Victory, therapy, with an updated Victory

Yesterday I hit "post" on this piece, but need to add to it. Are you sitting down? This morning, I woke up to the sound of a vacuum. My three girls had woken up, gone straight to our attic to organize all the toys, barbie clothes, legos, etc, and then proceeded to vacuum the space. It is spotless up there. All while I was sleeping. For fun. Because they knew we had friends coming over and cleaning is, wait for it, the right thing to do when company is coming.

I don't even know what to do with myself.

Today I dropped Mimi off at her yoga class and she laughed when she found out she was the only kid again. I was all proud of her for being so OK with doing her thing, not being self conscious at all, not wrapped up in what someone might think. (Please USA don't ruin her). Then I thought. Wait, I want a private yoga lesson. With that twenty-something heartthrob teacher. How is this fair? And should I be concerned I am leaving my twelve-year-old with a twenty something heartthrob with a name like Tucker or Hunter or something? I don't know anything. And I certainly never thought in a million years I'd have a twelve-year-old Ethiopian daughter who had private yoga classes with hot guys. I just didn't see it coming.

The kids' first snow fall resulted in eating, snowmen and jolly frolicking. I hate the stuff. Bah humbug.

This week I took the six kids to IKEA, list in hand. We were on a mission for a friend who does not live near this abomination of a store. Forgive this listing our achievements, for they truly require documentation. After all, have you ever taken this many unstable little people to this place?

They all sat and ate lunch like normal humans who were not raised by wolves. (Thank you kids-eat-free Tuesdays!)
No one spilled anything. No one choked or gagged or peed their pants.
No one ran away or got lost.
We did helped a little lost boy who, incidentally, didn't match his Mama. I had noticed them earlier because I always notice other non-matchy matchy families. No one at Ikea would have thought for second to not look for an African American mom for this boy. He was brown, kinky hair, and his mom was Chinese. Luckily, I saw him, grabbed his hand and headed back where his family was.
The crowning glory of the afternoon: We made it through that ridiculous place with zero tears. I don't know the last time we made it two hours anywhere without tears and for some incomprehensible reason they all chose to make it through IKEA way past nap time. They won. I won.
Also, what the heck, yene lijotch? Where are these skills while we are trying to do school work, or go to church?

Also worth noting, they love this place so much and that is kinda wrapped up in why Hubs and I never want to take our children to any kind of Disney establishment: the insane joy and overload they can experience for free just playing at IKEA for fifteen minutes. I don't think we are cut out for Disney.*

*Will revisit topic in eight years. But frankly, we'd rather visit Bermuda or Ethiopia again. I just don't see how Cinderella and Buzz could move up the list into worthwhile expenditures.I mean, can you imagine the thousand-dollar tantrums and overload we'd get there?

Felt proud to vote Tuesday. I maybe felt prouder that I took my kids with me. The day before we had a lesson devoted to democracy, and who gets to vote and why, taxes, withholdings, entitlement programs, charity in general, ending in watching part of the debates, and our own town-hall speeches. The children had thoughtful answers about the pros and cons of the candidates and Samantha made an excellent point that whoever lost the election should be the Vice President so everyone in America could be happy that their priorities would still be validated and heard in Washington. There you have it. A six-year-old has the solution to our woes. Still, all this being said, the electoral college kinda takes the wind out of my voting sails. It's hard to tell people "your vote counts" when that is only true for about ten counties in the whole US. However, I will say this, while I am not the woman to reform it because I have no working knowledge of things like election reform, I will make some cookies for whomever does.

The primary source of stress in my life for the last six weeks has not been adding two new children to our family. It has been my daily and nightly search to find therapy for Tsega, who is turning three next week and aging out of Early Intervention. Tsega has had, by the hand of God, the most amazing women placed in his life to support him and his parents and the last two years have been surivivable almost entirely because of the therapists he sees each week. They keep us all stable, above water. Over the past few months I have probably looked into twenty different therapy places/people and none have turned out to be a good fit for my sweet little man. Some didn't want to work with him becuase he was too young. Some places didn't accept insurance. Some folks that were recommended to me said they wouldn't work with him because they didn't feel they were the right person. It has felt like a ticking time bomb because I did not want "holes" in his therapy. In my, or rather, his ideal world, Tsega would end therapy with EI one week, and the next, start at the new place. This is it. His last week. And I still don't have everything lined up. I have headaches, can't sleep. I have even been emailing specialists in other states. Talking with Hubs about flying Tsega and I to therapy.


As today a door closed, and I fought some ugly crying, a window opened just a crack. The HR chica at Hub's work is calling our insurance *for me* to ask all the questions I would have to ask about getting reimbursed for a therapy I'd like Tsega to receive.  The mercy and genius of this arrangement, if it is not obvious, is that she can do it in the privacy of her office and I'd have to do with with the kids screaming and bleeding. She has no idea the burden she just lifted from me today. I also appreciate she knows ins and outs of insurance better than I do and will ask questions that probably wouldn't occur to me to ask.


Wanna know what I am trying to get insurance to cover for my sweet man? Hippotherapy. No, not hippos like in Botswana. But occupational and behavioral therapy with a licensed therapist who also teaches children to ride horses. OT via horseback riding. I actually found an OT who is willing to work with Tsega even though he is young (two farms I looked into recently only work with kids age four and up) and she actually has openings starting in three weeks. And all I need is insurance to decide to cover this.

I am praying this is the right fit. He is losing his special teachers, his best friends, frankly. He needs something in that place. I learned a long time ago that Hubs and I are not enough for him. We love him. And when it comes to trauma, love is not enough. He needs support we cannot give him. And I would very much love this to be "it." I feel a heavy mantle of responsibility about this. It has turned into a spiritual journey for me, frankly. I am a crazy woman on a mission to find him the right people. 


Deborah said...

I love the snow pictures! And Tsega is sooo cute! Also, I just noticed you updated the picture on your header. I don't know if I've said this before, but in all the pictures you've posted since the 2 girls came home, you just look like such a family. I don't know, everyone looks right together somehow.

And wow, that vacuuming. You are doing something right! (though it's possible the center where those 2 girls were staying before they came to the US emphasized cleaning, too)

Nancy said...

Just a little from the one on the ahead of you on the age-out-of-early-intervention trail,
So you know T&J graduated out last May, and this Aug they started the next phase, Jude mainstreamed and Tess in the "special" kindergarten. I was worried sick. I went to preview it. I got sicker. It wasn't at all comfortable for me. But her EI teacher said she thought it was best. 3 months later... IT IS WONDERFUL!!! Tess is starting to be mainstreamed into the regular ol' classroom this week! fingers crossed it goes well. She's making SO much progress and I'm not so sick anymore.
From the closed door and through the open window,

Shiloh said...

I actually just met a therapist who does OT via horseback riding. She loves doing it and thinks it is a wonderful thing. I wish you all the best in getting that approved!!!

cristy fermin said...

I've never experienced snow. But when I looked at those photos, I think I've got an idea of how does it feels like.Thanks for sharing.

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LJ said...

Just so you know, when the Constitution was originally written, the vice president was elected separately from the president. The person with the most votes in the electoral college became president, the one with the second highest amount was the vice president. This backfired is some of the first elections and the 12th amendment was added to have them run as a team instead.

kristen said...

I taught in a hippotherapy center for a number of years. Now I am a client (for my PTSD). It is a wonderful therapy that can positively affect so many different areas. I sincerely hope your insurance will cover it.

Jarom and Melissa said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Jarom and Melissa said...

Love the snow picture and that your kids are becoming creative (and political thinkers . . . I think the country might run better if it were run by the ideas of kids like her). I also like that you take your kids to Ikea for fun. Bryson loves to go there as well. I totally get your point about Disneyland. When the park makes your kid go nuts, why pay hundreds of dollars to go there? So glad you found someone to work with the little guy.
- Melissa