Audrey turns nine!

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.

Let them be little?

Audrey turns nine in July and she still loves CBeebies (for any non-UK readers, this is a preschoolers TV channel, aimed at babies up to around age six or seven). She still loves dolls. She loves her toy kitchen. She doesn’t choose to read independently (unless it’s her assigned reading book from school), but she loves to read picture books from memory and be read to.

I am aware she is always going to be “younger” than her actual age. It’s not an issue for us and hasn’t really been a big deal, since having a younger brother has “allowed” her to continue to enjoy younger pursuits… In the same way that a lot of children with older siblings will find themselves interested in things considered “too old” for them. But who’s to say what’s for a six year old and what’s for an eight year old?

We were in a great Brighton park recently, an enclosed play area with a gate, big slide, variety of swing types, a climbing frame, sand pit… I guess I would say it is skewed towards smaller kids slightly, but still plenty to do for my two at eight and six. Rex got playing with a boy his age and the man with him (who made it clear he was a guardian but not a relative) started saying “I think you’re too old for this park now, it’s a bit boring isn’t it? I think we should stick to Preston Park.”. The reason this annoyed me was because it was the adult deciding, the kid was having a perfectly good time and didn’t say that the park wasn’t good enough. My two enjoyed themselves and I felt no need to question the targeted age of the park.

At home, Audrey’s love of (almost) all CBeebies television shows continues. Rex is very happy watching most of her choices too, but he rarely asks for them (he has moved onto CBBC shows, but prefers Netflix). For the first time in months Audrey chose to watch Bing and my instinct (probably because I’m not a fan) was to say “I think you might be a bit old for Bing now?” but of course I corrected myself and said of course, if that’s what you want to watch that’s fine. Even Rex sat watching it happily.

Audrey does enjoy TV targeted at her age as well as the mountain of much younger stuff, so why does it matter? It’s not that she can’t follow a plot or enjoy a more “grown up” show, she just still enjoys the young shows. That said, I’ve noticed she really does prefer mild stuff. She doesn’t mind a bad guy and a bit of conflict, but would prefer it to be very gentle. Shows for older kids can get very frantic, loud and full on – an assault on the senses at times! This is not Audrey’s vibe (Rex however – loves that).

Of course I understand encouraging kids to grow up and do things for themselves, but do we also have to start telling them what books/TV/toys are ok to enjoy? I mean, we excitedly read them Harry Potter, getting four or five books in before realising it really gets too old for them and they were bored/not really following what was going on. I’m relieved to be currently reading the Amelia Fang books which are much lighter in subject and length! And we still read two picture books a night because I love picture books (and so do they).

I remember I was in Year 7 (aged 11) when catching up with friends and we were talking about our Barbies. One of my friends said she wasn’t into them anymore, everyone agreed and so that was that, I got home that day and packed mine away. They had been declared uncool and too young. How much longer would I have happily played with them I wonder?

Audrey has asked for a picnic party at home for her birthday with traditional party games (musical statues etc) and I’m already worrying about whether her friends will be rolling their eyes and cringing at the choice to still play games. I don’t know what is acceptable fun for a group of eight-nine year olds!! I guess they are just going to have to accept what Audrey finds fun.

Anyway, I’m not sure where I am going with this little vent. I guess I just want everyone to consider whether you need to push your child onto the next level, the older thing, the more grown up thing… or let them decide when they are ready? I get you might not want them using a dummy at school age or dragging a teddy into college, but there is something to be said for letting kids take the lead. And for letting them be little for that little bit longer!

Audrey with the doll’s pram she got Christmas 2021 (aged 8)
Audrey with one of her many, many dolls! This is LuLu, she was 50p from a charity shop.

We Have a Runner!

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!

 

Why I Still Love Christmas (having lost both parents)…

Christmas was once the most excruciatingly exciting time of year. From age 3 to 13ish it was the highlight of  life, from the build up (decorations going up, rifling through the wardrobe for presents, the BIG shop that included fizzy pop and chocolate) to that fateful night where the anticipation is just too much and you cannot sleep to that morning (eek I am sure we were up at 4am sometimes!) where the presents were ripped open and the day was pure joy and chaos.

We had big family Christmases, I think at their peak there was around 12 for dinner. My dad’s parents were not around (aside from his stepmother but she wasn’t with us Christmas Day), but my mother’s parents were close (Granddad was hilarious and a must-have for family games), I had three siblings, two old enough to have partners/kids, sometimes my uncle would join us with his wife, I think we had a great nan around too. We had one of those extendable tables and garden chairs with cushions were added into the mix.

I always had a mince pie for breakfast. We always played charades and various games in the evening. We always ate too much. I would have a Christmas Day outfit planned (a velvet dress generally, ooh I remember a year with ski pants and a roll neck!). My mother would embarrass me with her interest in flashing Christmas themed earrings and knitwear. My dad made me ‘snowball’ cocktails (don’t worry, mostly lemonade).

Sometime in the early nineties I accompanied mum to the local garden centre to finally update our hideous Christmas decorations. For years we had dragged those sparkly pink, purple, blue, silver… (you name it) foil garlands and lanterns (that hung from the centre of the room to each corner) down from the loft. We had a toilet-roll-holder-type-angel for the top of the tree. We revamped things that year and switched to green and red traditional stuff and ditched the tinsel. It was a big change back then.

It was in my late teens/early twenties that it really hit me that Christmas would never be the same again. I was no longer filled with that crazy level of excitement, our numbers had diminished a little, but most of all we were all grown up. Only a single nephew remained “young enough” for true Christmas excitement… for me, mum’s novelty stocking fillers became eye-rollerable rather than excellent (and she was an absolute stocking-filler-pro! Pre-internet we had lots of personalised items with our name or initials on, as well as very bizarre stuff like chocolate shaped like sardines in a tin, I LOVED my stocking in its heyday).

By the time I had met Ted and we tried that Christmas juggling you do when you are first a couple and want to spend Christmas together, but also do not want to leave your traditional family Christmas behind… I was ready to accept that Christmas had changed for good.

I think that made it easier for me to live with the fact that now, Christmas is very far away from that of my childhood. I have no parents, I have lost one sibling (and the connection to her two grown up children is weaker), My eldest brother is… well that’s difficult to describe, let’s just say he’s ‘a problem’ and my other brother battled cancer this time last year. I have one grandparent left, but she doesn’t know who I am and she is in a nursing home.

Yet none of this has ruined my enjoyment of this time of year. It has definitely affected it, you can’t escape the sadness loss brings, but that’s life. Naturally every emotional Christmas advert sets me off. Every Christmas song. I am either smiling or crying or both. But I’m a grown up now, it comes with the territory.

My mother was also a fan of Christmas. She liked to complain (in more recent years) about the stress and the effort, but she still had two Christmas tress and a crazy amount of decorations. She would still stuff the cupboard with nuts, chocolates and crisps even if only a few people were visiting, hey even if no one was visiting! Now I am in charge of creating the magic (hiding the presents not rifling through the wardrobe to find them!). Now I want to wear stupid Christmas jumpers and hats, now I see the fun in the tat.

And of course Audrey and Rex bring a whole new level to Christmas. We have their innocence and joy to surround us and their happy faces at what will be (in the scheme of things) quite simple presents. I took Audrey to an eye test last week and in the car she was singing along to Wham’s “Last Christmas” (she catches on to familiar tunes quite quickly and she’s definitely enthusiastic, if not in key), it was lovely.

The thing is, I like to think that everyone is in a better mood in December. So what’s not to like about that? A couple of weeks ago, a friend posted on Instagram about Kindly and the project they were running for people to write a letter for someone who is isolated at Christmas time. So I signed up immediately and within hours I had an email confirming I would be writing to a woman called Sheila (which was my mother’s name). I mean, obviously I was in tears but I was also so wonderfully uplifted by this tiny coincidence. That same day, I had stopped to donate to an old man collecting for the Youth Cancer Trust in our local Tesco and we had a very long chat. He was perplexed by the amount of people who completely ignored him saying “Good morning” and I told him about Audrey and how she loves to say hello to people but often they are just in their own world (or on their phone/listening to something on headphones). It’s part of life now to be zoned out and not in the moment with the other humans around you.

Which is why it is important to remember that Christmas is a time to connect with people. I had little wobble the other day when our ridiculous bumper pack of Audrey’s school pictures arrived and I thought; wow, we really don’t have that many people to give these to. But then I remembered that we do. We still have lots of family left and we have many friends who are “aunties” and “uncles” to our children. We have a wonderfully wide network and I am so grateful for that.

Every Christmas will be different, it may have felt like pure light as a kid and now it has darkness too, but I can handle that, because now my children are building their Christmas memories and they only see the light.

Merry Christmas one and all x

Audrey Starts School!

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.

We’ve come a long way, babies

I have a tendency to project. Always wanting to be at the next stage of life, always worrying about what’s next, definitely struggling to live in the now.

Today I sat with Audrey whilst she fed herself a yoghurt and her younger brother napped upstairs in his cot. I took a breath and marvelled at where I sat, how far we have come.

In Rex’s tiny speck of a lifetime (7 and a half months), he has gone from only sleeping in the sling or on me at night, to sleeping in a buggy, cot or sling, sleeping at night (in his Sleepyhead) in a cot from around 7pm to 4 or 5am. He sometimes even settles without a fuss. We sit and eat dinner without the sound of a crying baby and I sleep for one long stretch rather than I’m tiny 1 or 2 hours stints. He is eating well and taking formula happily now the booby is no more. He crawls, pulls to stand, cruises along the furniture, claps his hands and is a happy boy.

Audrey has taken independent steps, continues to amaze us with her language and has an ability to make me cry with joy on a daily basis.

Once upon a time, Audrey wouldn’t eat food off a plate (she was so used to the high chair table). We worked so hard to get her to eat off a plate, but she would only accept one piece of food at a time! I mention this because the other week at Whoopsadaisy I put cheese and crackers on her plate and someone said “She’s having different foods on the same plate now?” And it took me a while to understand what they meant! Because I had forgotten how hard we worked to get Audrey to accept a plate of varied food. Just like I can now give her a spoon and a yoghurt and she just eats (she used to get stroppy and say “Mummy do it!!”).

Audrey asks to use the potty, she often drinks from an open cup. Rex holds his own bottle, he responds well to us signing “milk” and “food”.

They achieve great things and all I can do is think “Yes, but I wish she fed herself every meal time..” Or “Yes, but I wish he was sleeping through until 6.30am…” I need to be satisfied with how far we have come!

I guess sometimes it feels like baby steps (no pun intended), but we are getting there – both of my beauties are coming along and making me proud every day. 

On the move!

Watch out world, Audrey is on the move! 

It’s been a surprisingly underwhelming transition from random bum-shuffling (pivoting in a circle, sometimes resulting in movement by chance) to purposeful bum-shuffling (moving her legs to travel straight ahead to reach a specific target – usually a shoe or rucksack or the coffee table).

I expected whoops and a fan fare, but we were more like “is she moving forward properly?” And it was tested with her interest in a shirt sleeve dangling from the ironing board (as you do). Ted kept moving back and Audrey kept getting closer… Then we knew. Mobility was here.

When Audrey first rolled, I was cheering like crazy person and filming her to capture the milestone. I decided she was a genius and I wanted everyone to know what she had achieved at that very minute. She was ahead of her “typical” peers, it was very exciting.

Fast-forward to now. Her “typical” buddies are all walking (of course) and have been for about 8 months or more. Some where along the way the pressure for her to smash records and be a genius baby wore off. I guess I realised that one day it just won’t matter when she started moving. She’ll be walking alongside me and I’ll probably have a few little moments in my head (“yippee hurrah she’s walking!!”), but eventually it’ll just be something she does. I mean, it can be a little odd having a toddler who doesn’t toddle, but you get used to it. She does other things that are pretty great, like signing lots of words, dancing like a pro and an amazing elephant impression.

But now she also moves. Which is pretty major, so why the lack of fanfare? Well, she’s not very fast, so it’s not causing major stress in terms of baby-proofing (yet), in fact, she can sit still for quite some time when occupied by toys or music. I guess I also feel less inclined to prove she’s “achieving”, whereas before I wanted to be sure people knew she was doing well and progressing, I think I’m more comfortable with who she is. Life isn’t a competition; not even for kids with developmental delays. We’re not trying to beat her DS peers to the finish line. It still feels like Audrey is growing up ridiculously fast, even though she’s traveling at a much slower speed than typical kids, so why would I wish this time away?

Anyway, in the interests of full documentation, Audrey started her purposeful bum-shuffling on Saturday 28th March 2015.