Tiny Sparks

Received the dreaded phone call last week, from the Saint who stated that I need to go and meet with her this week to discuss increasing the boy's attendance. Oh how my lovely little bubble of feeling all was well was popped. Of course he needs to increase it, he can not get very far in life on two mornings a week, but I wonder what their goals are?

I am sure that I will be told that there are other children that qualify for his space within the unit and that could attend full time. I am also sure that I will be told that he is a very clever lad who needs the lessons so that he can achieve their recommended number of GCSES. Maybe I could play some type of Bingo in the meeting whereby I tick off the above sentences when they are spoken to me.

Time marches on far too quickly for the boy. In two years time we will be looking at colleges for him to attend once he has finished his GCSEs. He is adamant that he does not want to spend any longer in education than necessary, unfortunately for him and us it looks as if the battles of trying to get him motivated and engaged aren't over yet. Year 7 was so awful in terms of him becoming unwell that I feel we lost a year. It then took another year to help him recover sufficiently to get him into the unit but his health has then fluctuated due to the stress of starting somewhere new, coping with the noises and other students in his class. His sleep is all over the place, because we changed the medication to bedtime so that his nerves were better under control when he woke up. He has only  just started again to suggest activities that he wants to do when he is not at school, so he is no longer totally wiped out by attending those two mornings. It is a bit of a roller coaster where his energy is concerned. I feel as if I am playing catch up all of the time.

The boy has hated school all his life and as a consequence the misery of getting him in has not made our life a bed of roses either. The thought of having to go through the battles again to get him in just fill me with dread. Life was so easy when I home educated him and yes I can hear you ask why don't I do it again? Can I tell you that I have already noted the picture of the "alternative " provision leader at the school which he attends? She looks really nice. I do not feel so scared if we have to go down that route. I have heard that resources such as "blended learning" exist whereby work and materials are sent from the school. This is my Plan B, locked in a dark chest somewhere in the back of my mind just waiting for me should I need it. I have negotiated my way through harsh educational bureaucracy up until now and I am no longer afraid of being creative in order to ensure that he is educated but most importantly kept well emotionally.

Plan A, well currently the boy will also meet with the Saint and say what he feels he can do and then build from there. He had already muttered to me about increasing his hours before the phone call as he likes it there and feels comfortable. There is a small chance that this could work. I have found that if I keep quiet and not talk too much about school and my own expectations of him, he will initiate meeting his goals himself. There needs to be no talk of rewards, no lectures about the rest of his life, just an acknowledging nod and a smile so that  his tiny tiny spark is not extinguished by over enthusiasm. I just hope like mad that this is enough. My patience is certainly being tested!


Now for a corny moment, hope you guys don't mind, it is something that I have been longing to do for ages on this blog so here goes:

My sister and I during a rather dark 2013 started to send each other songs of the week to help us make sense of the craziness that was at times suffocating us. The songs could motivate us, put our feelings into words or cope with  strong emotions.

Hence my song this week is "Dancing in the Dark" by Bruce Springsteen. My gym instructor has been having the class dance to this for the last three weeks and it is a song very close to my heart. Not so much in a starting a relationship perspective but it just takes a small action to start a change. I do not know where my actions will lead, but I am willing to try rather than wait for it to happen to me. So far this has proved rather exciting and not at all the disaster that I had anticipated!

Enjoy, Clairexxxx

Once you have met one dyspraxic, you have met one dyspraxic

Well hello again! It's been a long time since I last blogged, however I have been involved in a few activities increasing awareness of dyspraxia which have taken up a lot of energy so as ever the subject is never far from my mind.

Where to begin, well last week I presented a quick presentation to my colleagues about Dyspraxia and how we as Health Visitors can identify it earlier and start supporting families affected by it. There was so much to say and I didn't want to deliver it from a professional viewpoint because I felt that would make it something that existed in a world where we looked in from time to time. There are also a lot of changes locally within our NHS trust that aim to improve services for the clients and thus I felt that last week was an ideal time to tell managers how it is for families affected by Dyspraxia and how these changes could improve day to day life for them.

The day before the presentation, our local radio station was presenting a piece about "clumsiness" and the Dyspraxia foundation contacted me to speak about it on the show. Unfortunately ( well actually thankfully) I was not at home when they phoned, so the Vice Chair stepped in. The link for the show is here

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p02jm6p1 The piece starts after Cold Play's song at about 31 minutes.

In the show the Vice Chair, Gill Dixon speaks about the variety of symptoms that Dyspraxia covers and the huge difference as to how people present. She stated that once you have met one dyspraxic, you have met one dyspraxic and this sentence really resonated me with over the last few weeks.

When I tried to organise my presentation, I was amazed at the amount of discussion that exists regarding just the diagnosis. The medical profession tend to refer to it as DCD (Developmental Co ordination Delay) but there are suggestions that this tends to focus too much on the delay in movement skills rather than the emotional and planning aspects too. I also read somewhere that the diagnosis of Dyspraxia is not given by some professionals because a condition that covers just so many symptoms is not possible. I have observed on a Facebook page that I am part of that some paediatricians are now just diagnosing joint hypermobility syndrome instead because they can only give one diagnosis, most bizarre and something I will query because I would hate to confuse people anymore than necessary.

Later on in the week, my son was queried by the Saint and the rest of his teachers because they thought he was dyslexic rather than dyspraxic. His spelling was showing some worrying patterns despite his amazing ability to read. The Saint asked if he could tie his shoe laces and school tie, to which I replied that he could, he could also ride a bike and swim too. As I left, I panicked that maybe he was not dyspraxic after all, which then made me query the whole validity of getting him diagnosed, I had been treating him wrong all these years, never mind the blogging and all the other involvement that I have had with Dyspraxia!

At the weekend, we went shopping, the boy as ever clambered onto the escalator after waiting for the right moment and clung on to the rail for dear life with both hands as we descended. Yup, I thought to myself you are dyspraxic, no doubt about that.

Our local support group also met recently for the first time. Not many were able to make it but those that did, I feel benefitted as did I to be able to share stories and experiences. The children and adults had had a range of symptoms which again aligned with what Gill had stated. There were also sadly tales of the difficulties experienced in getting the vital help and support from health services and education. It still is a very poorly understood condition, unlike dyslexia and this appears to be nationwide. I worry about parents that do not have the confidence to challenge professionals or access services independently and I am in a privellidged position as a Health Visitor that  I can speak up for those that I meet. I have also come to realise that it is not just about getting the diagnosis, its more important that there are strategies to enable the child and family to be able to function and feel that others are understanding around them so they do not feel isolated and worthless. I remember only too well, when we were told about the boy, that  I still did not know how to get him into school and manage his meltdowns. I just wanted that information, nothing else.

As I have stated in previous posts it is the support groups, Facebook groups that often reassure and give you the strength and insight as to how to carry on when you are coping with a meltdown due to a spontaneous change in routine or you just need advice as to where to buy special cutlery from. I really hope that alongside other bloggers and the Dyspraxia Foundation it won't be long before families and people with the condition feel that they are supported and life isn't such a big struggle at times. I am sure that we will get there someday.

A balancing act.

Had one of those conversations with the boy last night that made me again acknowledge his level of dyspraxia. He was lying in bed and I asked if he wanted the door closed to which he replied that he needed some of the light from the landing so that he knew which way round he was lying!

I pointed out to him that he has been lying in the same direction for pretty much a year now, as we changed beds last spring. Surely by now he knew where his head was, this was not the case. We had a little chuckle that he was soooooooooooooo dyspraxic, quite a common phrase in our house and I bade him goodnight.

Isn't it amazing that something so instinctive for me and all of us neurotypical people out there is missing in people with dyspraxia? The boy for years has always required a light at night time so that he knows where he is, something that until recently I could not understand. When he sleeps in other people's houses the difficulties are further increased, he has fallen out of bed a few times because he can not feel where he is in relation to the bed.

The skill that we have in order to know where our body is, is called kinesthetic awareness. This relates to the information from the senses which inform us about our body, where the parts are, the space between our body and objects around . It can also tell us about the direction we are moving in and where our bodies end and the world begins. Whenever the boy had a growth spurt he would become particularly clumsy as he would need to learn that his legs were a bit longer which would then require him to concentrate more on  moving them so that he would not fall over.

Before he was diagnosed with Dyspraxia, the boy was seen by an occupational therapist who diagnosed him with Sensory Integrative  Processing Disorder. There is a wealth of information about this and I could describe it in more detail but I feel if I describe it as how it affects the boy, it will be clearer.The boys body recieves incorrect information from his muscles, hearing, vestibular and tactile senses which means that his development is skewed because he responds to stimuli differently. The visual sense is another route that can be affected too within this disorder. Children can also be high seeking so they want activities that require lots of stimulation ie rough housing, loud noises, fast swinging so that they can get the appropriate amount of feedback to their bodies. Or, like the boy they can be low seeking which means they avoid most playground apparatus, parties, brightly lit places, any type of physical contact because their senses are overloaded. Because of the misinformation,  the boy's body learnt to adapt his responses as he felt would be correct for him. This means that although he responds differently he gets to the same place as everyone else, just in a different way.

So something like holding a pencil for example needs him to ascertain how hard to grip it. He is over sensitive to touch,so  he would hold it too lightly but then that would mean it wouldn't be enough pressure to make a mark on the paper, so he would need to reprocess it all again so he could then function to use it. However his motor skills are affected too, so he would need to work harder to manoeuvre the pencil properly to write. Oh  hang on, he can't balance either to sit on a chair and write at the same time,  so more energy is needed to keep him upright, the pencil and paper still and now he is expected to look up at a board and copy whilst managing everything else. Who would have thought it could take so much work? Add to this  a lower sense of self esteem as they observe their peers manage everyday tasks effortlessly and it is clearly obvious why intervention is needed early.

For a while,  he had occupational therapy to help stimulate his senses properly. He would sit on a large swing in the middle of the room and be pushed to help him gain more control over his balance or his limbs would be brushed to help him desensitise. When he was in year 6, he decided that he didn't want to be different from his peers so the therapy stopped. I now slip the therapy  discretely into his daily activities, such as a weighted blanket on his bed so that he can get the correct feedback from his body when in bed and I also get him to carry heavy shopping bags to stimulate his muscles. We have muddy dog walks where he has to walk on uneven ground,  walk along logs to avoid boggy areas the whole time stimulating his balance (vestibular) senses.

The whole time then, these children with Dyspraxia are concentrating harder because of having to filter out incorrect information about their environment and then they need to plan and organise how to respond appropriately.  In my boy's case this even needs to happen when he's in bed! No wonder he's tired.

Let It Go!

I want to sing this blog to the very popular song from Frozen, however the thing that I need to let go does not resonate around me concealing my feelings and challenging everybody else....that was last year!

 

So, the Saint was off sick last week along with the boy's other teaching assistant. Disaster. He is currently attending two mornings a week, which has been wholly supported by the teachers. It has been heart warming to come and collect him and observe him interacting with them and he has been very positive about the other pupils there as well. When I heard the news that the teachers were off sick, I in all my non dyspraxic, non Aspergers innocence thought well that's not too bad, he can still go in, after all, its only three hours and all of the other teachers are lovely.

 

Wrong, Wrong , WRONG! No Mrs Quirky, your son has Dyspraxia and Aspergers, he can not possibly cope with change of teachers especially during this particularly sensitive period of adjusting to a new routine.

 

 Eh? Surely he can manage a little bit, c'mon, it's not as if he has to cope with a class full of kids is it? There must be some bounce in him somewhere. Apparently not.

 

So he had the week off.

 

There is a part of me that finds it hard to explain why my son is struggling in the  best specialist  unit in the city. Despite him being on anti depressants and having these diagnoses, I sometimes see a cheeky 13 year old lad who is bunking off school. I really feel that he should have a limb wrapped in plaster just to remind me that I need to be patient and understanding. No wonder people with mental health illnesses struggle so much. The boy even moaned that I was not a good advocate for the Dyspraxia Foundation if I couldn't even listen to him properly.

 

The Saint phoned me up this morning to let me know that she was back at work and looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow. I admitted to her that I had been a bit like a bull in a china shop  in trying to encourage some contact with education and she reassured me that the boys behaviour was normal for his condition and that the other pupils had been just the same. She did not want to rush him like he had been previously because that's what had ruined his school attendance before. It dawned on me that if I kept poking and prodding him in all of my eagerness, it would mess up the Saint's fantastic work with him. Maybe I was underestimating the amount of effort that it took for him to attend. Looking back, we have seen him do well at something like sailing and innocently encourage him to do a bit more to find that he drops out completely, there just is not enough energy to meet the challenge. We then witnessed the same behaviour with horse riding, cubs, guitar lessons, hockey and so on. Quite clearly, there is a very limited amount of bounce.

 

The boy has remarked as well that he feels that our affections for him are entirely based on whether he attends school. That is not what I want him to feel, unfortunately he does not seem to notice the never ending supply of hot milk, crumpets, pocket money and loving words that come his way as well. It is very difficult as stated a million times before in this blog to accept the deviation from the normal path of parenting and I imagine myself writing lines as a punishment every time I react in surprise that he does not respond to situations as I would have expected. The L plates are still firmly attached!

 

I also  never anticipated that I would have a child whose inner motivation goes  against the grain of how I would normally parent in regards to praise and encouragement. I think that has been the most bitter pill to swallow. There has been articles in the parenting press recently about the "dangers" of over praising in that the child is anxious about their performance at an activity rather than the taking part. I try not to go overboard in my encouragement and I certainly do not demand that my children achieve top marks in all subjects. The irony is now I am trying not to be an over anxious parent which increases my anxiety even more!

 

So, I am letting go of the rope that binds me to the anxiety of him engaging with the education system. The Saint knows what she is doing and I do not want to make her work harder. I am most fortunate that I can faithfully pass the worries to her. I promise to look interested peers in the eye and say that yes the boy is doing fine on X amount of hours per week and be 100% behind him. Just need to let go.........................................

Even the Health Visitor has Parenting Problems

So to carry on from my last post, the boy went into school. For two mornings. This morning I rocked on up to his room and he told me that he wasn't going in.

 

Despite having a good day yesterday and telling me that he liked the unit because he could get his work done, this morning he wanted to return to home school.

 

Except there is no return to home school. I have given away the books, signed him off his courses and all my hopes are pinned on this unit. I want it to work so very desperately. For those two mornings, I relished the school run and seeing other teenagers in their uniforms,  knowing that  I had one too.

 

 I responded by not shouting at him like I used to, but I took away his computer, ranting about how disappointed I was and it was only 3 hours. As I tended to my chickens I moaned to them, why me? How the heck can I inform new parents about bringing up their kids when my boy won't go to school? Some role model I am!

 

Plus , I had just given a whole 15 months to resurrecting him from the depths of his darkest despair to have it all wiped away within two days. My boy felt valued by his family,  he felt loved and listened to, he was starting to enjoy life again, how could we go back to the tantrums, the shouting and my resentment that I had to devote so much energy to him and leave nothing for my girl. It just wasn't fair. But he is my boy at the end of the day, I have to look after him, I am his mother and I have to do what is right by him, me and my family. The whole point of returning to school was so I could have help in educating him with the specialist support from the unit. So I phoned up the unit and told them.

 

Oh my word, I have now come to think of the unit as an oasis in a desert. Tired, battle worn parents arrive at this place to be gently lifted and soothed as they are reassured that they will be listened to.  I am now going to refer to the boys teaching assistant as The Saint, because this lady knows her stuff and she is just so KIND! She half expected the boy to have a wobbly day, he was working so hard emotionally and physically by attending, no wonder he was tired. She wanted him to have a day of rest today and to try again tomorrow. He could have his computer,  we weren't to expect too much from him and due to the fact that he was no longer by my side in the unit, she said she recognised that  they had taken his security blanket away. The Saint totally gets the boy.  According to her, these children have had a long time of not being listened to. I guess with a late diagnosis of Aspergers that the boy had aged 12, it is a long time.  I certainly felt like I was reading the wrong parenting manual where he was concerned.  No wonder the Super Nanny tactics never worked!

 

But even with all of this support and diagnoses, why do I feel as if I am a bad parent if he does not attend school? It's totally crazy. When I home educated I had none of these insecurities except that I was not working so didn't meet society's expectations of me there. Now I am not meeting the education authorities expectations. I guess its a case of the fact that by recognising that I am a bit of a people pleaser and the ensuing anxiety that develops if I am not performing as I should be is going to  be my biggest demon to beat in all of this. I have not slept all week. Every morning I feel sick with nerves until he is in that school. This is the first week, goodness only knows how long it will be before he settles in.

 

 I am forever telling my families to be kind to themselves during troublesome times, to be empathetic towards the child, try and see it from their point of view. I have had a psychiatrist and the head of special needs telling me that the boy was very unwell yet I admit that sometimes I find it difficult to cope when he refuses to do what is asked of him.

 

 The Saint  practises her approach with kindness and compassion. She recognises that the boy and myself are going through an incredibly intense time as we embark on this change. The boy clearly demonstrates that this works best for him. So I need to take a very blinkered approach to life at the moment and accept that being a "good parent" is not about my child's school attendance. It is about listening and responding to his needs so that he will feel more confident in the future. I also need to listen to myself and pile on the loving kindness so that I have the energy to keep being strong for him. I think we have a rocky road ahead of us, but if I start taking the advice that I so eagerly give to my families maybe our path will be a lot smoother.

 

xxxxxx

New direction

Tonight I write wondering how life will be from tomorrow.  Its a big day in the Quirky house as we leave the safe, comfortable routines of home educating and venture back into a school classroom.

Not just any old classroom mind you, it is a specialist provision for autistic children within a secondary school. The boy is the 9th pupil there, the rest are also boys ranging from years 7-10. The ethos is that they access some lessons with their other school peers whilst being supported by specialist teaching staff and having time also to focus on social and interaction skills. The unit is fairly new, they have thought about the challenges that these children face and ways of overcoming them. For example the pupils arrive later and leave earlier to miss the crowds, the homework is completed within the school day in the unit so that their time at home remains interruption free. Even the colour scheme is muted and there is a sensory room for the pupils to use to de sensitise or just have their lunch in.

When we visited a few days ago, we felt that this had been built with the boy in mind. We were already relieved because he had come with us to see it and proceeded to talk to the head and assistant that showed us the unit. He relaxed and commented on how lovely it was. The specialist assistant was just fabulous with him, she didn't patronise him and gained his trust immediately.

The head then asked if the boy could start full time this week. We had been led to believe that there was meant to be a meeting about integrating him very gradually and I queried this too. We also felt that putting the inevitable off wasn't going to gain us anything and that this time round, it could only work in our favour. The boy balked at this however, to the surprise of the teachers,

And there it is, the age old issue of control rearing its unwanted head yet again. The head asked why the boy felt he couldn't start full time and so I for the first time ever stated that there was a control over his time anxiety that stopped a lot of plans from going ahead. The boy agreed with what I said and the specialist assistant totally agreed that this is normal for autism. So we settled on 3 hours a day and building up from there.

All weekend we have watched the boy for any signs that tomorrow s first session will happen or not. I doubt I will sleep tonight. I have already been accused of nagging him as I sang the sun will come out tomorrow from Annie, innocently after hearing it on the girl's ipod. That was a bit of a bad choice I admit!

We have been down this path so many times before, all hopes raised to have him slamming on the brakes that very moment we reach the party, get to the school gate or wake him up on that fateful day. I  have been very conscientious, ensuring that forms and his bag are packed quietly(previous experience of involving him was not pleasent). I told him casually at lunch time what time we would be leaving and reminded him that he will earn a bit extra pocket money this week as a reward. I have thought back to all of the previous advice I have been given, trying to remain nonchalant but inside just feeling obsessed with worry.

If he makes it, well dreams of returning to being a mother whose child attends school and who can therefore work will be achieved. I will be back in Italy so to speak.

If not, well disappointment and fear of what happens next will just raise up and maintain their usual position in my life. The specialist assistant did say as we left that he could leave earlier if he needed to so I can offer him that life line if I am facing refusal tomorrow. I guess I will have to take what he gives and work from there, plus this time round we have help from professionals so hopefully my Italian dream will be achieved in the distant future.

It is so hard not being in control of my life. I always worry about being judged that I can't get him to do the simple act of going to school. Home education has been great, but I am not that way inclined and I need to know that he can separate from me to build his own life. Oh if I could only gaze into 24 hours from now and see the other side!

I will keep you posted. Xxxx

Coping with Loss

Hello everybody and welcome to 2015!

 

Bit of a sad post today, unfortunately events such as the death of a loved one never happen at an appropriate time and we at the quirky house suffered two significant losses over the festive period. I am aware that I have not written a post for quite some time and to be honest as a result of the sad events, I do feel a little less motivated. At this time of year, quite naturally, there are several sites discussing new years resolutions and looking forward, so for those whose Christmas did not bring the joy that is expected, I embrace you and invite you to sit with me awhile.  Thus because this is also a parenting blog, I thought I would concentrate today on helping children cope with the death of a loved one, as until recently, I had no idea as to what to do until the time arrived.

 

So, just before Christmas, my grandfather passed away. It was the same day to a year that his wife, my darling grandmother also died so we found ourselves in similar circumstances for a second Christmas running. Both children were very close to my grandparents. They had spent many a happy time visiting the flat in which they lived. The girl and my grandfather would be in hysterics as they both could not hear very well and would just spend the time shouting "What?" at each other. The boy worshipped him  as a celebrated Naval hero and had planned to take him to the submarine museum in the hope of my Grandfather sharing some exciting stories with him.

 

When the news came that my Grandfather had passed away, I initially had my own feelings of shock and sadness well up before I could even begin to communicate it to anyone else. My children are very perceptive of my moods, so I knew that it would not be long until they would sense that all was not right with the world. I decided to tell each child individually because I knew that the response would be different and I wanted to ensure that I was there for them.

 

Death is not something that is ordinarily discussed in day to day life especially with children as we want to protect them from sadness and fear of our own mortality. The girl has found this particularly hard as she has seen her rabbit die and learnt that this eventually happens to us all. We have always been honest about it with them, using terms such as they stopped breathing, the body doesn't work anymore rather than they fell asleep. The parenting website Netmums has some excellent resources about helping children cope and they suggest that by observing that  flowers wilting and dying in a vase, a young child can begin to understand the cycle of life. The National Autistic Society also advocates this for children with Autism http://www.autism.org.uk/living-with-autism/at-home/death-bereavement-and-autism-spectrum-disorders.aspx. The boy especially preferred the natural science behind death in that the body stops working whilst the girl is more visual and understands it if she sees a dead flower or pet.

 

The circumstances that surround the loved one passing away can affect the grieving process. If they have a terminal illness, the child can be perhaps be prepared, again by letting them ask the questions that they feel are most important and answering them honestly. It is also Ok to cry in front of them, you too are sad and explaining why you are sad will ensure that they do not feel that they are to blame.

 

As expected, both children reacted very differently. The boy was very calm which I had anticipated because his emotions always manifest in his behaviour later. This is common in children who are on the autistic spectrum. I kept to his routines and informed him of what would be happening so that he knew what to expect. This is especially important because we are a very expressive household and I didn't want him surprised by mentions of funerals, other people's grief, or me bursting into tears. There is also the change in routine as you support other members of the family to consider. When my grandmother passed away a year ago, my grandfather required a lot of help, so supporting him and my father shifted our familial patterns for a few months afterwards. When my other grandmother died 10 years ago, I was not aware of the boy's difficulties, so threw myself into helping my mother. My friend who looked after him whilst we attended the funeral said that she had never seen him so unsettled. Again it is extremely difficult when you just want to curl up and cry to expend more energy on caring for a child. I guess the strength to go on comes from somewhere, it is never easy. I wholeheartedly recommend that more compassion towards oneself and having that curl up time is absolutely necessary during times like these. He did not want to attend the funeral because he said he wanted to remember Grandpa sitting in his chair asleep with his headphones on rather than seeing a coffin. Bearing in mind that I have a large family and it would mean seeing other people, which he finds difficult at the best of times, I didn't push this.

 

The girl sobbed her little heart out. We lay on my bed and I held her as she cried. She went into school the following day, I thought that she was alright so didn't pre warn the teacher, but she started to sob again and was given time with the emotional support assistants that they have there. We aren't a religious household but the girl has found that it has helped her to think that Grandpa is looking down on us and when she went to a Christmas service with her school, she said a quick hello whilst waiting in the church.

 

I felt that the girl was old enough to attend the funeral with us. She was initially reluctant due to her worries about seeing people crying and the ghoulish scenarios surrounding death that children like to talk about. I told her everything that would happen, the procession into the church, where she would sit, what would be said and how we would leave the coffin there. I dispelled her myths about coffins and reassured her that she would be surrounded by people that love her and would comfort her and that it was Ok to cry. She had a lot of questions about the crematorium which is a difficult concept to explain especially when you are grieving, but my husband was calm and honest with her and she was fine. It helped enormously that another similar age cousin was there as well, so they sat with each other and gave each other support.

 

Then the cat died.

 

He was run over by a car. Thankfully a kind lady took him to the emergency vet and because he was micro chipped we were informed about what had happened to him. So again, we told the children individually what had happened. He was a much loved pet, especially by my son, and even though he was a cat, it  was a significant loss to the family. Thus we are talking a lot about what we are feeling at the moment. My son missed him today sitting on his school work and we are finding it strange that we can leave food out on the work surfaces.

 

Again, Netmums has advice on how to help with the loss of a pet. Euthanasia is discussed too, and the opinion seems to be that it is best to leave the children out of the room until the pet has been put to sleep and then they can see it at peace. They also write that children react in different ways and it is best not to force the subject onto them if they are not ready. The girl prefers the dog, and she stated that she did not feel too sad.  She has been really mature towards me though and protects me from seeing cat food in the shops, which is sweet.

 

The boy is keen that we have a memorial for him, but like myself, he didn't want to bury his body or have his ashes brought home. He did not want that to be his last visual memory of him. Our memorial will be a large catmint bush in his favourite sunny spot with a little plaque. I expect that the girl will write a poem for him and we will say our goodbyes that way.

 

There is a wealth of resources out there to help through these very difficult times. Netmums is especially brilliant because it also discusses bereavements such as that of a parent or a sibling which are particularly difficult. There are also charities such as Winston's Wish which have a range of books that can be shared with the child and have trained counsellors to contact.

 

So it is a little subdued in our house at the moment. I am sure that as time passes, we will adjust to the new routines, but for the moment we are being extra kind to each other. Love as ever will get us through.

 

I hope that you all have a peaceful 2015.

 

Clairexx

 

 

Useful Links:

 

http://www.netmums.com/parenting-support/miscarriage-and-loss/loss-of-a-child/helping-children-cope-with-bereavement

 

http://www.winstonswish.org.uk

 

http://www.autism.org.uk/living-with-autism/at-home/death-bereavement-and-autism-spectrum-disorders.aspx

 

http://www.helpguide.org/articles/grief-loss/coping-with-pet-loss.htm