We started doing AWANA a few years ago and that started tonight. Two years ago, Jeremy attended AWANA at Living Grace Community Church in Cary. He had struggles and this was before we had a diagnosis for him. We also didn't know any members of the church, although a friend of mine enrolled her kids (we attend the same church) LGCC's AWANA program.
Last year, my dad found a small church in Lake in the Hills that did AWANA. We still didn't have a diagnosis for Jeremy and didn't know a soul, but Bekah and Jeremy both took pretty well to the program. We were hoping that they would do it again this year, but the pastor of that church just had open heart surgery and didn't feel up to having the program there this year.
So back to LGCC we went. This time, though, I know a few more people that attend the church and some more friends from my own church enrolled their kids as well. I figured that he would see all of his friends, get excited and settle in fine.
This was going to be the last stop of the day. He was supposed to have an appointment with his therapist, an hour break, an appointment with his occupational therapist and then head over to AWANA. Of course, it's our family so it couldn't happen so smoothly.
I had to take him out of school to get him to see Dr. Dean. I love her because she has not rushed to a diagnosis with Jeremy. She is firm with him and has worked hard with him to reduce some of the behavioral problems we see with him. A lot of his acting out is tied into his sensory issues. For example, if he is in a loud environment, he will start being loud to match the sound. This is not a behavioral issue, per se, but it seems non sequitor. In fact, he makes the loud noise because that's something he can control and that helps him when he is in a situation he feels like he can't control.
After retrieving him from school we headed over to see Dr. Dean. I unloaded all three kids from the van, we walked into the building, rode the elevator, got into the office...only to find out that our appointment is in fact scheduled for next week. Lovely. Go back downstairs, load everyone back in the van (after first scowling over the phone to my husband--my appointment keeper--for not having told me the appointment was for next week).
Now we have an hour and forty-five minutes to kill before the occupational therapist. Hmm, I think...maybe I'll go home and make the soup Brian and I are supposed to have for dinner. Then we'll head back out to the therapy appointment. Nope, I opt to run a couple of errands--to the bank and to pick up some cardstock for the resale this weekend. (Luckily I didn't have to go to a store to get the cardstock, it was waiting on someone's front porch for me.)
We run those errands and still have forty-five minutes left. We drive to the parking lot of the Lutheran school behind Jewel in Crystal Lake. I turn off the van and hand out dinner (cold cut sandwiches, pretzels and cut-up veggies) to everyone. We observe a turkey buzzard, we talk about silly things, Bekah tries to meet her quota for daily questions. I think she's set the bar high for herself--approximately 750,000--but she seems to be right on target.
When it is almost 5, we drive to the appointment. Typically I take Bekah and Doug elsewhere while Jeremy is in therapy. Today I'm trying to conserve on gas. In addition, it's still 8 bajillion degrees outside and I am wearing jeans. (I don't want to wear jeans but I am between sizes in clothing and so nothing without legs fits me very well.) I sweat like a man in all situations but even more so when it's 8 bajillion degrees outside and I have a 2-year-old (see yesterday's post for more information).
While at the appointment, Doug destroys one magazine, almost steals another lady's coffee, rearranges the welcome mat and Bekah almost manages to cut her finger off in the stand fan. Meanwhile, I have called Brian and asked him to meet me at LGCC. I still had to pay for dues and books and knew it would be impossible to do so while also monitoring Doug's behavior. Brian calls to tell me where he is. He asks if he should go to the church or somewhere else. I say, hmm...seems like you should come to the therapy place and meet Jeremy's OT. He pulls up just as Paula is about to go get her next appointment. I introduce them (as Jeremy and Bekah almost smash Doug's head while wrestling at the front door of the place) and then we head out.
(I should add that after picking Bekah up at preschool, it was readily apparent that she needed a nap. She doesn't nap as a general rule but I think going to preschool every day has been kicking her butt. She was weepy, angry and yelling at me on the way home from preschool. I thought she was okay but I think it was just foreshadowing of the storm that was brewing.)
We leave Brian's car at the therapy place. We drive as a family to LGCC. I take Jeremy and Bekah in to church because I still need to pay for them. I drop Bekah off. No problem (as expected). I take Jeremy to his side (Sparks).
There are moments, as a mom, when you just know that what comes after is not going to go well. I had a plan for tonight. Drop the kids off at AWANA, go home and cook soup for me and Brian. While soup is cooking, go for a run by myself. Wait at home for my parents to bring Jeremy and Bekah home. What followed was not at all what I planned.
Disorganization ruled the evening. They didn't have Jeremy's emergency contact form even though I had pre-registered him. They also didn't have his book or his vest. The name tags from last year were thrown, in a heap, onto the registration table. I was standing there, patiently, watching them set out vests on the second of two banquet-type tables. On my left, a woman walks up and says, "what, you're going to use my table?" I have no idea who this woman is and if she was being sarcastic or not but I immediately felt uncomfortable.
When we arrived, there were very few people around. As we waited by the registration table, there was a surge in the size of the crowd. The noise level started to go up. In response, Jeremy got loud. I placed my hand on his head (a technique we use to calm him down). He seemed okay. I filled out the paperwork, left my check and went to take him into the room where they start out.
There was only one other person in the room with their daughter. I told Jeremy that his friends would be there soon. I offered him a high five and he hesitated, motioning like he wanted a kiss. I gave him a kiss and then he seemed to want the high-five after all. I knelt down and gave him a big hug and a high-five. I told him that d'da and bubba would be picking him up, spun on my heel and left. I was eager to get out because there was a fever pitch of people, noise and chaos happening in the hallway. It was too much for me to handle and I have no sensory diagnosis.
I got into the van with Brian and we drove back to the therapy place. We arrived and I decided to take Brian's car. I was going to my parent's house. At LGCC, they have a card that you turn in to retrieve your child from Cubbies. If my parents were going to get Bekah, they needed that card. My plan was, go to my parent's house, drop off the card, go home, start the soup, go running while soup is cooking, wait for my mom and dad to bring the kids back.
As we're pulling up, though, my phone rings. It's one of my girlfriends. Apparently, Jeremy bolted from the class not long after I left. One of my friends found him upstairs, ready to leave. She did what she could to coax him back into the classroom but he was pretty adamant he wasn't going to go in there.
So what happened instead is I ditch all other plans and head back to the church. Jeremy is upstairs with Cara and is still pretty sure he doesn't want to participate. We head downstairs under the guise of retrieving his bag. Once in the room, I immediately understand why he's overwhelmed. There are (by the leaders' count) 40 kindergarten to second graders in a very small room. The kids all look like lost sheep and the leaders seem harried and overwhelmed. It's one of those rooms with awful acoustics, so that everything reverberates and makes even the most calm person bonkers.
They split the group (21 kids in one group, 19 in the other) and they send one group to the gym for games, one group to do a craft. We head upstairs for games. The one bright ray of sunshine is that there is a little girl from Jeremy's class in his AWANA group. They hold hands together going up the steps and when we get in the multipurpose room, they stand next to each other. I didn't realize her family attended that church (I don't know any parents from his class) and I feel like it was such a God thing that she was there tonight.
There are three male volunteers to do games with the kids and it's immediately apparent that they are out of their depth. Meanwhile, for reasons I don't understand, Jeremy found a small bag of birdseed in his AWANA bag and wants to hold it. While standing and listening to instructions for the games, the bag opens and birdseed falls out. This sends him into an emotional tailspin. Also, the leaders are telling the kids they should wear sneakers so they can run. We have one pair of sneakers for Jeremy right now and they are at school. Heinforms me that I need to go to kindergarten immediately and retrieve his sneakers. I tell him, calmly, that I can't but that we will get them for next week. That seems to satisfy him and so I sit down next to Cara and giggle about how many hands go up when the leaders ask if there are any questions. They meant were there any questions about the information they had just shared. They asked a group of young children if they had any questions and indeed, they do. They always do. Any semblance of order they had was lost in trying to answer all the inane questions. (Point kids.)
Now what happens is he is mostly fine but another little girl is emotional and wants her mom. As I don't attend LGCC, I have no idea who she is or who her mom is. Owing to Jeremy's momentary stability, I take the little girl on a hunt for her mom. I run into some friends on the way back up and sit down to talk with them. I keep checking on Jeremy and then realize I can't see him in the room. Additionally, they have started playing absolutely the worst game ever.
It's a game I played when I was younger (and probably in AWANA). You take a piece of yarn, tie one end to your ankle and the other end to a balloon. The object is to protect your balloon while popping everyone else's. To know Jeremy is to know that popping balloons causes him a great deal of anxiety. If it even appears that someone may be coming close to popping a balloon, he freaks out and either flings himself at said person (to get them to stop) or tries to wrest the balloon away from said person. Neither approach is ideal.
I talked to one of the leaders a week ago and let her know about Jeremy's issues. They assured me that they understood, that they could accommodate him, that they were capable. It took me a few minutes to find him tonight (which, why hadn't one of the leaders tried to find me or sit with him to keep an eye on him) and then he refused to go back to the side of the room where they were playing the game. Then, to make matters worse, his friend from kindergarten wanted to pop a balloon. The game was over and there was an errant balloon that she was trying, unsuccessfully, to pop.
Jeremy was heartsick about all of it. He had his hands over his ears and he was yelling her name, trying to get her not to pop it. She couldn't hear him yelling--that's how loud it was in the room--or she didn't understand that he was yelling at her. She tried a few different times, with the help of an adolescent helper, to pop it. Another friend of Jeremy's tried to help her. This all made it worse for Jeremy who was fighting to go get her or the balloon. I held him as tight as I could and just kept telling him that she didn't understand, she didn't understand. She had no idea how she was torturing him and he had no idea how to ask her to stop. It was painful to watch. To make matters worse, a few of the kids came over and asked me what was wrong with Jeremy. It's an innocent question and there was no malice but it's painful to hear. It means that the kids have figured out that Jeremy is different and I absolutely loathe that. He is such an outgoing, friendly, compassionate guy and I hate for him to have a handicap when it comes to making friends.
Next was craft time and the funniest thing about that was the sign on the wall indicating the room's capacity was 19. Just the amount of children was 21 and then there were 5-6 adults buzzing around. I felt like at any moment the fire marshall was going to bust in and make some of us leave. It was also not a great room for acoustics. I stayed with Jeremy because I was waiting on my parents. I couldn't take the kids home because I had no carseats in Brian's car. I physically couldn't take them. I figured it would be no problem to have d'da and bubba take them home.
Well, I figured wrong. Getting out of AWANA was just as problematic as getting in. There was a throng of people trying to retrieve their Sparks and there was seemingly no organization for doing so. My dad was already having a stressful day and this pushed him over the edge. Meanwhile, now Bekah has decided she can't possibly go home apart from me. I try to explain to her that I can't take her home. I walk her to my parent's car and she (without exaggeration) is trying to grab onto anything so that she can hold on and resist my attempt to wedge her into their car. Literally, wedge her. She is using all of her available 4-year-old muscles to resist any attempt to put her into her seat.
Finally, I walk away from that (leaving my dad to fight her into place) and back into the fray of pick-up. I need to find out about the kid's books. I re-enter the building and discover that they will be there next week. Now I'm ready to go home. I sit in the car talking on the phone to Brian for a good 20 minutes, then realize neither of us have eaten. A quick stop at Wendy's it is, even though we never eat there and we have a fridge full of food. It's one of the pitfalls of cooking from scratch--if you don't have a back-up plan and it's after 8, you either end up eating around 9 or you eat crap. Concurrently, I never got that run that I was hoping for. Double whammy of crappy food and low activity level. I hate it, especially on the heels of a weight gain. It seems to suck all of the wind out of my sails.
All in all, I have incredible misgivings about continuing AWANA at LGCC (at least for Jeremy). Even though they told me they could handle him, it seems like they are severely understaffed or overbooked. I am going to give it a few more weeks and see if there are changes. If not, we'll probably just take the year off. Less than ideal but I don't know what else to do.
And now for the sign off. I am going to go collapse into bed and start over tomorrow, maybe even with a run.
No comments:
Post a Comment