Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 76 Comments

One of those days ….

Yesterday morning was one of those mornings. The toilet blocked. Then I burnt our son’s toast (having just used up the last slice of bread in the house). Then when I moved to the only other viable breakfast option, cornflakes, the only bottle of milk had gone off ( you know the milk that is supposed to be fresh for 7 days!!!?). So it was the balanced apple, grapes and packet of crisps option. Couldn’t find the school tie. Then we missed the school bus. So quick drive to school – completely off plan, so son upset. Go shopping but half way round and I realise the wallet is back at home. So back home.

I was in need of the strongest coffee ever before returning to the shopping. The caffeine lifted my spirits so its back to the shop. But where are my car keys. Looked everywhere. Don’t you just hate it when you lose something you have just had a few moments ago. One hour later – still no sign. Then I realised the obvious – PETS. Dog innocent. Cats happily asleep on the chair. The chair where I sat and had my caffeine fix. Now I understand. And guess what – cats lying on keys. Very funny really.

So it’s back to the shops, get to the checkout and realise (again) that my wallet is still at the house. As Pink Floyd would say “one of those days”.

I suspect the UKs Prime Minister is feeling like she is having one of those days today. At least they won’t need to provide so many teas for her government after this morning. The rate ministers are resigning she might be phoning me soon.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 68 Comments

Very Slow Cooked chicken

Let’s not pull any punches – I’m a monumentally bad cook. There is no recipe that I can’t mess up. No appliance I can’t arc weld food to. No Kitchen is safe in my presence. I am like the Arch Poltergeist of the food world. As a result so many people have recommended getting a slow cooker, they are fool proof I am told. Well let’s see.

It was the usual school morning start. Drop a heavy dumbbell on my foot. Stand barefoot on a Lego figure. Wipe up another cat accident. Try to find the missing school PE sock. Trip over the dog and drop son’s breakfast over floor. Why has the school bag shrunk – currently as full as a parachute backpack. Try to find ingredients for Food Technology (son so helpfully informs me 2 minutes before we have to leave). All while convincing son that everything is cool and going strictly to plan.

A slow cooker is purchased, reassuringly I opted for the one which said ‘the easiest way to cook great food’. First recipe – chicken stew- it’s must be a winner. All I have to do is dump the ingredients in (which is fantastic given the morning chaos unfolding around me) and let it cook on the low setting for 6 hours. Leave it to cook while he’s at school and I am out – perfect. Even our son was unusually looking forward to some edible food for the first time in years (excluding pizza deliveries).

More of a rarity, as I pick up our son from school he talks about maybe even dipping some bread in the mouth watering stew. So we both excitedly enter the house waiting to enveloped by the intoxicating aroma of high end cuisine.

Nothing no smell. Must be the really good lid sealing in those mouth watering flavours. I wish….

“Dad it’s stone cold, you did switch it on”. Followed by “What a muppet”.

So that nights fine cuisine was tinned soup and bread. That was actually option 3. Option 2 was microwave risotto – unfortunately somebody forgot to rip a hole in the top of the packet and at 45 seconds it exploded.

So tonight’s fine cuisine will hopefully be cooked and hot sausage casserole. Yes it has been switched on.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 47 Comments

Fungi

This little beauty has appeared in a shady corner of the garden. Possibly something to do with it being an area favoured by the pup for his early morning constitutional. I was going to pull it up but …

“Dad don’t kill it. It’s got as much right to be here as us”

Already getting the all so familiar sinking feeling of an argument slipping through my grasp, I tried one feeble counter thrust. An incoherent ramble about weeds.

“What’s a weed?”

That vail of defeat rapidly falling towards me … one last throw of the dice … it’s the wrong type of plant in the wrong place (all those years in the greenhouse with my gardening dad and that’s the best I can dig up!!!!)

“Well strictly speaking that’s not a plant , it’s in the separate fungi classification. Also who defines what the wrong type of plant is. Didn’t you tell me that being different is one of life’s blessings”

Total defeat. The weed, sorry no – plant, sorry no – fungi STAYS. Now I have to build him his own little fence to keep the pup away. Deep joy.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 48 Comments

Thespian Advice

First up apologies for yesterday’s school rant. Probably suffering from Toffee Appleitis. It was heart felt but probably did come across as a bit of a winging parent. I suspect it might not be my last moan but I will try to keep a lid on it for the post.

The Toffee Apple update was quite positive. I did manage to find one rather sad looking specimen which apparently was quite tasty. While he was at school I moved away from the high science of Toffee to the more accessible chocolate approach. Chocolate is so much easier than Toffee – it falls within my very limited cooking range.

Chocolate Apple – success. Then the success went to my head – chocolate dipping anything I could find. Grapes, strawberries, banana, pineapple and melon. At one stage we had chocolate spectacles – but that was just an unintentional fumble. With the exception of the glasses – all chocolate covered items happily consumed.

After the chocolate eating fest our son brought up school and in particular drama. Apparently the class had a drama test which consisted of reading a script. No reading help was provided. When I asked how he coped his response was

“I couldn’t read the words but I didn’t panic, I just remembered the advice you gave me about drama”

This worried me on two counts. One I can’t remember any such advice and secondly the only thing I’m worse at than cooking is the performing arts. My only two ventures into the performing arts during my life have hardly been inspiring.

1) At school my class was entered into a singing competition. My signing was so bad that the teacher told me to stand at the back and just mime. I remember how he put it “for gods sake don’t sing or were buggered”.

2) A bit further down my educational journey I “performed” in the year end play. That year it was Julius Caesar. I was given the role of a centurion with one job. Stand on a podium (chair) and shout “hail Caesar”. Unfortunately on the big night I got a tad excited. I managed to let out a bellowing “Haiiiiiiiiiii” as I feel backwards off the chair, pulling most of the back curtain down.

So with trepidation I asked my son exactly what advice I had given him.

“You told me that if I had to do any acting and I didn’t know what to do then you should pretend to be a famous actor. Pretend to be someone like Christopher Lee playing Dracula”. ### he once watched a documentary about Christopher Lee’s career when he was appearing in Lord of the Rings and loved the Dracula bit ####

“So I just pretended to be Dracula stalking round the stage not saying a word. I later found out that it was some romantic stuff I was supposed to read”.

I couldn’t get the image of this vampire like figure stalking round the stage when they were expecting something more akin to Laurence Olivier or Colin Firth. Seconds later we were both in tears of laughter.

So in summary I can’t rule out future blog moans but I can categorically rule out any form of thespian advice.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 52 Comments

It is still runny

Over the last couple of days our son has been even more disillusioned with school. School is still not being proactive which any support – he has to ask for help rather than have it incorporated into the teaching program. Some of the kids poke fun at him when he has to out his hand up for help. To make things worse now when he does ask for help the Teaching Assistant now ends the help by saying “now I’ve helped you what do you say”. Every single time our son has to thank the Teaching Assistant. Now I try to stress the importance of being polite but in this case….. From the sound of it the other kids are not asked to say thank you when they put their hand up for help – just our son when he needs some text reading out. Why single out the dyslexic child. Surely the Teaching Assistant can see that the kids poke even more fun when he says thank you.

Maybe it just my tired state anyway…

Last night to try and cheer him up I asked what might help make him happier. The answer – Toffee Apples.

So we set off to the local shop to find they had sold out. Only one option – make them myself – surely it can’t be that difficult. Silly old sausage.

First attempt (following recipe to the letter) would not set.

Next attempt – increase the temperature – even more runny, will not set.

Another attempt – decrease the temperature – annoyingly still as runny, will not set.

Yet another attempt – try a different recipe – same runny result.

Starting to lose patience attempt – increase amount of syrup – no improvement

Really annoyed attempt – increase amount of sugar – no change

The I’ve been doing this for hours now and son has gone to bed attempt – to tired to remember what I tried – this time I arc welded the ingredients to the pan.

*************

So my son set off to school now determined not to ask for any help at all. But at least he has the prospect of toffee apples. I promised him that I was heading to the city and would go round every single shop until I found them.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 73 Comments

Almost perfect

Yesterday was one of those almost perfect days. Everything went to plan. An early walk through autumnal parkland. Stunning colours. Early enough that we had the place to ourselves. No need for anxious glances at strangers. A wonderful wide ranging conversation with no distractions.

If you had one of the escaped Jurassic World dinosaurs, how would you disguise it when you took it for a walk?

Why is the Easter Bunny a rabbit and not a mole or lamb or donkey?

Why do footballers dive?

Can you hear explosions in space?

Who would win a battle between a 30ft T-Rex and a 30ft John Cena?

Is there anything in the world that Bear Grylls wouldn’t eat? Could it be Brussel Sprouts?

How would we cope if numbers had not been invented?

Then a day at home. No phone calls. No knocks at the door. No visitors in the neighbours gardens, A day filled with trampolines, playing ball with the dog, Top Trumps, Lego building, water pistol fights and an old ScoobyDoo movie.

A completely relaxed and contented son. No anxiety. No meltdowns. No worries about fitting in. Just happy and laughing.

I said it was almost perfect. Just two improvements.

I just wish his mum was here to join in. And…

It’s a privilege to spend such quality time with my son. I can’t think of anything else I would rather do. But I just wish one day that I can look out of the window and see our son having a similarly wonderful time …. playing regularly with someone his age. Not having to play with his boring old dad. With someone he can call his best friend. That would be the perfect day.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 74 Comments

Halloween

We have some odd pets. This time it’s the big boy cat. For some strange reason as soon as we light the candle, the boy cat has to sit next to the pumpkin. If we move the pumpkin, the cat follows. Last year he did the same. Bizarre.

Halloween can be an odd time for our son. Before the world changed he loved the whole Halloween experience. Making the scariest pumpkin possible. But after his mum died it took on a different meaning. In his eyes it became a transition date. The cross over between the time he associates with death and funerals to the period of happiness and life. Over the last two years the period running up to Halloween has brought 3 major deaths – probably 3 out of the 4 closest family members. The period after Halloween brings fireworks, Christmas and anniversary of welcoming the mad dog into the family.

Halloween has now evolved into a mix of reflection for what has gone and for a celebration of happier times. Hence the pumpkin has now moved from the scariest possible to a sort of party boy. This is no bad thing.

Maybe the cat is waiting for the party to start. Waiting for ‘Trumper’ to start the festivities. I didn’t ask my son why he called this years pumpkin, Mr Trumper. I assume it’s because of the trumpet like thing in his mouth – can’t possibly think of anything else that the pumpkin could be named after….

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 70 Comments

Probably

One of the most frustrating thing about autism is that nothing seems to be certain. You can say the same about Dyslexia, Dyspraxia and ADHD. The stock reply to questions seems to be “probably”. It feels a bit like that old beer advert “Carlsberg, probably the best lager in the world ”

  • Is Autism hereditary – probably
  • Are environmental impacts associated with Autism – probably
  • Are Autism and Dyspraxia linked – probably
  • Will the behavioural aspects of Aspergers become more pronounced as he gets older – probably
  • Is his Dyslexia linked to his Aspergers – probably
  • Is ADHD linked to Aspergers – probably
  • Will a coach or therapist help with Autism – probably
  • Is a main stream education the best option – probably
  • Could going to a special school help – probably
  • Would home education be more suited – probably
  • Will the loss of his mum have a long term impact on his Aspergers – probably
  • Will he get any specialist bereavement counselling – probably
  • Would educational psychologist be able to provide a tailored educational programme for our son – probably
  • Will an educational psychologist assess our son – probably
  • Could medication help – probably
  • Could medication make it worse – probably
  • Is Aspergers and Sleep Disorders linked – probably
  • Could the use of a reading Scanning pen help with his Dyslexia – probably
  • Could Occupational Therapy help with Dyslexia – probably
  • Could Speech Therapy help with Dyslexia – probably
  • Could the use of a reading scanning pen hinder any potential reading improvements – probably
  • Will the use of coloured lenses help with Dyslexia – probably
  • Have we now ruled out that coloured lenses will not help – probably
  • Will my son get any additional help during his secondary school life – probably
  • Are we trying every available route to try and unlock his full potential- probably

Probably, probably, probably….

Apart from the definite diagnosis everything else seems to have been on a probably basis. That’s frustrating for a parent as all you want to do is try and find the best course of action for your child. It’s more frustrating for the child as he or she tries to come to terms with life and the future.

But one thing is not probably, it’s not maybe, it’s definitely. When your child has had a bad day at school. When the parent is crying inside with the frustration of not being able to take your child’s sadness and anxiety away. When you need a lift.

The pets never let you down. They are our Ghostbusters our Captain America. Guaranteed to save the day and lift the spirits. They don’t need a proton pack or a shield. Just a few cushions will do the job. What a hero. Son and Dad happy again – probably for the rest of the day.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 66 Comments

Night out

A few weeks ago I was contacted about an old school reunion. Surely this was an excuse for a night out. My first night out since the world changed over two years ago. The old me would have been really excited about seeing some old friends and having a fun night out. How times change.

This potential night out sent shivers down my spine and I agonised over it.

  • Where am I going to find a child sitter. A child sitter my son is comfortable with. A child sitter with experience in autism. I couldn’t come up with one viable option. After our son was born we hardly ever went out as a couple. If we did go out for a night, it was as a family. But as the autism became more prevalent these family nights out stopped. But at least one of us could stay with our son if the other partner wanted to go out – it worked well.
  • Because the venue was over an hours drive away, even a relatively short stay at reunion would have meant an extended period of childminding.
  • How would I react having my first evening/night away from our son in over two years.
  • Would I be able to cope at the reunion. It feels such a long time since I’ve done anything socially like this.

In the end I sent my apologies. I’m sure that the correct approach would have been to go. Yes you can list a number of valid reasons why I should have gone. But was I disappointed, not in the slightest. For the night of the reunion we ordered a pizza delivery and watched the two Paddington Bear movies. It was another lovely night. This is my world until our son is ready to fly the nest. Yes it does have its downsides but it is the biggest privilege I could possibly have. I count my blessings for this opportunity.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 39 Comments

Model Parent

Sometimes I feel like the worst parent in the world (I’m sure most parents feel the same at some stage). I read some of the tremendously inspiring parenting blogs and then compare it to my chaotic approach. This morning I was reading a blog about Dyspraxia when I realised that I had forgot to put this down on my son’s school health form. So I dug out a copy of the form and confirmed the omission but also noted that I had spelt Aspergers wrong as well. I phoned the school to ask for a new form and they informed me that I had used the wrong form anyway. So they would send out a new form. While they were on the phone they reminded me that I had still not returned another two important forms.

So that went well.

Sometimes life sends you a curve ball that makes parenting an even more difficult job. Seemingly well beyond my modest ability levels.

I’ve been agonising over when and how to have THAT ‘Santa’ conversation with my son. Because of his Aspergers it is something which has to be managed really carefully. Trying to find the right words, trying to find coping strategies for emotional reaction. I decided that the best time was in the upcoming school holiday. I had decided on giving our son a special Christmas project to work on. My idea is that he can plan our Christmas programme. What we do, what we eat, where we go, the decorations. It will be his Christmas.

Seemed like a plan. Unusually for me, a plan that had been meticulously thought out. So now the curve ball. Off the bus comes and obviously distraught son. I hadn’t planned on the R.E. Teacher announcing some choice Christmas facts during her lesson. I had not planned on the said Teacher obviously handling this really delicate subject for some kids with the tact of a rampaging wolverine.

So we quickly headed off to one of his favourite places. With his favourite pet dog. Went to see his favourite wooden sculpture. We drunk some of his favourite drink. We then talked through some stuff and agreed that it was his Christmas his year. His mood has lifted somewhat. His Aspergers planning is starting to swing into action. I think he’s going to be ok.

I am probably not the only parent that is rubbish at planning and organising stuff. But maybe, just maybe like most parents, we find a way of making parenting work.