so it will be interesting to see how Emily interacts with her surroundings. I assume she's find a bookstore and hole up in there until it's time to go.

Learning these little phrases

We've been in Oz now for a few weeks and Emily has had 24/7 mummy and daddy time (well, I was in the UK for her first week here). During this time, it's quite evident that she's come on leaps and bounds in certain areas of her development.

On the flight to Melbourne, she had tired of her books so we took out the in-flight magazine to look at. Always a winner with kids! We got to the menu page and Emily grabbed my finger and started pointing to various pictures for me to tell her what they are. On the facing page was an ad for watches, and an ad for coffee machines.

Somehow, over the Melbourne trip all I had to say (with or without magazine present) was "watch" and her face lit up and she attempted to say "coffee machine" which actually came out more like "cobbee machine".

On our camping trip, a similar thing happened with a Stuart Little 2 story book. We got to a page, the old point and tell happened and for the rest of the trip, we talked about "sky, whoosh, lady, waiter". Nanny Pat even got into the act and when Emily said "sky" she looked cheekily at Pat to say it in a funny voice.

Yesterday in the car as we waited to leave the campsite, Emily was babbling to herself - in that toddlerspeak that only toddlers understand - and I could clearly make out the odd line from one of her favourite books - "Hairy MacLary's Bone". She knows the book well enough to fill in the words I leave out when I recite it, but it sounded like she didn't need me at all to recite the book anymore.

Having had other kids around of similar ages while we've been on holiday, it's obvious (sometimes depressingly so) how much work Emily has to do to catch up to where she should be. There's been some good stuff happen and she's learned lots of new (arguably useless) phrases and proven that she's got a wicked retention for things. I'm just a bit concerned. As a father, I don't think that feeling ever truly goes away.

Disability allowance

A couple of months ago during a routine visit from Sheila from Portage, she raised the issue of Disability Living Allowance and whether we'd applied for it. Like any parent without a seriously disabled child (Down's syndrome, missing limbs, etc.) we didn't think we could get it. Having been told it's for any parents who go above and beyond what is considered normal to raise a child, we decided to apply for it. The worst that could happen? We're told Emily's too normal and get rejected.

It was rather bittersweet that I came home today to an envelope from the DLA to tell us that we've been accepted to receive this. I assume it's not as much as a child in a wheelchair or who needs round the clock care, but it's enough to offset speech therapy and some of the specialist things we've bought Emily to help her get over her language and speech delays.

Poop in the loo

It's a bit of a cheat, but tonight is the first time Emily actually dropped one into the loo proper.

She was bent over, as we all do sometimes, with a manic pushing look on her face. A quick check led to the affirmative that the turtle was trying to escape. As quick as you like, we ran up to the loo, dropped trou and proceeded... to wait.

A few songs later, I could see the little chocolate Hershey kiss (I KNEW there was a reason I didn't eat them!) dangling quite resolutely between cheeks and loo. A quick "shake" and the American chocolate's namesake was right where the American chocolate deserved to be.

I don't know what Emily got out of the first "I've done a poo on an actual toilet" moment. I fear not much. I praised her, like you do, but I think it's going to take a few more attempts to get her to really understand that what she did should be the norm, and taking a dump in a nappy should be the exception.