DS

Audrey turns nine!

~ Vickywoo ~ Leave a comment

When the birthday comes around, my musings about the past, present and future come too. So here we are. Nine years of Audrey.

My summer baby

I guess I would normally be talking about how far we’ve come since the surprise diagnosis postnatally. Sharing positives, expressing how much we love and appreciate her, but it’s also worth talking about the not-so-super-fantastic things about having a child with needs like Audrey’s.

You see, in the early Instagram and blogging years, I read a few things other T21 mums said about pushing the whole “cute” angle with Down syndrome which can be damaging, and belittle the experiences of those facing the reality of a more grown up child with DS. “It’s no so cute if they’re 18 and still in nappies” etc.

Not everyone’s reality is a “capable” child. But at the time I just felt that, well, my child is cute and loveable and easy going – I can only write and represent my own reality, right?

Whilst that remains true (I can only write about my experiences), I see more and more as Audrey grows, with the challenges we face/will be facing, why those families might feel the “cute” loveable baby that’s “just like other babies” angle is a bit icky.

Because Audrey is fabulous. She’s awesome. A lot of fun, a kind and sweet little girl. But she’s also not. She’s whiny, difficult, stubborn, she can be mean, unkind, naughty and hard work. Well, all kids are complex and can be kind but also mean… Audrey’s ability to be both wonderful and a pain in the butt is clearly something she has in common with neurotypical kids.

But the real “difference” – the real area where I feel like the mother of a child who is disabled/neurodivergent/has additional needs, are those things that separate her without question from her typical peers.

Running. Audrey likes to run down the street ahead of us. She’s pretty good at stopping at the kerb (but that’s not 100% guaranteed), but it’s still very stressful. In crowded areas, she could get lost or knocked over, roads with driveways or entries to parking areas etc are unsafe and it’s especially uncomfortable if she is able to turn a corner miles ahead of me. She loves to be free and she enjoys doing this. If Rex did the same, but I asked him not to, he would stop. Audrey on the other hand, often takes great pleasure in defying me. I can walk down the street with her younger brother and he will hold my hand, listen to me and walk sensibly. A walk down the street with Audrey can be like that (rarely) but more often than not, it’s stressful,

Complaining. This girl can whine. She can use this skill to get what she wants, but if we do stand firm, she’ll just keep doing it even if it is ruining everyone’s experience. She’ll whine if we are watching a TV show she doesn’t want to watch. She’ll whine if the walk we are taking is too long. She’ll whine if she wants to go home from somewhere we’ve just arrived at. She’s rarely shy at saying what she’s thinking, especially if that thought is “I don’t want to do this”.

Stopping. Preferable to the running? I’m unsure. The running fills me with fear, but the stopping brings out a very angry grown up mum side to me. I have very little patience with her when she just sits and refuses to move. It drives me mad. As she gets bigger I wonder how I will move her. Obviously I hope she’ll grow out of it soon.

A recent stop and sit.

Developmental milestones. This is a big one. Where other parents of nine year olds are eyeing up how close they are to an independent kid… that feels a very long way off for us, because it is. We are not even at the stage where we can trust her out of sight in the park (which is fine for her six year old brother), so getting to a stage where she’s maybe walking to a friend’s house around the corner or making us tea – that’s not even close. I know I am going to struggle when parents of typical kids start to discuss how much easier things are, and what it’s like to leave behind those stressful years of doing everything for your child… when I shall remain in it. Still reading bedtime stories, still wiping her bum…

Physical barriers. Audrey finds climbing, uneven ground, stairs and all sorts of fairly basic physical things tricky. She’s always going to have to work that but harder at things like this and it’s a shame because she loves sport, but it’s not always accessible as she can’t keep up with others and is a bit fragile (a good example would be that she loves kicking a ball around, but the reality is, playing actual football she will either never get a look in (too slow) or will get hit/kicked/knocked and be upset and want to stop). She can’t take part in the same clubs an activities that typical kids can without additional support.

Repetition. This kid can repeat and repeat. A good example would be: on Mondays, she has an after school club which means she needs two snacks (one for morning, one for after school). If someone so much as mentions “Monday” Audrey will say what club she does and that she needs two snacks. She’ll mention this on Sunday night, in prep for Monday. She’ll mention it on Monday morning, so I don’t forget. She’ll probably mention it when I collect her. And she’ll no doubt say at some point in the week when we discuss what we are doing Thursday, and she’ll feel the need to say that on Mondays she has two snacks. She is that repetitive. Yes some of it winds me up. But what I always think is – if I can only just about handle it, when I love her to bits, do other people just find her crazily annoying?!?

Societal barriers. There is no escaping that Audrey’s options are not the same as her brother’s. If she wants to do an after school club, I don’t just sign her up and shove her in. And the obstacles will increase as she gets older (for example, when Rex is a teenager, there will be no need for “childcare”, but can the same be said of Audrey in her teenage years?). And once she reaches adulthood, we have a new level to navigate (education, work, living arrangements, independence, life skills). I am not expecting an easy ride.

So there you have it, a little “happy birthday Audrey” with a big helping of real life. Audrey is a complex being! Not just the cute and hilarious kid that makes me proud. She is all of the things. She will need more help than her typical peers, but we are up for it. And nine years on from holding that scrawny little thing that looked like an orang-utan, wondering what I did to deserve a baby with Down’s syndrome, at least now, despite everything, I feel like it had to be something good.

Dancing Queen

~ Vickywoo ~ Leave a comment

I’ve just had an extremely stressful (but fun) weekend and I definitely need to pour it out here on my neglected blog. I can usually write whatever it is I want to get off my chest/share with the world via an Instagram post, but this weekend was a biggie, so here I am.

Let’s start with a brief note on Audrey’s dance history. At an early age (like many babies/toddlers), Audrey showed that she enjoyed music and moving to music. We went to all the usual music groups, as well as some a bit more different (me singing in a grown up choir whilst Audrey rolled around) and we listened to music at home, watched music channels, learned sing and sign with Singing Hands and had a boogie on the regular.

Once Audrey was nearly five I started looking for dance classes for her. She trialed ballet with Rex (he was two and just ran around), but I knew what would really make her come alive and it wasn’t ballet. So I found a street dance class for her and she loved it. Sadly, when we joined we knew the teacher running it was no longer continuing, so it was only for a few months, but it gave Audrey (and me) a lot of joy. She danced to George Ezra and Katy Perry, she learned little routines but it was mostly just good fun moving.

When that ended I got on a waiting list for a dance class (which never came to anything) and scoped around looking for another fit. Obviously Covid paused a lot of options, but at the end of 2020, I found a modern dance class for her that some of her classmates were also going to be attending. She liked it and she stuck with it (all the other girls from her class decided not to continue) and over a year since classes could take place, she has just performed in her first show.

The build up to this dance show has been a rocky road. Audrey started leaving the class (I wait in the building in a side room for her), coming to me for a cuddle, sometimes in tears. She was also rehearsing songs and dances at school and she said she didn’t want to do the dance show because: “too many shows!!”. I think of her as quite a happy girl who doesn’t stress or overthink things, but for this, she was feeling stressed. Every week she was saying she didn’t want to do the show, which was such a shame after all this time learning the routine.

We were concerned and confused about what to do as there is a fine line between “you’ve committed to this dance and we believe you can do it” and “it’s ok, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to”. After seeing Audrey perform at her school show, I felt confident that she could handle her modern dance show too. She was just finding the repetition of the routine hard and also maybe a bit scared of the unknown – she had never been to the theatre booked for the event.

One day I had a revelation – Audrey was talking a lot about her best friend who had performed with the school at the Dome in Brighton. Her friend had showed her the routine and performed it at school, Audrey had loved supporting her. So I suggested that maybe Audrey would feel better if her friend came to watch? And it worked! Audrey was very excited by the idea. She said she would do the show.

And so we ploughed on, through some wobbles, but constantly reminding her that her friend would be there to cheer her on and we would all go for burger and chips after!

Show day came yesterday (the day after her school Summer Fair but that’s another outpouring of thoughts I’ll get to!). At 9am I took Audrey, Rex and his friend (the boys were performing tap in the show) to the theatre for the dress rehearsal morning. Chaperones were provided, but given Audrey’s nerves, we decided it made sense for me to be backstage with her. Again, I was initially torn between giving her the space and independence versus being there to give her support. My instinct was that she would need me, but sometimes I wonder how she would get on without always being micro managed.

Show day backstage

The thing is, I stress about Audrey with good cause – she needs reminding to drink water and reminding to go to the toilet. She’s on medicine for constipation and we are trying to get her dry at night, so these things to genuinely affect her mood and her routine. At the rehearsal, we initially sat in the room with the boys and their chaperone by mistake, but when we realised we were with the 44 other girls down the corridor, I had no worries about leaving six year old typical Rex to his own devices.

Audrey and I sat in the corridor as the main dressing room was simply too hectic. I had downloaded some shows on my tablet and in hindsight, I should have brought headphones as that many children together generates a lot of noise. She was doing ok though, she was in the Netflix zone (and not willing to let any other children see, she huddled close to that tablet!).

As part of the dress rehearsal we all went to wait in the wings as another dance finished. The girls in Audrey’s troupe were excited and nervous – talking about how dark it was and a bit scary! It was not helping Audrey. She was cuddling me, telling me she couldn’t do it. One girl from her school in the year below was particularly kind and helpful, she gave her a little pep talk (no doubt repeated from her parents) about how the audience was only going to be friends and family – no strangers, so not scary!

They did two run throughs of the dance and I felt a sense of relief that Audrey made it on stage and remembered the routine. Phew. After that, it was a bit more waiting around whilst Rex rehearsed tap and then we all went home for a three hour lunch break.

At 3.30pm we were back at the theatre. Along with the circa 50 little ones performing, there were now several groups of older girls milling about and the volume of chat, scream and excitement was now extreme. I was finding it all a bit overwhelming, so I knew it was hard for Audrey. She was dressed in her costume and cuddling me, saying she just wanted to get on stage, but we had over an hour to wait. After a while, we moved into the room with the boys which was still a bit noisy and chaotic, but a sanctuary in comparison to the main dressing rooms. At this point, Audrey started to get nervous again, she was tearful and told me she couldn’t do it. I hated leaving her, but I needed to take my seat in the theatre and having spoken to the dance teacher, I felt like giving her space was the right thing to do. I asked Rex if he could remind his sister she could do it (I’ve no idea if he needed to do this) and I left Audrey as she weakly gave me a little thumbs up and a forced smile.

I found Ted and Audrey’s friend ready and seated and explained that I had left her still feeling nervous. We were all worried she might not get on stage. Which was actually why it was an extra special moment, when the girls in her modern group came running on stage and Audrey was just a few seconds behind, enough to give us the fear, oh no, she’s not going to do it and then… boom! she appeared! Hurrah! Of course I was in tears through the whole dance. She looked like she was having the best time and she remembered her routine. She even shielded her eyes at one point to try and see us in the audience. It was spectacular… And this was followed by her brother Rex in his tap routine – which was quite simply adorable, so I continued to cry. He was completely unphased by the whole thing and just got on with it. I could not be more proud of them both.

Early that day there was a moment backstage where I was cuddling Audrey and she was saying it was all “too loud” and I was kicking myself for not remembering her ear defenders, that I felt envious of all the parents of the typical children. They’ve dropped them off, they’ve gone home. Done. There were reception children happily hanging about in the chaos. But my child is struggling and I’m stressed. It felt unfair. I felt like I was carrying a very heavy weight and I wasn’t sure I was up for the job. But seeing Audrey up there, performing alongside her typical peers was magical. It made it all worth it. The tears, the headache, the effort, it was worth it. Because she was given the opportunity, she wasn’t told “sorry we can’t cater for a child with Down’s syndrome”, she was included and we had a bumpy road to get there but she did it!

Walking to McDonald’s after the show

All I need now is a lie down in a darkened room for a week and I’ll be right back on track.

Our Movicol journey…

~ Vickywoo ~ Leave a comment

Ok, so this is quite a niche blog post! But I thought it might be useful to anyone with a constipated child, considering Movicol, using Movicol, about to use Movicol… I’m certainly not an expert or medical professional, but this is our poo story… or rather Audrey’s (age 7).

I think Audrey started to experience constipation around age 4/5 ish. She had been through a short fussy eating stage, but on the whole, her eating habits had become pretty good – she now happily eats a variety of vegetables and lots of fruit, but our problem is: fluids.

Audrey will sip a little water in the morning with her toast, a little bit more later and then throughout the day (with encouragement) drink a bit more. There are days when I could see she had pretty much only had a small cup’s worth of water the entire day! Using a straw seems to help her drink more and she does enjoy a juice box, but literally the only liquid I have ever seen her “down in one” is a 60ml portion of chocolate flavour Movicol!!

But back to the start of our journey. Audrey’s constipation presented itself very traditionally as several days without pooing. She would be in a very bad mood and 99.9% of her poos were in her night time nappy. To be completely honest, not worrying about poos in the daytime (being out and about and finding a toilet etc) was convenient. She progressed to pants age 5 and it was nice that we didn’t get those kind of accidents. We just gave her a spoonful of Califig most days and hoped for the best, she generally had a bowel movement every other day and we would find a poo in her nappy at night (that we would discover before we went to bed and change as she slept) or a poo greeting us in her nappy in the morning.

Once we entered lockdown, we ran out of Califig and our local pharmacy didn’t have it. I made a special trip to the big Tesco to get it, but we realised that if we were going to tackle things properly and get her on a daytime poo on the toilet schedule, now was the time to do it. So at her annual review, I discussed it with the GP (over Zoom) and we received the prescription for Movicol. I had been reluctant to “medicate” before, simply because she is on no other medication and Califig is “natural”, but I regret that now. I am the sort of person who suffers a headache for a couple of hours to avoid the use of paracetamol, but I am learning to just take the meds when needed!

With Movicol everyone warned us the dosage had to be right. It’s all anyone said when the mere mention of Movicol came up. We were advised to start on one sachet a day and scale up or down, depending on her reaction. My expectation was: it will have no affect (and the dose should be increased) or it she’ll have diarrhea (and the dose will be decreased). It was much more complicated than that.

Within a couple of days of taking it (just one sachet a day), we had seen two poos on the toilet and were doing happy dancing and thinking all was solved. How simple! [Side note: thank god I use local charity Amaze for advice on Audrey’s disability living allowance claim, as I was filling in the form that week and made it sound like the Movicol had magically cured her constipation and that was that, but I was advised by their guru it was too soon to make any such declaration and I downgraded the info to “she suffers from constipation and has recently started Movicol for this”]. How right they were… within days Audrey was wriggling and grumpy and doing “micro poos” (basically: sharts) in her knickers throughout the day. I was suddenly in a world of six or more pairs of pants a day and a constant washing cycle! And our happy Audrey was now a grump most days and not pooing other than the strange small amounts! Naturally, we lowered the dose (thinking it was causing her to soil herself) to half a sachet. But no, nothing changed. So we took a break and the night time poos returned. Then the gaps between poos returned (up to 5 days!), so we went back to half a sachet, but nothing changed.

I considered morning and evening – did the timing affect things?

We went back up to a sachet a day…. but after another 4 day gap of no movement, I remembered something mentioned on a toileting forum (yes, I’d been on a toileting forum!!) and went to trusty Dr Google to find more info on disimpaction. It basically described Audrey’s symptoms (the discomfort she seemed to be in, fidgeting, the micro poos in her pants all day, the lack of any real bowel movements) and advised we needed to “flush out” a blockage from her bowel with high amounts of Movicol. It also said to not to leave the house as you’ll have to deal with watery poos for days in order to get this sorted! Yikes. As the UK was gripped by a heatwave (and we do not handle heat), I figured this was the time to get things going and started the regime. 2 sachets a day, then 3, then 4… by day 8 we were on 7 sachets of Movicol with pantyliners in her knickers to help with minor accidents (she hated being told to wear nappies again!). I am pleased to say that aside from a couple of absolute corker accidents (I threw some pants away), she was doing really well and going to the toilet when needed. I was analysing her bowel movements waiting for the “brown watery” stage and once I felt we had reached that (this was day 9 I believe), we went back down to 1 sachet a day.

Audrey’s stomach changed. The round hard bloat she often had really went down. I feel so bad for leaving it untreated for so long. She has now, for the last 3 days, achieved “normal” stools on the toilet with no soiling in her pants and no night time nappy poos! (Though she has woken me at midnight and 1am to go for a poo!).

We will keep the one sachet a day routine for now and see how we go, I just really wanted to write this to remember what we went through and also to help anyone else in a similar situation as I am a little baffled the GP didn’t warn us about the disimpaction to be honest.

I am so very proud of her because it has been a strange journey to reach age 7 and rarely have actually pooed on a toilet. I know part of that was through fear (pain passing the stools) because she told me as much. It feels like a big milestone to be here with her in pants, able to tell me she needs to go (and don’t get me wrong, I still have to be very strict making her have toilet visits for wees otherwise she would just hold it in all day!). Children with Down syndrome may find that through the low muscle tone they don’t feel the signals for toileting like others and also, the constipation will have caused her a lot of confusion over the years too.

School return is just weeks away and luckily she has 1:1s who will help with her personal care, as the next stage is to teach her to clean herself safely and successfully!

 

 

Poster girl

~ Vickywoo ~ Leave a comment

Part of sharing positive moments of our life is to ensure there is a balance to what people see when it comes to life with a child with Down’s syndrome. When society tells you to “screen” for Down’s syndrome and you love someone born with DS, you want to share your experience of that love to show it’s not a negative thing that needs eradicating.

It’s because of this that sometimes when life isn’t rosy and Audrey is being a pain in public, I feel huge pressure for her to be good. I want to prove people wrong, I want to show them our life is full of fun and happiness. That said, I’m also honest, so I aim to talk about and share the tough stuff too. Unfortunately life with kids is not entirely straight-forward.

Yesterday, I wanted to go for a run, so Ted did the bedtime stories. Rex was feeling particularly clingy and as I got ready to leave the house he was crying and screaming my name, Audrey however was perfectly calm and happy, “Goodbye Mummy!” she said cheerily as she settled into her bed. Meanwhile Rex was at the kiddy gate rattling it and turning red in the face. Yet he is my “typical” child and she has “special needs”!

The day before, at the park, we arrived at our car to return home. Stood just a couple of metres away from the car door Audrey refused to walk across the long grass. Rex was calmly standing by the car, waiting to get in. Audrey was refusing to move. I was negotiating (begging), but to no avail. As I made the decision to pick her up and force her into the car, a pregnant woman walked by. I kept my head down, got the kids in the car and got ready to leave, but really I wanted to turn to her and say “She’s normally lovely!”.

The fact is, I am always nervous around pregnant women when Audrey is with me. Suddenly she is the poster girl for Down’s syndrome. She is the sole representative – a make or break impression for someone making a decision about screening and termination.

It’s not just the “bad” behaviour that concerns me, sometimes when she is quiet or seemingly not engaged, I worry about people thinking she has nothing going on in her brain. I worry they will be judging her on conversational responses (or lack of) and think she is stupid. Yet if Rex was suddenly mute at a stranger’s question, I would dismiss him as shy and move on, I wouldn’t expect him to be judged solely on that interaction.

It would be nice to say we have nothing to “prove”. She is a multifaceted human being who can be happy and sad, easy-going and stubborn, good and naughty – but sometimes the perceptions of people with Down’s syndrome put them in a box of one or the other. They are either considered to be loving, cuddly and amenable… or unpredictable, hard to control and challenging – it’s rare to think of them as having the ability to be all those things and more. Or none of those things!

What we forget when we group people together (as if they were a different species to us) – is that within the similarities there are also many differences. And stereotypes sometimes fit, but sometimes don’t. Just as not every red head is feisty and not every American is loud – people with Down’s syndrome have stuff in common, but they are individual humans.

Audrey is more polite than your average kid. She’s better at sharing than any other kid I’ve met. She’s chatty and confident, she likes to laugh but she doesn’t like to see people get covered in gunge! She works really hard at physical challenges, but can sometimes lack confidence in that area. She’s a great eater, sits at the table like a dream but can be stubborn and wants to be fed by us sometimes! She doesn’t like lots of bubbles in her bath. She settles down at bedtime to sleep very happily.

And I can tell you about her “typical” brother Rex, he isn’t great at sharing, but is excellent at climbing and running. He can be shy, but once he warms up he’s great at making friends. He’s an extremely fussy eater and likes to eat with his fingers, whilst on the move. He doesn’t mind bubbles in the bath, but will help get rid of them for Audrey. He rarely wants to go to sleep at bedtime, he wants to keep playing… they both have my long eyelashes (which I got from my mother) and they both seem to have inherited my mother’s ability to chat!

The two of them have given me a very varied experience of motherhood just by being different kids with different personalities and the fact is, at this stage, Audrey’s Down’s syndrome plays a pretty small part in what makes her different to her brother.

Those of us with children who have Down’s syndrome may feel the pressure to be the model example of how it can all be ok, but we should also be allowed to show it’s not always ok – because that’s life with any child.

 

 

We Have a Runner!

~ Vickywoo

One minute you’re willing your disabled child to learn to walk, then you’re willing them to have the energy to walk to school… the next thing you know they are running off in random directions and you can’t keep up!

My beloved good girl Audrey has discovered the fabulous feeling of freedom. Of running off alone, ignoring pleas, shouts, begs, stern-voice nos… she just keeps going.

I am fully aware that this is a common trait for children with Down’s syndrome (running off). I’ve met many a parent explaining their need for reigns/buggy straps/confined spaces for safety and throughout this I’ve been able to say, “Hmm, Audrey doesn’t really do that”. However she spends a lot of time at school now and not much time outside in open spaces with just me in charge, so maybe there hasn’t been much of an opportunity for the running? Well, she is taking the opportunity now!

This school holiday has barely started and the running off is becoming an issue. There are several reasons this phase is really hitting me hard:

  1. My lack of authority is now obvious. Both children do not seem to respond to me saying no. It’s incredibly frustrating when you try to discipline your children and they either ignore you or find your stern voice hilarious. Everything feels like it is escalating to crazy threats “No more television, ever!” or that a rage builds up and I’m growling at them and dragging them by the arm. Hideous.
  2. Her special needs are now obvious. I’m definitely upset by this “special needs” trait popping up. I hate the thought of anyone seeing me run after her (shouting her name as she ignores me), thinking “That poor woman, life must be so hard with that disabled child”. I just want people to remember that any snippet you might see of anyone’s life is just that – a snippet. So yes, she is being a challenge at the moment out and about, but on that same day she also approached a crying child to check they were ok, she also sat happily and ate her ice cream whilst her typical brother ran riot in the cafe. She also settled at bedtime stroking my face telling me I’m a good girl.
  3. My ability to parent two children feels questionable. This one gets me. If I can’t take my two children out and about without having to chase after one of them, potentially abandoning the other one, then how an earth am I allowed to be their parent? It creates anxiety around every activity I plan and I’m constantly wondering how on earth other mums cope (with two or more moving children)?

Audrey and I have discussed the running off that happened (a lot) yesterday. She has said she is sorry and she knows she needs to do good listening and stay near her mummy. We’ll work on it, but I know it’s going to be hard. It feels like she is changing and I’m struggling with that. I always describe her as a child who like to play by the rules, which remains true in some respects (shoes off indoors, wearing a school uniform), but also she kind of makes up her own rules!

 

A Strong Reception

~ Vickywoo ~ 1 Comment

As the summer holidays are in sight and Audrey is 6 (today!) I thought it might be a good time to write about Audrey’s life at mainstream school so far, because here we are, nearly finished with her first year in reception!

I mysteriously didn’t write (even a little) blog post about Audrey turning 5 (I checked back), but here we are welcoming the big 6 at the end of her first year of mainstream primary school and we have a summer break of (hopefully) fun times ahead.

By now I am sure you know I am so proud of my beautiful, clever, friendly little girl. We have come so far since that hot July day in 2013, when she was presented to me and all I saw was Down’s syndrome. What felt like a cruel blow now feels like the best thing that ever happened to us! We’ve had a fun and exhausting weekend celebrating her birthday, she got a doll’s house, her first “Ken” doll (she has mountains of female dolls) and as always, Audrey gave us amazing feedback saying “This is my best present ever” when she saw the dolls house and eagerly introducing Ken to “her girls” (the other dolls).

So I dropped my 6 year old off at school this morning and now I can share with you my thoughts on how things have gone for us, having a child with special needs attending a mainstream setting.

I had many fears about her starting school (even with a deferral making her one of the eldest, rather than youngest in the class), but I also knew that there was a big chance Audrey would thrive in the setting. All the adults that “worked with her” (key person at nursery, therapists, inclusion service etc) would say what a sociable, outgoing child she is and that she’d have no trouble making friends and that reception was all about making friends.

My main worries were “she’ll get crushed to death” – she is small and her low muscle-tone makes it harder for her to navigate obstacles/stay on her feet when getting knocked around. I also wondered if the whole environment might just be too loud and full-on for her.

As I am slowly learning, she is often more resilient than I expect her to be.

She did indeed get knocked about a fair bit at the beginning of school. Things you couldn’t anticipate (tripping on a trolley, getting hit by a rogue ball in the playground) will simply happen in a busy school environment. It is heart-stopping to get the call that your child has had a bump to the head, but she’s survived and I think everyone is aware now that she’s a bit more fragile than some of the other kids.

We had a parents’ evening at the beginning of school and it was so uplifting. We had fantastic feedback about her settling in, making friends, being part of the class and her positive attitude (she arrives every morning saying “Good morning guys!”). Our second parents’ evening was much the same, aside from one tiny comment about how Audrey wouldn’t be reaching her Early Learning Goals. It’s not like I expected her to be performing at the top of the class of typical children, it’s just that I had forgotten that she wasn’t on the same level, I had forgotten because we are so often focused on all that she can do. You can sort of put yourself in a protective bubble, where you look at your child through rose-tinted glasses because they, to you, are perfect. This was just a reminder that our child, measured against “typical” standards is “delayed”.

Put academic measurements aside, look at the bigger picture and you’ll see Audrey attending mainstream school has been a success. She’s made brand-new friends, she’s learned how to write her name (just about), she can sound out and read all kinds of words and she can tell me details about her day. She has progressed physically and mentally just from interacting and learning alongside her typical peers.

Audrey has school lunches – this may have contributed to an improvement in her eating at home too, as she now eats lots of vegetables and is happy trying new things. She always tells me what she’s had for lunch (macaroni cheese and fish and chips are her favourites!) and explained recently that the children line up for a “squirt” before lunch; yes, I was confused at first, but when she mimed it out I realised she meant hand sanitiser! It’s tiny details like this that really show how far she has come with her communication.

The thing is, I can put myself in the position of a parent of a typical child starting reception… you learn there is a child in the class with “special needs”; they need a 1:1. Being brutally honest I do think it would have raised concerns for me. I would wonder: “Will their behaviour be challenging?”, “Will their needs affect the class as a whole?”. So I was also nervous of the the other parents and their attitudes. I wanted to be able to tell them all that they would soon see what an asset she is.

I’m hoping it didn’t take long for people to see that. Audrey’s presence in the class is not a drain on resources. It’s not a waste of time for her to be there learning with her typical peers – it’s a success story and a positive experience for all concerned. She learns through copying, so typical children propel her education and she provides them an insight into disability. She has her challenges and I’m sure sometimes the other kids wonder what on earth she’s on about(!), but also they’ll see she is kind and thoughtful and likes lots of the same stuff they do. I also like to think her 1:1s are an asset to the class because, yes, they are there specifically for her, but they will no doubt help other children when needed.

Everyone has been welcoming and Audrey has made some great friends. We’ve had birthday parties and play-dates a plenty. She’s been on school trips to the local library to see a puppet show, to the zoo, she took part in sports day, harvest festival at the church and she performed in the nativity as an angel. Audrey was recently chosen to be “Star of the Week” (along with other children), getting a certificate and a little box allowing her to take something into school for “show and tell”. My heart is filled to the brim with pride that she is taking part in all these school activities.

She does get very tired at school, she can exclaim “Not again!?” when I tell her it’s another school day, but mostly she bounds into school full of enthusiasm and bounds out ready to tell me she had so much fun.

I know that sending your child off to school can be nerve-wracking for anyone – suddenly your child is spending a lot of time with people you don’t know very well. But it didn’t take long for her to be well-known throughout the school and I have no doubt that Audrey will have many happy years at this school.

And so on to Audrey’s second year of primary school (confusingly; year one). She enters with a knowledge of the school routine, a good group of friends and her can-do attitude! But for now, a bit of summer time fun and a break from the school routine… a welcome break but also a terrifying stretch of days ahead entertaining my two active children… wish me luck!

School of hard knocks

~ Vickywoo ~ Leave a comment

Since Audrey started school last September I have had quite a few texts and calls relating to her falling at school. Sometimes she trips, but often than not she is knocked over by other children running or playing nearby.

Yesterday I had one of those calls. I had just calmed Rex from a grumpy car nap wake up and I was preparing lunch when the call came. The school nurse calmly explained there was nothing to worry about, but that Audrey had recently been in to see her, having fallen in the playground, onto her face. Cutting her lip. Hitting her tooth (which doesn’t seem loose, don’t worry). She’s fine now. She also got quite wet so could I bring a coat at pick up? Eek.

I did my bit. The equivalent of smiling and nodding but down the phone (“Mmm, ok, ok”). I hung up. And then I cried. I went through what I assume are cliched phases – upset (cry cry), angry (why wasn’t someone stood right by her?!), acceptance (but they said she was ok) and helplessness (imagining her so far away from my arms, hurt and crying).

I pulled myself back together and sat with Rex to watch Peter bloody Rabbit for the tenth time this week and eat lunch.

If you don’t know; it is torture to hear your child has been hurt. “Some older boys were running past and they knocked her…” Did they notice? Did they care? Did she scream? Sob? Ask for me? Did someone cuddle her? Did she bleed?

Audrey at school
Audrey at school

Yes, torture. I still can’t quite get over how long the school years are. How many more of these calls will I take?

Interestingly I also had a call from Audrey’s speech and language therapist (SALT), to discuss her progress ahead of her education, health and care plan. She expressed how Audrey could benefit from her 1:1 taking a step back to allow her to play with her peers. It made me see more clearly (because at that point I was stupidly wondering why her 1:1 wasn’t basically holding her hand, stood exactly next to her like a bodyguard to prevent her getting knocked over!). There are times to be involved and times to step back. Obviously she can’t really have someone protecting her at all times. Plus she does need to have a full life experience (bumps, bruises and all).

The SALT was full of good things to say about Audrey’s progress and abilities, which was a nice uplifting call to take after the horror injury call!

And when I went to collect Audrey (expecting a gaping wound in her lip), she was fine. A graze on her lip (barely noticeable), still full of beans and thrilled to see me, definitely not scarred for life in any sense.

Yet still I found myself picturing the moment over and over. As I was brushing my teeth that night, I imagined her getting knocked over and a full shudder ran through my body and my stomach flipped. I felt sick. My sweet fragile little girl. I now completely understand why my mother used to describe as as her “precious jewels” (we thought she was such an embarrassing loon).

Audrey drinks her juice from a straw
Audrey getting refreshed after dance class

And so, today was another dance class trial. One where I should drop her off (but they allow you to stay for the first session, so of course I stayed!). But I guess I have to take a step back and start allowing her to get on with things, in the same way I do dropping her off at school.

I watched her today, filled with pride as always. She was like Phoebe Bouffay “I’m totally doing it!” and that was awesome.

Party on

~ Vickywoo ~ Leave a comment

I mentioned on Instagram the other week about a clunky moment when a pediatrician asked if Audrey was being invited to birthday parties. I found it quite odd. Audrey has been going to birthday parties since birth. A friend made me realise this was the doctor’s way of measuring that Audrey is being included and has formed friendships at school.

Funnily enough, just recently we have had loads of birthday parties. Audrey loves a good party, however sometimes the bouncy castle is too busy for her. Sometimes the general ambiance is too loud for her. Sometimes she’s just not in the mood. But mostly she enjoys all that comes with sort of event; party music, dancing, party food, pass the parcel… and of course, the wonderful cake moment singing ‘Happy birthday’ – she does this with huge enthusiasm and joy. On your birthday, if Audrey is there, it’s like having your own personal cheerleader.

Last Saturday we went to one of those parties that just wasn’t her thing. We arrived and the hall was loud and chaotic with her school friends running around, making a lot of noise, but she was ok. It was such a pleasure to see her hugging her friends, holding hands, running around together, it was a great feeling watching her being part of the gang.

Then the entertainer arrived. Uh-oh. It started well, Audrey sat laughing along with her friends and I was sat back on a chair, thinking how well she was doing and how far we had come… when she started to look for me with her bottom lip protruding. She came to sit on my lap “Can we go home Mummy? I don’t like it, he’s scary, it’s too loud”. She asked to go to the toilet (a cunning way to leave the loud room) and she did do a wee (hurrah!), but we ended up waiting in the hallway and then the kitchen, because she was too upset by the noise in the main hall. Once the entertainer finished, there was a party tea (which she didn’t eat) and a brief moment with music where she ran around with her friends (and my goodness 5 year olds are raucous), but I was relieved and thought we’d see this party through… when the entertainer came back to do his closing set. So we left early.

Where we (society) have come so far is that Audrey was even invited. She is part of a mainstream school class and she is treated the same as her typical peers. Also, everyone is understanding. No one is asking “What’s wrong with her?” (because she doesn’t like the entertainer, but every other child does), people are not making us feel weird. It’s fine that she’s not feeling it and off we go.

One thing I know, Audrey will always be invited to birthday parties. Yes, the kids will start to cherry pick their favourite friends and everyone should have that right, but I am confident that my kind, gentle, fun little girl will be considered an asset to a party by lots of children.

We have another school friend’s party in February. I know it involves a big bouncy castle and maybe some soft play, I suspect it won’t be her thing, but we will go. Because we have to try. Audrey has been to the cinema, bowling, she has seen live bands, watched parades, been on a Ferris wheel – there are many things I’ve been concerned she might not like… but we tried anyway. Because sometimes she loves things that we might have been told she would hate. Knowing she has special needs means we are aware of some of the challenges she may have, but nothing can predict your child’s personality and their preferences, you just have to live your life and discover together, one party at a time!

The Down Syndrome Diary

~ Vickywoo ~ Leave a comment

Back in 2014(!) I remember vividly that I was walking Audrey around in her buggy when I received a message from Jamie to see if I’d be interested in writing in a “physical diary” about Down’s syndrome – to put pen to paper and tell our story. I was very flattered and of course said yes straight away.

Audrey cuddling the Down Syndrome Diary

I had found so much comfort from Instagram accounts and blogs that I found (relating to DS) in those early days. I was inspired to share our family life and so adding to a travelling diary seemed like a great idea.

Jamie started the diary and began to send it around the world to gather family’s heartfelt stories, but I don’t think anyone could have know how long this might take or that so many people would want to be involved; she’d have to send off lots of other diaries to meet demand!

Once the diary finally arrived my house (I was definitely feeling scared to have it) I thought I’d add my entry and pass it on to the final contributors. Simple. Maybe a week to turn it around?

But, just like everyone else, it took me a while to get going with the writing. I needed to read the other entries. Then I needed some pictures of it with Audrey… but she wasn’t playing ball and oh how precious a real book of heartfelt stories is, I couldn’t let the kids have free-reign with it!

Finally I put pen to paper and wrote my entry (slightly disappointed by my handwriting!), but I must admit the words didn’t come as easily as I’d have liked. I felt a lot of pressure not to repeat what other families had written and also not to repeat things I have written in my blog over the years.

I’m very proud to have taken part, added our entry and pictures of Audrey, but of course I feel like I could have done more. Poured my heart out more, stuck in the best photographs, said something deep. And I forgot to take pictures of my entry and/or type up my words, so I can’t even tell you exactly what I wrote! Oops. Oh well, it’s with the penultimate contributor now, before hopefully winging its way to a (famous) advocate to write the forward to what will hopefully be a published piece of work!

One thing I do know, is that writing makes me happy. Advocating for Audrey and people like her makes me happy. As she begins her new journey from toddler life to schoolgirl (!), I too shall be start my new journey to pursue my writing. To devote time and energy to it, but also have the flexibility needed to work around Audrey’s school life. So far (fingers crossed), Audrey loves school and is throwing herself into it all will full enthusiasm and making me proud like she always does.

Audrey Starts School!

~ Vickywoo ~ Leave a comment

Audrey holding a picture of me at primary school

I’ve just dropped off a piece of me in a classroom with lots of people I don’t know. The little lady has started reception at primary school.

My daughter is friendly, kind and gentle. She loves imaginative play and reading books. She likes routine. I have no doubt that she will enjoy school, I’m just not sure how much I’ll enjoy her being there!

Anyone who knows me that I will cry at TV programmes, songs that come on the radio and a fleeting thought about someone’s sad situation, so it was a huge surprise that I didn’t cry today dropping Audrey off at her first day of school.

Several factors helped – school drop off is not a romantic, sound-tracked moment.; it’s carnage! We went as a family, with a child in a buggy and one on the loose, we battled through a crowd of legs and shouting and hugging and hellos and goodbyes to get to her class. Also, Audrey was very excited. She managed to (almost) walk all the way there (major achievement) and she jumped, sang and hugged her way down the road, she was genuinely happy to be going to school. It’s tricky to feel the true emotion of a momentous occasion when you are in it. It’s actually easier for me to be tearful anticipating it or reflecting on it.

And so, here I am in a cafe. Ted and Rex are off shopping (typical boys!) and Audrey is in her school classroom, with her teachers.

Of course I can’t help but reflect on 5 years with her. 10 months of maternity leave of just us, followed by a mix of us and nursery, us bump and nursery, us Rex and nursery… and now Audrey has her own thing, she is a schoolgirl!

“They” say it goes in a blink of an eye. I don’t know if  I feel quite like that, but I do feel immensely proud of Audrey and how far we have come from tiny baby on oxygen to confident 5 year old.

As I analyse my feelings, I can see what is creeping in… I felt it during maternity leave with Rex. She had her nursery days and we went to groups but I was suddenly a different mum, I was seemingly a mum of one typical child but that was not my whole identity. She is a part of me, a part of me that I am truly proud of and it can feel very strange to be out and about without her. What a mix of emotions this brings and a new chapter for us all – I have handed in my notice at work and plan to work on freelance writing. I am very lucky to have a supportive husband allowing me to take this leap and it also means that I can be there to drop off and pick up Audrey from school.

Happy September and good luck to everyone in their “firsts”, I love autumn and I’m feeling so very happy that its crisp and sunny outside and the leaves will soon be crunchy under our feet. My favourite time of year.