We Go With Him

Mud Puddles and Moonlight

Even after a characteristically fast-paced bike ride and three walks, Charlie had one of those night owl nights, still awake with 2am approaching.

Unlike the days of the stomach ailment, Charlie was in good spirits. The three walks were (especially the latter two) runs for the most part. I think Charlie joys in the heady rush and release of energy of running very fast in the clear cold air.

We didn't run quite as much on the last stage of the walk, across a field that was a patchwork of pond-like puddles and sticky, sloshy mud. Lit up by a crescent moon and the glow of the lights from New York City to the east, Charlie slogged on, breaking into a run when our house came into view and getting some (though not all) of the mud off his shoes in the process.

He Could Fly!

 

Well, he certainly does on his bike.

 

Still Getting There

 

Charlie has been having good mornings at school that taper off to tougher afternoons. He is certainly better, but not quite out of the woods yet (and, he's been sniffling a bit). I'll wager that, while Charlie is eager to return to his regular eating habits, his stomach is still readjusting, leading to what may be what you could call 'thymic dissonance."

Jim was gone until night teaching and Charlie did handle this well (though why does it seem that bikeride-less days so often have lovely bike-riding weather, complete with January sunshine?). We did two walks in the evening, the first with a very long spate of Charlie running at top speed down the sidewalk; he had had one bout of such very fast running in the midst of distress at school his teacher told me. In the evening, Charlie was more pensive than anything else.

At home, he went up to his room after standing and staring at his feet for some time in select spaces in the kitchen and living room. When I glancde in, Charlie seemed on the verge of sleep but then got up and wanted the second walk -- it's a pattern we've over noted, that Charlie appears to be all drowsy-eyed and ready to conk out and then he spring up and has quite a bit of energy.

Jim was already home when we got back from the second walk and Charlie went to bed and fell asleep to one his Disney albums. One of the last songs is 'When You Wish Upon a Star.' He's never seen the movie of Pinocchio or heard the story -- I will try to show him some of the movie, for something different.

 

Random Bit of Progress, Duly Noted

 

Amid being sick (all that I've been talking about for weeks, it seems), Charlie started to recycle aluminum cans, all on his own and just from watching us. We had been trying to show him to place them in a bag we have for recycling, rather than tossing them in the garbage; I had a feeling that being told to do this was evoking some cognitive dissonance in Charlie and was not insisting on it. (When is trash not trash....)Then about 2 weeks ago, Charlie started recycling on his own, sua sponte.

Tuesday he had a great morning at school and then got upset at lunch; am suspecting his stomach is still acting up. Yesterday's rain had washed away almost all the snow and he enjoyed a bike ride, handled not getting a burrito well, went for a very fast-paced walk and then spent the rest of the evening mostly in his room, listening to his iPad and smiling when I brought him a drink of water.

 

Fable of the Staples

 

So we whisked Charlie into the white car soon as he got off the bus and went, in the pouring rain, to the pediatricia, to have the staples removed. The nurse practitioner had her head lamp ready and the staple remover the hospital had given us. She felt the back of Charlie's head over and over and said, puzzled, 'I can't find any staples.'

Whereupon, Charlie found himself sitting in a chair with three adults inspecting the back of his head and giving him an extensive cranial massage. The nurse found the cut and noted it was healing very nicely. But no staples.

'That's the first time I've ever had this happen,' she said to me after Charlie (who had said a fast good-bye) and Jim had departed. I said I'd do a careful inspection of Charlie's room in case he had somehow gotten them out himself.

We went to get some groceries and Charlie helped to bag some things and carried them out, with a smile. But he was stricken at home when we looked at his food schedule and saw that Monday was a groceries day, not a burrito one.

He moped and I went into the kitchen and heated up some fish sticks (which Charlie has refused for years) and some French fries. Charlie came in and munched on apples while everything was in the oven. Without any ado, he ate small bites of fish sticks, potatoes, more fruit, got himself something to drink.

Then we went on a walk in a misty rain and across our field which resembled more a mottled, semi-frozen pond of snow, slush and dead grass amid which, Charlie found the one plastic bottle to step on (it made an extremely loud crunch). Once home, he went eagerly up to his room and settled down, cozy and content, with his iPad and blue blanket, and grinned me good night.

I'll let you know if I find the staples.

 

Back to the Beach With Bikes

I think it was July or sometime in August that we last went to the beach. Whether because the waves were not as he wanted or the crowds bothered him or he was vexed that he could not swim as far as he wanted, Charlie got so upset that we had to pull the car over on the shoulder of the Garden State Parkway and things were not pretty.

After that, Jim and I agreed it just wasn't worth it. What was supposed to be a fun family outing had become an all-out stress-filled experience from start to finish, including the time at the beach itself. Afterwards, Charlie himself did not ask to return to the beach all summer and I'm not sure how much he missed it.

With snow, slush and ice on the ground here in north-central New Jersey after the Saturday snowstorm, we decided to venture back down to the beach. Jim surmised there probably wouldn't be any snow by the ocean.

He was right. Charlie smiled some as drove towards the beach but was a bit tentative. He got right out of the car, put on his biking gear and he and Jim pedaled off without further ado. I passed them and waved as I drove 18 miles south; they rode up 90 minutes later, just as the sun was coming up. 'We could smell the ocean all the way!' Jim enthused.

Well, if you know Jim, he always enthuses about the ocean and the beach and this beach in particular, but he had an extra reason to do so Sunday. He and Charlie had had a terrific ride with a strong wind at their backs. As it is the off-season, there was no traffic and they had the road to themselves. We put the bikes and gear away quickly and Charlie proceeded to eat the box of crackers I had concealed in my backpack. We stopped at McDonalds afterwards and only towards the last stage of the ride home could we see Charlie getting antsy. He wanted more to eat after we were home and then seemed uneasy and then went straight to bed and fell asleep at 7pm.

He is still getting over that wretched stomach illness and 18 miles is, by any stretch of the imagine, a good workout. We anticipated that being back at the ocean would be both a treat and also the source of worries, sadness, mixed feelings. Charlie had known we were going but we had not make a big deal about it -- no social story or some such -- as we figured that thinking about a beach trip in advance meant that Charlie would feel compelled to get the boogie board and wear his swim suit and then he'd want to get in the water.

And, Saturday night, he had stayed up past midnight, vexed about the staples. I told him they would come out on Monday. Charlie sat on his bed and looked woebegone.

Hopefully the beach trip was a distraction in a good way. Certainly it was a beauteous thing to be back beside the ocean. Self-imposed exile from a place you love is sometimes necessary. We shall see if semi-regular trips back might be in the offing.

 

2 New Things on 1 Snowy Day

It snowed on Saturday, a bit of perfect time as Charlie was still in need of a little r 'n' r.

He has a new big brown chair and, after an initial 'no,' is making himself comfortable in it (he woke at 6am then slept for 3 hours in the chair). He  also assented to wearing boots -- he has been only wanting to wear his black slip-on shoes -- for an afternoon walk.

Simplex Elegans: Visual Food Schedule on the iPad

 

I made this picture schedule (using Pages and the Storyboard template) to help Chalrie only eat some things on some days. I saved the schedule as a photo (jpeg file), emailed it, then saved it on his iPad. He can X out days using the Doodle Buddy app.

Charlie wasn't quite sure what to make of the schedule earlier this week. I kept showing it to him and modeling X'ing out each day. On Friday, following a decent day at school (though he petered out by the end), he went on his usual bike ride with Jim but didn't (as Charlie has been doing a lot of late) spend much of the bike ride asking for a burrito or other food item. Charlie just rode his bike.

Friday was a night I had put down for him having a burrito so (after looking at the schedule together), we went out for one. Charlie enjoyed it (and kept it down). 

I'm planning on making a new 'food schedule' for Charlie every week and slipping in different foods in what is something of a simplex elegans -- 'elegant in its simplicity' -- solution (which indeed describes some of the best 'innovations' for Charlie).

 

Feeling Better

 

Charlie slept past the bus on Thursday only to wake at 8.30am and demand that he go to school. We drove him up, he went cheerily in and we had a very good meeting with his teacher, behaviorist and some others and left with some concrete solutions.

Unlike his usual self, Charlie did not eat much after getting back from school or for the rest of the day. On a good-paced bike ride and a walk, he was in good spirits and smiled lots as he paced around the house and stretched out in his room with his iPad, even though he didn't sleep till after midnight.

I'd say he is feeling far better than he has in a while.

 

1 2 Sucker Punch

Charlie was weary at school but made it through the day, made it through Jim being gone all day, went for walk 1 (before a deep 2 hour nap of exhaustion) and walk 2 (just before Jim came home.

Then he got extremely, extremely sick in the bathroom. The hour-plus it took to scrub away with lots of soap and hot water was more than worth it, as Charlie clearly felt better, and Jim and I had a far clearer sense of his extreme distress on Tuesday night, and I think it is accurate to say that Charlie has been virulently, violently sick from this stomach ailment.

Past midnight he asked for a walk and went back to his room when we said it was late and he'd just been sick and then his stomach acted up yet again.

Charlie was still awake past 2am though clearly feeling much better (maybe he wants to be up to enjoy feeling better again).

 

Chain Reaction

So I think Charlie's stomach aiment may be a three or four week ordeal. I know, fasten your seatbelt.

One things sets off another thing. A stomach ailment leads to so much discomfort Charlie has a rough week and b angs his head and ends up at ER and has staples put in his head, leading to more woes about the back of his head hurting though he's not able tell us or anyone such that Tuesday morning is one of Charlie's toughest ever at school.

He gets home ok, enjoys his bike rides and wants three walks and his stomach is feeling better, then can't sleep and knocks his head on the wall while overloading on iPad music, leading to a scene at home in his room like the one at school in the morning, after which, Charlie, realizing that Jim starts teaching Wednesday, gets out of bed and sits in the black chair till almost 2am saying 'No New York" very loudly. He finally lies down to sleep, stil mournful.

"We'll get through it together," we had said to Charlie. "Together," he'd echoed.

I've a few calls to two doctors' offices to make on Wednesday.

Sometimes Holidays Are Well-Timed

 

Freezing rain fell all Monday night so there were no walks. Charlie had had two vigorous bike rides with Jim and -- still recovering from being sick / still being sick -- had slept in and dozed off in the afternoon, so it was good he had the day off from school for MLK Jr. day. He went to bed at the usual time and woke just before 4am and asked for a walk.

It's no longer raining so after a bit more time passes, we'll head out, hopefully into a week with less (behavioral, thymic) storminess.

The Boy Who Tries So Hard

Sunday was the coldest yet of this winter. In -1 or -4 Celsius or some such weather, Charlie and Jim rode bikes (brrrrrrrr), Charlie and I walked, Charlie and Jim walked, and Jim and I were thankful yet again that we bought majorly puffy tan LL Bean parkas when we moved to St. Paul back in 1998.

Charlie was still (we think) feeling ill. He was awake (with his ever-patient dad; I've been finishing a paper and couldn't help conking out on the couch) from 1 - 5am, slamming doors hard and crying. We suspected that he was still queasy from the stomach ailment and feeling the after-effects of being in the ER on Thursday and getting a shot and staples on the back of his head (I would certainly be feeling lag if that had happened to me).

We all slept in, Charlie the latest of all (so I not only finished the paper, I sent it off). He enjoyed an unexpected trip to get some groceries and waited smiling in line along with what seemed like half the population of the neighboring town (freezing weather brings out the need to stock up, I suppose). We did some errands and then Charlie (and Jim) took their turns conking out on the couch.

On waking, Charlie was thinking "burrito" and we were hard-pressed to explain how his stomach ailment, Saturday's getting nauseous in the car after eating said food item, and the need to limit burrito-eating to a few times a week, meant that we would not go. He alternately grimness and grins as he listened and sat with his hands on the side of his face. I said I'd make dinner and went to the kitchen and made rice and chopped chicken. Charlie came in and threw my phone in a perfect parabola.

Stomach and adolescent boy mad-at-mom-ness, I would say.

A walk with just Jim was a good idea and Charlie ate a little rice on returning then went upstairs. More slam, slam, slam, tears.

I said to myself, a few days' illness for most people is a two-plus week ordeal for Charlie as he tries to figure out what's going on, tries to endure being sick, tries to get better, tries to deal with all the things he did but didn't mean to because he was sick but now has to face up to.  It's enough to make anyone hibernate for a few days.

And indeed, slammed doors and a thrown phone are not good, but, in some ways, a bit of progress in our household.

Sometimes It All Makes Sense

 

We got Charlie a burrito after a very brisk bike ride cut short by the trail being closed for repairs. He was smiling as we got it and ate quickly and then we heard loud coughing and hacking and, well, it was good we had a spare paper bag in the car but plastic would have been better.

When Charlie was home, showered and conked out on his bed, the BBC producer called, told me what was going on with the filming and mentioned that several of the children and teachers at Charlie's school had come down with a stomach illness.

Which Charlie must have had brewing in his system starting on Monday if not earlier? And becoming full-fledged stomach distress on Thursday? His asking so ardently for a burrito was a sign that his stomach was very, very out of sorts. By knocking his head so hard on the wall he ended up with another pain to worry about.

He turned on John Coltrane and some nature music he hasn't listened to in a long while and was altogether much happier Saturday afternoon and evening than he had been in a week.

 

Rearranging the Space

Charlie got himself up for the bus, only to fall asleep soon after getting to school. He asked for a bike ride, -1 degree Celsius weather and all. He didn't ask for a burrito. We did get him burgers at our local McDonalds, scene of an end-of-last-year difficult moment; Charlie only ate the actual burgers, leaving buns, paper wrappers, ketchup and fries in the bag he handed me.

Jim had made plans a few weeks ago to visit the Catholic Worker in Lower Manhattan Friday night. As we drove to the hospital on Thursday, he was making plans not to go. Charlie was quiet in the backseat and I said to Jim, he should still go, though leave open the flexible option of not doing so 'just in case.'

Friday night, we dropped Jim off at the train and Charlie, once home, went to eat some watermelon, then went up to his room, then back down for a walk. It was a quite frosty one, though in the still and the dark, the full moon now gone.

I gave him some Advil when we came back. I kept my language so minimal I didn't say more than ten words the whole evening, just communicated via gesture, handing Charlie this or that. He to bed and lay down on his stomach. He likes to sleep on his back (and has, since a baby) but that might not be so comfortable until the staples come out, the Monday after next. I pulled the sheets around him and went downstairs.

The first floor of our house has been transformed. After Charlie was asleep Thursday night, Jim and I started thinking of how to help Charlie through the latest OCD rut he has been in. My desk has been rather in the middle of the room as, after we moved back into our house, there was no other place for it. But the futon we used to have by the window is gone and Jim thought we could move my desk there and then the living and dining room would be one big wide open space.

I moved my desk right after Charlie was on the bus and, as you know happens when you move furniture, you start to move all sorts of things. Piles of books, files, another chair. I'm quite pleased by the new arrangement: I'm now right by a window and have much more natural light, plus I rather like being in a corner space.

Jim and I also talked about getting a nice big cushy chair for Charlie to use upstairs. He is not inclined to sit at a desk but I could see him plunking down in a chair by the windows that look out on our street, iPad in his lap.

Before 9.30pm, Charlie was asleep, on his side. Past midnight, he was coughing and stirring a bit: Needless to say, it's been a lot to process this week.