Haircuts and fevers
Zoë got her hair cut yesterday to try to counteract the damage she did with the scissors. Her hair is now short. Very short. As in, Mia Farrow around the time she married Frank Sinatra, that hairstyle known as a "pixie cut".
I'll post pictures eventually...
In the meantime, today she's got a fever for reasons unknown. She's very quiet and quite warm and just wants to sit quietly and watch television, so that's what she's been doing.
I, however, have a commitment to go and do "parent duty" at her pre-school, and I know that I'm the only one on duty today, so it'd be hard to get out of it. Thankfully, Zoë's grandfather is able to stay with her while I go and do my duty, which is kinda weird. I mean, I'm leaving my own child (albeit in capable, caring hands) to go spend three hours with a bunch of other people's kids...
[EDIT] When I came back, Zoë was in the same chair in which I left her. She was pretty quiet the whole time, apparently. She's eating some crackers now and her fever seems to have gone down somewhat, although she's still a little warm.
Hairy issues
Zoë got hold of some scissors and, like many kids her age, decided to give herself a haircut. She really did a job on herself, too. The back is pretty much untouched (it's shoulder-length) but the front... well, it's pretty short. I mean, extremely, EXTREMELY short. She also hacked off some of the hair around her ears, so she now seems to have a sort of half-arsed mullet. It's pretty awful, to say the least.
We've decided that we'll take her to the hairdresser and have them do whatever they can. If that means cutting the back short so it's not so disproportionate, well, that's what they'll have to do. Ugh.
I had actualy intended to write about Zoë's trip to the city on the train, and her visit to the Royal Botanical Gardens with her grandparents (we all went on the train, and the girls and grandparents went to the Gardens while Andrew and I went to the National Gallery), but every time I look at her now I feel a little nauseated, and that take precedence, I guess.
Not a good night
So I was lying in bed reading last night, and everyone but me was asleep. I heard Zoë start to cry, and I left her be for a little while because she sometimes has nightmares or other sleep disturbances, and she settles herself and doesn't even seem to remember it in the morning.
She didn't settle down, and started to cry louder and harder, so I figured something was really wrong and I got up. No glasses, her room was dark, and I went to her bed and reached over to comfort her and... ick. Put my hand in cold vomit. Zoë was sobbing, "It's wet! It's wet!" over and over, and she was right, it was wet, and stinky in the way only vomit can be. It was also cold, which makes me wonder how long it was before she really woke up and realized what was wrong (she really wasn't crying very long before I went to check on her).
She was cold and wet and smelly, and I got Andrew to help out with the bedding while I dealt with Zoë. I had to get the poor kid in the tub and give her a bath and wash her hair in the middle of the night. And then, because she was already chilled, I blowed her hair completely dry (I know I hate sleeping with wet hair, especially on a cold night). By the time we were done, Andrew had gotten fresh bedding for her and put the dirty sheets and pillowcase in the wash (and even started it!).
All the while Zoë was muttering about going to bed. I guess she was really tired, poor kid, and that wasn't a pleasant way to wake up, certainly.
Today she seems perfectly fine. No fever, appetite is okay. She's a little cranky, but there's a lot of that going around (I think nobody but Miranda slept well).
I dunno what it was. She's occasionally vomited before. I think she's just one of those people who sometimes throws up for no apparent reason, or for a very mild reason that might not bother anyone else. Whatever it was, it was an unhappy experience, but seems to be "just one of those things".
A Zoë Tale
Zoë is wearing her hair in a ponytail today. When Nanna saw it she said, "Oh, you've got a ponytail. Are you a horse?"
"Not a pony tail. It's a Zoë tail!" replied the little girl.
Speech Assessment
Zoë saw her speech therapist today and they managed to get the "receptive" part of a formal speech assessment done. The therapist is convinced that Zoë understands and can express a good deal more than we know, that there's a lot going on inside her little head, and that we just can't reach it (nor can she let it out) because of her stubborn and typically autistic determination to do what she wants and only what she wants or is interested in.
Thankfully, this behavior is becoming much more modified as she matures and has more life experiences and gets more therapy of various kinds, and we do expect (as does her speech therapist) that a year or two of the highly specialized program at the school she's going to next year will be extremely helpful in breaking through that streak of stubbornness.
So, basically, it's just what we already thought. She's a clever kid, and she's got a lot more going on inside than people probably think...
All around improvement
Zoë is doing very well, lately. I'm quite impressed with her. She's been listening and obeying simple commands (such as "Don't chase" or "Stop!"), she's following simple directions, she's communicating in various ways. I'm really pleased, to say the least.
Today, Miranda was being a pain and she was crying endlessly about something stupid (I wouldn't give her something she wanted but which I didn't think she should have), and Miranda stood and just cried and cried and cried, quite annoyingly. After trying to reason with her, I decided to just ignore her until she stopped.
Zoë had other ideas. She told Miranda to "stop crying" a couple of times and then went to the cupboard and got a cup and poured some fresh milk into the cup, put the milk away, and then brought the cup in, saying, "Here, Awanda, dwink, stop crying." I told Zoë to put the cup on the table, and she did, and Miranda did, indeed, go and have the drink and it did make her feel better!
Naturally, I praised Zoë for her thoughtfulness and for being so helpful.
Later, we were in the kitchen and Zoë got herself a drink of water and drank about half of it from the cup, then put the cup on the kitchen counter and announced "Drink of water all done," and tried to make the sign for "finished", although she didn't do it right. I asked her what that meant and said, "What's that sign?" and she threw her hands up and said, "It's a sign!" and laughed.
And so did I.
Paperwork, ugh
I called Zoë's speech therapist today. She wasn't in, but I left a message with an actual human, so I'm sure Zoë's therapist will call back to get the details of what I need.
And what I need is basically a statement from her that in her professional opinion, Zoë's speech is such-and-such delayed, blah blah whatever technical stuff they need to write, and that she will be attempting to get a formal speech assessment but given Zoë's temperament and disability, that may take some time (or whatever). Basically, just a statement that Zoë is, indeed, significantly speech delayed, enough to be considered disabled.
We also need to get Zoë's hearing tested yet again, this time at a specialist unit, because she isn't always entirely cooperative with such tests (it's very clear that she can hear, but it's a required formality that we have a recent hearing test).
And then, we're to gather up all the documentation we have (IQ test results, behavioral assessment, various diagnoses, etc.) and take them to Zoë's pediatrician, who will review them all and write up a cover page and her official diagnosis, put that on the bundle of paperwork, and we can present that to the school. Zoë's pediatrician specializes in autism spectrum disorder and so she knows the system in and and out, knows precisely what they need/want to have on file, etc. She's a great doctor, recommended to us by the parent of another child with very similar issues to Zoë's (I'm so glad I took that recommendation!).
So now we spend the next few weeks doing the Paperwork Shuffle, hooray. It's a real bore, but it has to be done. The school we've chosen (and we've already let them know we're interested in enrolling Zoë, so that's taken care of) is perfect for her and I think a few years there with their programs and high adult to child ratio and small groups will do her a world of good. She's made great progress just from preschool three days a week and a couple hours of early intervention playgroup (plus the speech therapy), so five days a week of full-on specialized schooling will have a tremendous positive influence on her.
When/if she's ready to move on to a less specialized setting, we're thinking about a couple of the private schools nearby, one of which we know does have a special education program. Both schools we're considering are Christian schools, but since we're Christians, that's hardly an issue, hehe. But that's something we'll have to consider a bit further on (although you do need to book in early for most private schools), when we're done with the piles of paperwork we're currently facing...
Schools and such
Well, today we went to two different possible schools for Zoë. The school I'd already been leaning toward has now pretty much become the one we know we'll choose. We need to get a couple more tests/documentation done (she needs yet another formal hearing assessment and a statement from her pediatrician as well as a formal speech assessment, although a statment will do until we can get that done), but otherwise, we should be good to go.
The school has everything she needs and I think it would be an excellent "fit" or Zoë.
I also was quite taken by the principal, who was a very funny, witty, clever, pleasant woman. I really liked her take on things (and the fact that she got Andrew's weird sense of humor was a pleasant suprise).
So, this is good. And a relief.
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