So we had our very eventful day of appointments yesterday. It was a weird day — I felt like I was sort of watching my life all day.
So Jack and I were driving to the pediatrician, to talk to her about the staring spells. I had captured one on my iPhone Wednesday night, because they asked me if I could to show them, in case it didn’t happen during the appointment.
The video I have is about 20 seconds long (I’m too cheap to pay the tiny fee to host video on this site, so sorry) (and I like how I talk about being cheap in a paragraph below one where I talk about my stupidly expensive phone). It’s … upsetting. In it, Jack clearly zones out for long enough that it feels awkward just watching it. I can’t imagine living it. He’s eating ice cream, stops, stares for an uncomfortably long time, then just starts eating again like nothing happened.
I told him we were going to the doctor and he said, “Mom, am I sick?”
No, buddy, you are perfect. The radio was playing Buddy Holly’s “Oh, Boy!” on the way to the doctor, and as I sang, I just started crying. “I want the world to see that you, were meant, for me.”
Every parent feels that way about their kid. I felt it even more so on Thursday. Jack is meant for me. He’s perfect for us.
So at the doctor, I showed her the video and her response: “Oh, that’s weird.”
Yes, exactly. Weird. She dismissed most of my fears about Jack, and doesn’t think he has autism, but she did ask us to keep the autism screening we have in July, in case.
And if that is the case, constant interruption in his poor little brain would explain why he is behind on some skills. My guy.
Next up we had the report from the school district, to see the results of all the screenings.
The good news: Jack is perfectly normal in many areas. Though they noticed some “quirks,” as they put it, and also thought going ahead with the screening is a good idea.
The bad news: He failed fine and gross motor. He’s in the 3rd percentile for those skills, which is upsetting. And so weird. The kid can ride a balance bike for miles, but can’t jump off a step.
The crabby news: He doesn’t qualify for free pre-school or any help because motor — fine and gross — counts as only one category and you need to fail two. I’m thrilled he passed the cognitive and social tests — he’s a smart, sweet boy, and they all noted that. But I wish we were able to get some help for his motor skills.
So, there we are. Maybe seizures. Maybe Asperger’s. Definitely something. But we still aren’t sure.
I picked the kids up from school early so we could enjoy some time outside yesterday.Viv hates when we take her photo anymore. She cries and yells, “No cheese! No!” Turkey! Jack was just thrilled he had the little watering can all to himself.
And lastly, in random running news, I did a lame and very hot 6 miles yesterday listening to some music. And one of my favorite songs came on – “Visions of Johanna” by Bob Dylan, and I just laughed thinking of the lyrics:
Ain’t it just like the night to play tricks when you’re tryin’ to be so quiet ?
We sit here stranded, though we’re all doin’ our best to deny it