This morning was the last day of a full week at home with sick kids. Everyone is feeling just well enough to be bored but not snot-free and fatigue-free enough to go to town.
Yesterday we killed time making Valentines (the kids swirled glue and glitter and stickers all over construction paper hearts--Pinterest-worthy we are not but they were happy nonetheless).
Today I decided to do a mini spa day with the girls. After breakfast I got them dressed and took a picture that was a re-posing of a similar picture I took about a year ago. I showed them last year's picture and then did their hair the same--great fun getting ready for it.
We were back in their room getting ready to paint nails when suddenly I realized that their bedroom window was open.
I can't even describe the horror that rolled through my body when I saw the window open about 3 inches from the bottom. It was like watching your kid just barely miss getting hit by a car. Their bedroom is on the second floor. There is no screen or barrier whatsoever. On the ground outside, beneath their window, are large landscaping boulders. I do not know that a child could survive that fall.
Which is why I've put double and triple safety features in place since before they moved in. First, the window is old, stiff, and hard to open. I truly did not believe a child could physically open it as I can barely get it open. Problem--I've always opened it from the top. I think that now it's possibly a little easier to open when lifting from the bottom than I realized.
Second, we've had two bars in their window that would've prevented the bottom pane from sliding up. Or, at least, I thought we had them. They were gone today. Had the girls removed them long ago? It's winter, nobody is opening windows, I do not know. I looked all over and could not find either bar.
Third, I'd taped over the locking latch with heavy-duty duct tape that I thought was too sticky for the girls to remove. They have almost no finger nails and struggle with fine motor tasks. They struggle with peeling stickers off a page. What I didn't know is that in the cold, and it looks like some moisture repeatedly condensing on the tape, the tape had released its stickiness. The lock was exposed right there under the tape that appeared to be in place but was actually just lying there loosely and not stuck down.
Three layers of safety mechanisms that had all failed sometime this winter without my knowledge because the curtain is usually drawn to keep the draft out. (We live in an old farmhouse.)
Now that a full day has passed Jane finally told me the full story at bedtime. Early this morning she had one hand up on the window ledge and one hand on the bars at the end of her bunkbed and was swinging her legs back and forth. She is obsessively in need of swinging due to her Sensory Seeking disorder. She missed both dance class and OT this week due to being sick. She's crawling out of her skin at this point.
So, she's swinging back and forth when her hand slips and she peels the tape up. This surprises her but now that the tape is up she gets curious. She fiddles with the latch and unlocks it. Next, she opens the window. Why? Because she's 4 yrs old and she's been told not to but here's the forbidden fruit and she can't resist.
She didn't open the window to be bad or do anything intentionally dangerous. She just pulled up and look, the window opened! Interesting!
Shortly after that Kate was awake and Theo came to lift her out of her crib and the girls went down for breakfast. Theo did not notice that the window was open. Jane forgot all about it.
A few hours later I discover it and here's where everything goes to shit for awhile. First, when I asked the girls who opened the window Kate immediately said that she did it. I was skeptical--was she strong enough?--but she fessed up so fast and earnestly, that I believed her. Except---about two months ago she experimented with lying and I spent some time creating scenarios where she was rewarded for telling the truth and, unfortunately, this may have taught her to confess to crimes she didn't really commit. It's about 50/50 now if she's telling the truth, except it's skewed as she may now be confessing to crimes she didn't commit rather than lying about committing crimes she did do. (Nothing, nothing, nothing is easy, ever.)
I asked Jane if she did it and she denied it. I had Jane leave the room and I asked Kate to show me how to unlock the window. She was clueless and is so much shorter than Jane that she couldn't even really reach the lock. I was certain she hadn't unlocked it but, maybe they worked in tandem and Jane unlocked it and then Kate opened it? I'm not sure, so I asked Kate to show me if she could open the window and she could (scaring the bejeezus out of me--my worst fear right there, demonstrated by a 2 yr old. Note: we've lived here since Seth was one yrs old and NONE OF MY SONS have EVER opened a window. EVER.)
So, Kate got in big trouble for opening the window. Then, she was sent out of the room and I had Jane come in. Before Jane could even lie I calmly and curiously asked her if she knew how the lock worked. She walked right over and unlocked it. Well, that confirmed that she unlocked it. And, I would've believed that Kate opened it except when I asked Jane when she unlocked it she made the mistake of mentioning that Kate was still in her crib when Jane unlocked it.
Now I knew that Jane had totally let Kate take the fall for at least some of the crime when she committed all of it.
I sat there and thought for a long time. I needed Jane to understand how serious this was so we needed a big, all-day punishment. First, I put her in Kate's crib simply because I just needed her safely contained while I planned. I was surprised by what a big reaction that got. It horrified and humiliated her. So, I decreed that Jane was now the "little girl who couldn't be trusted" and so she had to sleep in the crib now because it wasn't safe for her to alone in her room and able to move around.
Then, when I had Jane get out of the crib I made her sit in a designated spot away from Kate and James. All day Jane alternated between eating a meal or snack on that spot, walking laps outside around the house because she NEEDS exercise, or being in the crib. Twice today Kate and James got a food treat which Jane missed out on but was told about. At least ten times today Jane and I reviewed the whole thing to settle deep in her brain that she had done something dangerous and when she does naughty, dangerous things then she cannot be trusted so she cannot play with the others because I must keep them safe from her.
By the end of the day she was ready to have the most honest conversation we've ever had. At bedtime I rocked her and we talked. She genuinely expressed total understanding and remorse, without prompting by me. She conveyed that she understood what she'd done was dangerous, that it was mean to Kate to pretend Kate did it, and that she never, ever wanted to be naughty like that again.
I was really surprised by the vehemence and depth with which she spoke. There was something just different about this today. Other times she's said things adamantly but I've felt she was just parroting what she thought I wanted to hear. Today she spoke with her own words.
I rocked her and hugged her and assured her that I loved her and was so glad she could apologize for doing something dangerous and for being mean to Kate. I expressed that today was a sad day for me, too, because I'd wanted to do special things with her but I couldn't because she'd been so naughty. This unleashed a fresh set of tears. But, it was good for her to hear that I loved her and was also sad after she did something dangerous.
I started today as shocked and horrified as I've ever been. Only twice before have the girls scared me this bad. Once when Kate, just turned 2 yrs old, opened the gate to the driveway and then got locked out. Once when Jane opened the goat's gate and let them into the backyard where the kids were. Both things were really dangerous and utterly shocked me because they were things none of my three sons have ever done before.
I ended today reassured, in a weird way, that Jane is starting to have true emotions and normal responses. She "got" it in a more genuine way than I've ever seen before. Truly demonstrating remorse, and empathy for Kate after Jane got her in trouble, was very reassuring.
I am also aware that it's doubtful I'll ever really trust her. She's too impulsive; is too impaired when it comes to reasoning and long-term planning/consequences. She's probably always going to have the trust-factor of about an 18 month old--sticking her finger in outlets precisely because someone made a big deal about not doing that and now she's curious.
The reality is that she's a brain damaged child. About a year ago when we were first realizing her likely FAS diagnosis I said to Theo--how is she going to feel when Kate, her little sister, surpasses her in thinking/reasoning and therefore is granted greater privileges? I envisioned this happening when they were teenagers and maybe Kate, 18 months younger, got her driver's license before Jane. I had no idea the day would come when they were 4 and almost 3.
Tonight Jane, a very tall 4.5 yr old, is sleeping in the baby crib while Kate, still 2, is sleeping in the bunk bed. I think this is, definitely, the watershed moment when I acknowledge the depth of Jane's impairment and the fact that we likely will need to supervise her like an infant as long as she lives in our home. I am sad, but, somehow it's good to have this settled in my mind. Like getting a medical diagnosis you didn't want but at least now the waiting is over and you know.
As I write this I feel all my frustration with her in her stupidest moments rolling away. The special ed teacher in me, my identity at my heart, feels compassion for her. I know that I will be more patient with her in the future now. This beautiful, talkative, emotionally-advanced girl who is learning numbers and letters way faster than her siblings is actually cognitively impaired in the very narrow and specific area of reasoning and predicting outcomes.
She will never be one of us in the sense that we love long, difficult strategy board games. She will never have fascinating conversations about politics or beliefs. Now that I fully acknowledge this and let it all go, I truly do feel more compassionate towards her. This is the grief and acceptance process that parents of disabled children talk about.
P.S. All the safety devices are back up on the window tonight.
Yesterday we killed time making Valentines (the kids swirled glue and glitter and stickers all over construction paper hearts--Pinterest-worthy we are not but they were happy nonetheless).
Today I decided to do a mini spa day with the girls. After breakfast I got them dressed and took a picture that was a re-posing of a similar picture I took about a year ago. I showed them last year's picture and then did their hair the same--great fun getting ready for it.
We were back in their room getting ready to paint nails when suddenly I realized that their bedroom window was open.
I can't even describe the horror that rolled through my body when I saw the window open about 3 inches from the bottom. It was like watching your kid just barely miss getting hit by a car. Their bedroom is on the second floor. There is no screen or barrier whatsoever. On the ground outside, beneath their window, are large landscaping boulders. I do not know that a child could survive that fall.
Which is why I've put double and triple safety features in place since before they moved in. First, the window is old, stiff, and hard to open. I truly did not believe a child could physically open it as I can barely get it open. Problem--I've always opened it from the top. I think that now it's possibly a little easier to open when lifting from the bottom than I realized.
Second, we've had two bars in their window that would've prevented the bottom pane from sliding up. Or, at least, I thought we had them. They were gone today. Had the girls removed them long ago? It's winter, nobody is opening windows, I do not know. I looked all over and could not find either bar.
Third, I'd taped over the locking latch with heavy-duty duct tape that I thought was too sticky for the girls to remove. They have almost no finger nails and struggle with fine motor tasks. They struggle with peeling stickers off a page. What I didn't know is that in the cold, and it looks like some moisture repeatedly condensing on the tape, the tape had released its stickiness. The lock was exposed right there under the tape that appeared to be in place but was actually just lying there loosely and not stuck down.
Three layers of safety mechanisms that had all failed sometime this winter without my knowledge because the curtain is usually drawn to keep the draft out. (We live in an old farmhouse.)
Now that a full day has passed Jane finally told me the full story at bedtime. Early this morning she had one hand up on the window ledge and one hand on the bars at the end of her bunkbed and was swinging her legs back and forth. She is obsessively in need of swinging due to her Sensory Seeking disorder. She missed both dance class and OT this week due to being sick. She's crawling out of her skin at this point.
So, she's swinging back and forth when her hand slips and she peels the tape up. This surprises her but now that the tape is up she gets curious. She fiddles with the latch and unlocks it. Next, she opens the window. Why? Because she's 4 yrs old and she's been told not to but here's the forbidden fruit and she can't resist.
She didn't open the window to be bad or do anything intentionally dangerous. She just pulled up and look, the window opened! Interesting!
Shortly after that Kate was awake and Theo came to lift her out of her crib and the girls went down for breakfast. Theo did not notice that the window was open. Jane forgot all about it.
A few hours later I discover it and here's where everything goes to shit for awhile. First, when I asked the girls who opened the window Kate immediately said that she did it. I was skeptical--was she strong enough?--but she fessed up so fast and earnestly, that I believed her. Except---about two months ago she experimented with lying and I spent some time creating scenarios where she was rewarded for telling the truth and, unfortunately, this may have taught her to confess to crimes she didn't really commit. It's about 50/50 now if she's telling the truth, except it's skewed as she may now be confessing to crimes she didn't commit rather than lying about committing crimes she did do. (Nothing, nothing, nothing is easy, ever.)
I asked Jane if she did it and she denied it. I had Jane leave the room and I asked Kate to show me how to unlock the window. She was clueless and is so much shorter than Jane that she couldn't even really reach the lock. I was certain she hadn't unlocked it but, maybe they worked in tandem and Jane unlocked it and then Kate opened it? I'm not sure, so I asked Kate to show me if she could open the window and she could (scaring the bejeezus out of me--my worst fear right there, demonstrated by a 2 yr old. Note: we've lived here since Seth was one yrs old and NONE OF MY SONS have EVER opened a window. EVER.)
So, Kate got in big trouble for opening the window. Then, she was sent out of the room and I had Jane come in. Before Jane could even lie I calmly and curiously asked her if she knew how the lock worked. She walked right over and unlocked it. Well, that confirmed that she unlocked it. And, I would've believed that Kate opened it except when I asked Jane when she unlocked it she made the mistake of mentioning that Kate was still in her crib when Jane unlocked it.
Now I knew that Jane had totally let Kate take the fall for at least some of the crime when she committed all of it.
I sat there and thought for a long time. I needed Jane to understand how serious this was so we needed a big, all-day punishment. First, I put her in Kate's crib simply because I just needed her safely contained while I planned. I was surprised by what a big reaction that got. It horrified and humiliated her. So, I decreed that Jane was now the "little girl who couldn't be trusted" and so she had to sleep in the crib now because it wasn't safe for her to alone in her room and able to move around.
Then, when I had Jane get out of the crib I made her sit in a designated spot away from Kate and James. All day Jane alternated between eating a meal or snack on that spot, walking laps outside around the house because she NEEDS exercise, or being in the crib. Twice today Kate and James got a food treat which Jane missed out on but was told about. At least ten times today Jane and I reviewed the whole thing to settle deep in her brain that she had done something dangerous and when she does naughty, dangerous things then she cannot be trusted so she cannot play with the others because I must keep them safe from her.
By the end of the day she was ready to have the most honest conversation we've ever had. At bedtime I rocked her and we talked. She genuinely expressed total understanding and remorse, without prompting by me. She conveyed that she understood what she'd done was dangerous, that it was mean to Kate to pretend Kate did it, and that she never, ever wanted to be naughty like that again.
I was really surprised by the vehemence and depth with which she spoke. There was something just different about this today. Other times she's said things adamantly but I've felt she was just parroting what she thought I wanted to hear. Today she spoke with her own words.
I rocked her and hugged her and assured her that I loved her and was so glad she could apologize for doing something dangerous and for being mean to Kate. I expressed that today was a sad day for me, too, because I'd wanted to do special things with her but I couldn't because she'd been so naughty. This unleashed a fresh set of tears. But, it was good for her to hear that I loved her and was also sad after she did something dangerous.
I started today as shocked and horrified as I've ever been. Only twice before have the girls scared me this bad. Once when Kate, just turned 2 yrs old, opened the gate to the driveway and then got locked out. Once when Jane opened the goat's gate and let them into the backyard where the kids were. Both things were really dangerous and utterly shocked me because they were things none of my three sons have ever done before.
I ended today reassured, in a weird way, that Jane is starting to have true emotions and normal responses. She "got" it in a more genuine way than I've ever seen before. Truly demonstrating remorse, and empathy for Kate after Jane got her in trouble, was very reassuring.
I am also aware that it's doubtful I'll ever really trust her. She's too impulsive; is too impaired when it comes to reasoning and long-term planning/consequences. She's probably always going to have the trust-factor of about an 18 month old--sticking her finger in outlets precisely because someone made a big deal about not doing that and now she's curious.
The reality is that she's a brain damaged child. About a year ago when we were first realizing her likely FAS diagnosis I said to Theo--how is she going to feel when Kate, her little sister, surpasses her in thinking/reasoning and therefore is granted greater privileges? I envisioned this happening when they were teenagers and maybe Kate, 18 months younger, got her driver's license before Jane. I had no idea the day would come when they were 4 and almost 3.
Tonight Jane, a very tall 4.5 yr old, is sleeping in the baby crib while Kate, still 2, is sleeping in the bunk bed. I think this is, definitely, the watershed moment when I acknowledge the depth of Jane's impairment and the fact that we likely will need to supervise her like an infant as long as she lives in our home. I am sad, but, somehow it's good to have this settled in my mind. Like getting a medical diagnosis you didn't want but at least now the waiting is over and you know.
As I write this I feel all my frustration with her in her stupidest moments rolling away. The special ed teacher in me, my identity at my heart, feels compassion for her. I know that I will be more patient with her in the future now. This beautiful, talkative, emotionally-advanced girl who is learning numbers and letters way faster than her siblings is actually cognitively impaired in the very narrow and specific area of reasoning and predicting outcomes.
She will never be one of us in the sense that we love long, difficult strategy board games. She will never have fascinating conversations about politics or beliefs. Now that I fully acknowledge this and let it all go, I truly do feel more compassionate towards her. This is the grief and acceptance process that parents of disabled children talk about.
P.S. All the safety devices are back up on the window tonight.
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