War to win

Insurance.

Every special needs parent's nightmare: the paperwork, the phone calls, the "do you accept it or don't you?" conversations, the co-pays if you have them, etc.

I have been dealing with insurance since eight o'clock this morning.

Specifically, the fact that Kai suddenly doesn't HAVE insurance.

Why, you ask?

Well, here's the jumbled explanation I got:

DCF, who covers the Medicaid system in our area, claims that Kai is supposed to be covered under Social Security.

Social Security, who of course handles Kai's SSI, claims that Kai is supposed to be covered under state Medicaid because he is not on SSDI.

DCF responds with "Well, our records indicate that he is on SSDI."

Kai is not and has never been on SSDI. Someone somewhere screwed up and now my kid is left without insurance until whoever that was gets it together. And you can bet I'm not going to rest until it's fixed.

In the meantime, my son can now not get his medications. So, his albuterol for his nebulizer for when he can't breathe? Gone. His DDAVP for his blood disorder? Gone. His therapy? Nope. Surgery? Nope. New braces or alternatives? Nope. Shots? Nope. Nothing.

So, Mom made a few phone calls. And now I have several people involved in this, including a lawyer willing to take them to court if we need to to get this fixed. I've been fighting since JULY to get this fixed. They gave him insurance for a month. A month. And now, when he's almost out of life-saving medications and is supposed to be having an appointment to set up a badly needed surgery, they yank it from him. Hmmm...nope, don't think so.

'Scuse me folks, looks like I've got a war to win. :-D

Imperfection

Today, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

You came running out of your room, all excited and babbling and talking at the top of your lungs. And I yelled at you to be quiet, because Mommy's head hurt and I couldn't stand the noise.

You played together, making all sorts of messes and noise, and I yelled at you to knock it off. Because my head was pounding and I couldn't take the noise.

You ran through the house to your room, whooping the whole way, and I yelled at you to keep it down. Because my head was pounding, and the nose was too much for me.

You pestered me to let you watch Winnie the Pooh on Netflix on the computer, and I let you. Then I yelled at you both because one of you touched a button and shut the computer off and I had to do everything all over again. And then the audio was going faster than the video, and I got irritated with you when you kept asking me what was wrong with your movie, and I yelled at you again. Because I had a headache, and no patience.

You asked me fifteen times in a row (I counted) for juice. And fourteen times, I answered yes. The fifteenth time, I whipped around from the counter where I was pouring  your juice and snapped at you to quit asking me because you could quite plainly see I was in process of getting you your juice. I know exactly why you were doing it-it's something you've always done and probably will always do. It's part of your autism, and I know that. But today, for a moment, I forgot, and I snapped, because I am tired and my head hurts and I don't have any patience.

And then you crawled up onto my lap, put your little arms around my neck and said "Kaikai sorry for being naughty, Mom."

And I realized what message I've been sending you all morning.

You are a 3 year old autistic boy. Your brother is a one and a half year old little boy learning about the world from you, and from me. Neither of you meant to annoy me, or provoke me, or make my pounding head hurt even more.

Yet I was acting like you were the worst children on the planet, like my exhaustion and headache and irritability was all your fault.

I'm sorry, my sweet boys.

You are not naughty. You are good boys who happen to have a mom having a bad day today, and I thoughtlessly took it out on you.

I'm going to let you in on a universal truth about parents: We are not perfect. We do not know everything. We make mistakes. We get crabby and irritable, and we snap at those who don't deserve it.

That doesn't make it okay. Just like when you are having a bad day and you decide to take it out on me or your brother and you get in trouble, Mom shouldn't take it out on you either. And I believe if I'm going to give you consequences when you do it, then I deserve consequences when I do it.

So, my little men, your imperfect, flawed mother is going to give herself a consequence. Beyond apologizing to you both for being crabby to you and yelling at you when I shouldn't have, Mommy is going to go pay the Mom Jar. Remember the jar we started a while ago for when Mom yelled more than she should have? Mom has to pay a dollar when I yell too much. Remember? Well, now Mom's going to pay that jar five dollars-one for each instance this morning when I took my crabbiness, irritability, and headache out on you. And then, when we go to pick up your aunt this afternoon, we're going to take that jar to the store. And you are each going to pick something out for yourselves.

Not because I want to buy your forgiveness for my imperfection, or because I want to bribe you.

Because you deserve to know that you are good boys, and good boys get rewarded for their behavior.

For putting up with my attitude this morning, and for trying to apologize for what you didn't do, you have more than earned a reward.

The Learning Process

You know what the nice thing is about having an entire weekend to devote just to my sweet Byrd? I mean, besides the "only having one kid to handle" thing.

I get to learn things about him I don't notice when he's with his brother.

Like, I know a lot about Kai. A LOT. Kai had two whole years of Mom to himself-I know that kid like the back of my hand. I know that he looks like me, but personalities seem to be inherited, because he has his father's. He's smart, and funny, and very mechanical. And has a temper that would make Hades cringe if you set him off. I know his favorite color is yellow, and that he likes Yoohoo. I know Mater is his favorite Cars character, and he's terrified of Big Bird. I can rattle off his medical history in a minute flat. I could write a book on what I know about my three year old.

Now, of course, this doesn't mean I know nothing about Taryn. I know he's allergic to nuts, and his lungs aren't the greatest and never have been, and that he has to sleep sitting up when he's sick or he can't breathe. I know he loves Thomas the Train, and that he's very mischievous. I know he looks so much like his father, but doesn't act a thing like him. I know his temper could make Hades cringe too, but he doesn't have the hair-trigger like his big brother and father. I know that he has to have his Scout Puppy to sleep, and that if you change his bedtime routine in any way at all, he won't go to bed.

So what have I learned that I didn't know before?

I never knew how much like ME he really is.

I've learned that, while he'll eat chocolate, he'll take fruit over it every time. Just like his mom. I've learned that he really does love to read. Where he won't often sit still for a story with Kai, today he took a book off their shelf and sat on the floor, looking at and studying every page like he was trying to memorize it (never mind that he can't read). He even had the same look of concentration I'm told I have when I'm reading. I've noticed that, though he'll sit in one spot longer than his brother will, like me, he can't stand to sit still-he's always moving somehow. Whether he's tapping his fingers or wiggling his feet or nodding his head, Taryn is never really still.

Yesterday, I took him to the dollar store and bought him a ball. It's just a ball, but that kid is so excited over it. He spent two hours this morning chasing it around the living room, bringing it back to me to have me throw it again and again for him to chase.

And his favorite thing to do, apparently, you ask? Climb up on my lap, put his head on my shoulder, and just watch whatever I'm doing. Whether it's my schoolwork, a blog post, or a movie, he wants to participate with me.

And that floors me. Because Kai never showed much interest in what I was doing. And Taryn...Byrd wants to be with and like his Mommy.

And I never realized that until there was no Kai at home for a day or two to hoard my attention for himself.

I think we really need to work on that. I'm enjoying learning more about my baby.

A Pizza Kind of Night

Oh boy, folks! Wish them luck-my grandparents took Kai for the day! AND they are taking him to a waterfront restaurant! Oh boy. Can anyone say "Nervous wreck!"? Where's that wine? I think I need a glass to calm those pesky nerves...

And after he hangs out with his great grandparents for the day, he's going on a spend the night over to my mom's house (here on referred to lovingly as "Lala") to spend time with Lala, Uncle, and Aunty. If he does well with that, he might get to stay Saturday and come home after church Sunday. Oh boy folks!

Really, where's that wine? OH! In my fridge, that's right ;-)

Meanwhile, I have Mr. Byrd at home, who got spoiled with a new ball today.

Tonight, it's a pizza and wine kind of night. And since it's just Mr. Byrd at home, he gets his favorite pizza: sausage, pepperoni, and romano/parmesan/mozzarella cheese.

Go forth and order pizza for your lovely families, my dears! It's a pizza kind of night.