So the past few weeks have passed in a blur of fevers, chills and general feeling yucky. What I presumed was a simple flu turned out to be pneumonia. I don't do things by half, after all if you are going to be sick go all out! Thank goodness for Rock Star Daddy as he has basically taken over all parental duties for the past fornight while I have been comatose in bed. It did give him a chance to see exactly how much I do everyday with the Superhero and the Princess. I am now a Super mummy in his eyes which is nice!
All this illness meant of course that the GFCFSF diet was put on hiatus (I'm not that cruel that I would make Rock Star Daddy implement it on his own) so the house is still full of yummy naughty things while I recover. So for now I will lie on the couch surround by chaos eating snacky things as sick people do and swearing that as soon as I get energy again I will get everything in order. Honest
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
It's time to clean house
I mean this both metaphorically and literally. The place is a pig sty and instead of getting up and working that elbow grease I am practically comatose with tiredness on the couch. The princess does not like to sleep. The princess wants to feed 24/7. The superhero is tired all the time. The superhero does not want to feed at all. It seems its all or nothing with my lot. The happy medium is an elusive dream.
So in order to try regulate the two of them the plan is to go GFCFSF. My life seems to be one long acronym now. We have been advised that the Superhero and the Princess have high intolerences to gluten, casein and soya. To the Superhero it acts like morphin, doping him up and fogging his brain. To the Princess, it acts like a toxin, irritating her skin and tummy so she vomits. In order to help them both we have to cut all this out of our diets. Hard enough when you eat a wide range of things but for the Superhero it practically cuts his food intake in half. So why bother even trying it? Countless mums have said it has cured the excema that their kids had, gotten rid of their childs reflux and after a number of weeks enabled their brood to eat a whole new range of foods. So I have to stiffen my lip, prepare the cupboards and say goodbye to all my favourite foods. This may actually kill me but such is my desperation that I will give it a shot. Tonight though, I feast. Chocolate chessecake anyone?
So in order to try regulate the two of them the plan is to go GFCFSF. My life seems to be one long acronym now. We have been advised that the Superhero and the Princess have high intolerences to gluten, casein and soya. To the Superhero it acts like morphin, doping him up and fogging his brain. To the Princess, it acts like a toxin, irritating her skin and tummy so she vomits. In order to help them both we have to cut all this out of our diets. Hard enough when you eat a wide range of things but for the Superhero it practically cuts his food intake in half. So why bother even trying it? Countless mums have said it has cured the excema that their kids had, gotten rid of their childs reflux and after a number of weeks enabled their brood to eat a whole new range of foods. So I have to stiffen my lip, prepare the cupboards and say goodbye to all my favourite foods. This may actually kill me but such is my desperation that I will give it a shot. Tonight though, I feast. Chocolate chessecake anyone?
Thursday, March 1, 2012
So here it is
Intro to Us
The day I officially became a fully paid up member of the mummy club was one of the happiest of my life. I revelled in doing the very best for my son. I imagined his future with glittering success, numerous friends and no complications. I was wrong. Now his future is filled with doubt, worry and a horrible fear of the unknown. All because of one word. AUTISM. It noticeably took a hold of my son when he was 18 months old. Before that there were issues but nothing I couldn't.t handle. I just believed he marched to his own beat. He was advanced for his age and I admit that I would almost gloat about how much he could do compared to other kids. Then a switch was flipped without warning. He went from being able to feed himself and eat all most everything to being unable to hold a spoon and only eating porridge, toast and chips ( the same to date). Whilst I had my suspicions, they weren't confirmed until after his second birthday. I was pregnant with the princess and was told that the Superhero needed to be assessed by the Early Intervention Team. It didn't matter that I was already concerned about him, that I knew he needed help. It still hurt that I was being told that there was something wrong with my baby. I went into shock mode and the next few months passed in a blur. By June I had the first assessment where acronyms such as ASD and SPD where talked about. Speech and Language therapy was organised as was Occupational therapy. A psychologist had to visit to see him play, a dozen questionnaires were filled in, doctors and dietitians were seen and eventually we had a ream of paper, reports etc that all stated the same thing. My Superhero had Autism. And so began a new way of life, of visual schedules, body brushing, sensory therapy, ABA pre-schools and the isolation that comes with it all. Oh Joy.
The day I officially became a fully paid up member of the mummy club was one of the happiest of my life. I revelled in doing the very best for my son. I imagined his future with glittering success, numerous friends and no complications. I was wrong. Now his future is filled with doubt, worry and a horrible fear of the unknown. All because of one word. AUTISM. It noticeably took a hold of my son when he was 18 months old. Before that there were issues but nothing I couldn't.t handle. I just believed he marched to his own beat. He was advanced for his age and I admit that I would almost gloat about how much he could do compared to other kids. Then a switch was flipped without warning. He went from being able to feed himself and eat all most everything to being unable to hold a spoon and only eating porridge, toast and chips ( the same to date). Whilst I had my suspicions, they weren't confirmed until after his second birthday. I was pregnant with the princess and was told that the Superhero needed to be assessed by the Early Intervention Team. It didn't matter that I was already concerned about him, that I knew he needed help. It still hurt that I was being told that there was something wrong with my baby. I went into shock mode and the next few months passed in a blur. By June I had the first assessment where acronyms such as ASD and SPD where talked about. Speech and Language therapy was organised as was Occupational therapy. A psychologist had to visit to see him play, a dozen questionnaires were filled in, doctors and dietitians were seen and eventually we had a ream of paper, reports etc that all stated the same thing. My Superhero had Autism. And so began a new way of life, of visual schedules, body brushing, sensory therapy, ABA pre-schools and the isolation that comes with it all. Oh Joy.
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