Funny Bits With The Girl

The girl is often full of herself, and she’s had quite a few funny moments over the past week. Here are a few of them:

Baby Girl told me about playing with another little girl at recess. Baby Girl is 41 inches tall and this little girl, who is just a year older, is almost five feet tall. I was shocked to learn she is six! Anyway, they play family together. I asked BG about their roles, since I know she hates getting stuck as the baby, which is what usually happens.

“My friend is the mommy, and I am the pet lion,” she told me.

I love everything about that.


I was getting something out of LM’s closet and was kneeling over when his old infant car seat fell out of the top and hit me base-first on the head. I yelled and Baby Girl asked what was wrong. I told her, and her response was less than sympathetic.

“You’ll be fine.”

She sounds like a seasoned mom.


BG and LM probably fight more than they get along, but they do have their super sweet moments. LM was helping her put together a LEGO set her grandma gave her and told BG how much he loved her. Baby Girl said she loved him, too.

“I love you more than nothing.”

She has a way with words, huh?


When I called for BG to come into the living room and get ready, she didn’t answer and let her magnadoodle answer for her:

I love that she put an exclamation.

Happy Tuesday!

To The Mountains We Went

I’m one of those people who likes to make plans but doesn’t like to follow through with them. When the time comes to go wherever, I just want to stay home. But, after some back and forth over whether we’d keep our plans to go to the mountains for the weekend, we went, and we had a pretty good time overall.

The trip started out rough due to a meltdown BG had in the car when we picked her up from school. After she screamed for a while, I finally got to the bottom of why she was upset. Her teacher wasn’t at school that day, so things were awful. Nothing in specific, just because the teacher wasn’t there. Thankfully it didn’t last long. After we picked up the boy, we headed out.

Due to some awful traffic, the drive took closer to five hours instead of 3.5, so we got there at 9:00. It’s not like we planned to do anything if we had gotten there earlier, though, other than maybe get some ice cream. That extra hour and a half did mean we got to listen to BG ask “How much longer?” and “Are we almost there?” an extra hundred times. I eventually put my earbuds in for a little quiet.

Rain from the tropical storm moved in early on Saturday, so that killed our outdoor plans. My mother-in-law suggested driving over to Gatlinburg or Pigeon Forge and said it would only be a half an hour drive. We trusted her, and two hours later, we arrived. The kids were none too thrilled about a 4-hour round trip drive after the drive the night before. It turned out that my MIL just wanted to go over there, so she fudged the time a little. Sigh, next time we’ll check. We did see a lot of elk on the ride, which was really cool. At one point, we saw a bunch sitting on the ground and BG shouted, “It’s an elk garden!” That is officially my favorite way to refer to a group of anything from now on.

The kids had fun at a trampoline park in Pigeon Forge, and then we got dinner and made the drive back. On Sunday, we had breakfast, did a little shopping, and drove part of the way back on the Blue Ridge Parkway so we could see the fall foliage. That added time made the trip back about six hours total, and I’m pretty sure that no one would complain if we didn’t see the inside of our car for a week. Again, it was worth the added time.

We are usually hesitant to make weekend trips with Baby Girl. She has never done well on vacation for the first couple of days. It has always been Meltdown City. After joining an autism page on Facebook, I saw other people talk about how their kids took a couple of days to adjust to the new environment, and that made sense. She did well for the most part, though, and I think that is due to the “camper” we stayed in, as she called it. I thought we were going to stay in a hotel room, but it turned out that my MIL booked a one-room trailer in a “trailer resort.” Apparently there are lots of resorts in the mountains, and they absolutely are not what you’d expect when you hear the word resort. 😀

The mobile home was neat as a pin, though. BG was thrilled with it when she stepped in because it looked like MIL’s trailer, aside from it only having one bedroom. The main bedroom, the kitchen, the living room, the TV set, the couch, and the kitchen table were all in the same place as MIL’s, so it was a familiar layout. She commented many times over how it looked just like MIL’s house and actually wanted to stay there instead of going anywhere.

The place wasn’t as cramped as I expected it to be, but there was still only one bed. My husband and I tried to sleep on the pullout couch, but got two hours of sleep each. It was miserably uncomfortable, tilted so that you slid down, and the metal bars were in our back. LM couldn’t sleep on the blow-up mattress, either, so the three of us were dragging big time on Saturday. On Sunday, I slept on the couch without pulling it out, my husband slept on couch cushions, and we put extra blankets on LM’s mattress for extra padding, and we all slept a little better. We couldn’t have been happier to be home in our beds last night.

So, I told you that BG did well the two days we were there, but let me tell you about the ride home. We went to a store to buy some souvenirs, and then I wanted to walk over to a fudge shop to see if they had any caramel fudge. It would’ve taken all of five minutes. BG decided she didn’t want to do this and had an absolute fit, kicking and screaming.

I got pissed off and decided I didn’t want fudge anymore, so we left, and my husband took BG’s new toy from her for acting that way. For the next hour and a half, she screamed in the car. She threw her shoes at us and kicked the back of my seat repeatedly. It was miserable, and she didn’t let up on the screaming for the whole 90 minutes. We stopped a few times at overlooks to take pictures and couldn’t get some as a family for a while because of the meltdown. She eventually stopped, and when she did, it was a 180 as usual — she went from screaming to talking in her super sweet voice about the leaves and tunnels. (When asked what her favorite part of going to the mountains was, she said the tunnels.)

When she perked up, we made a few more stops and got some good pictures. We also stopped and walked over to let the kids see an area called Sliding Rock in Pisgah National Forest, which was lovely. During the summer, people slide down the rock into water that doesn’t get above 55 degrees in the summer. It’s fun but so damn cold. We’re going to try to go back next August and stay a little longer and let the kids do the rock.

We got in around 9:00 last night and are absolutely dead today, despite sleeping okay. Too bad the kids have missed too much school to take a day off! I’m glad we decided to go, because it really was pretty. My husband and I talked about doing a weekend trip for just the two of us. When we would go away for the weekend before the kids came along, we would almost always go to the mountains. I prefer the beach now, but I would like to spend more time browsing around and drive up to Grandfather Mountain and do a little hiking.

How was your weekend?

Back To School

After a week at home following the tonsillectomy, the girl is back at school this morning. I was worried she’d need to be out longer, because even on Saturday, she was cranky, complained of headaches, wasn’t eating or drinking much, and was tired enough to be napping. She did a 180 yesterday, though, and aside from a bit of crankiness, she went through the day just fine. She actually ate more regularly and drink a bunch of water, so I know that helped!

BG had her tonsils removed because of sleep apnea, and her doctor thought that it might help with ADHD symptoms in addition to snoring. I definitely haven’t noticed as much snoring over the past few days. I’m guessing it may take some time to see the ADHD symptoms decrease if we do at all. Oddly enough, we’ve seen more of the odd sensory behaviors (she is rubbing everything and sat in the bathtub running water over her hands for half an hour three times, for example), which we were hoping would decrease.

I was working with her on some makeup work for school when she felt up to it, and lord, it was like pulling teeth to keep her on track. I see why she brings home so much incomplete work. Part of the makeup work was working on handwriting. From what I’ve seen of the other students’ work on display, she has the worst handwriting in the class. She has developmental coordination disorder, so the poor handwriting goes along with it. She also has a summer birthday, which doesn’t help.

I feel bad for BG watching her try to write, because it’s such a struggle for her. A lot of her practice is tracing letters, but she is rarely able to keep her pencil on the dotted line. It blows my mind how I can show her the right way to form a letter and guide her hand over how to make it multiple times, and she does the opposite or something completely different directly after. You wouldn’t think that she had three years of preschool, almost a year of OT, and her mom helping her every day by looking at it, poor kiddo.

The girl’s teacher kept in contact with me over the week, checking in on her. I thought that was really sweet. It means a lot to know you’re leaving your kid in the care of someone that cares about her during the day!

Things are about to get busy again. My husband and Little Man are both doing the Christmas play with our local community theater group, so they’ll be practicing three nights per week. LM wasn’t going to do it at first because his free time is reduced since his school day ends later and he has to go to bed earlier, but the director messaged us and asked and he agreed to do it. He really enjoys acting, so even though it cuts down on his time after school, at least he’ll be having fun.

The girl wanted to sign up for Cub Scouts. She went to the first meeting and decided she hated it for some reason she wouldn’t give us, so that’s out. Her grandmother is relieved, because it gave her a small heart attack that her granddaughter wanted to join something that is supposed to be for boys (even though that group is co-ed).

I did so much of that during our text exchange over Cub Scouts.

We tried to get BG to try another meeting, but she had a meltdown and was sobbing, so we let it go. It would’ve been nice for her to have the opportunity to socialize outside of school, but whatever. The Cub Scout leader gave my husband a form for a popcorn fundraiser at the very first meeting and said we needed to sell $300 worth of stuff, so my husband wasn’t inclined to fight BG over it too much.

Here’s to a good week. Happy Monday 🙂

So Long Tonsils

I talked to Baby Girl’s teacher about things. She said she admired how we advocated for Norah and told me some things she is doing in the classroom to help. She admitted not knowing a lot about autism, but said she is researching strategies to help. She told me her goal is to minimize situations in the class that may be stressful for BG and reduce sensory overload (or meltdowns).

That was good to hear, of course. She also told me that she got an FM system for the girl . I’ve never seen one, but apparently it’s supposed to reduce background noise and deliver the teacher’s voice to BG. She said some kids were curious about it, so she explained what it was and BG seemed happy with it.

The teacher also talked about how they would handle any issues that came up and said that either she or her assistant would take BG to a quiet area to help her calm down while the other stays with the kids. She asked for suggestions for strategies and other changes she could make in the classroom that might help. I’m so happy to hear all of this, because while getting BG through the school day without a meltdown is important, reducing that frustration so she isn’t completely on the verge of one after school is important, too.

Also, the principal said that while she may not get an IEP and be eligible for certain accommodations through the school district, she’ll have a personal education plan for the school itself. It’s a charter school and receives state funding, but they’re able to make their own rules. (Like allowing her to start late if we had chosen to do so and letting her leave early for her therapy appointments.) The district psychologist has no control over that, so I am assuming that FM system was provided that way since she’s technically supposed to haven an IEP to get one. Take that, asshole.

Good stuff.

The girl had her tonsils out yesterday. That poor child seemed like she was on the verge of panic attacks multiple times over the past few days. She was terrified of having the surgery done. She wasn’t worried about pain — that never came up — but the idea of having them removed scared her.

We expected yesterday to be very difficult, but BG was in a good mood when she got up. She didn’t seem too nervous, even when we got to the hospital. After we checked in, a nurse took her back to a room that had the Disney channel playing. We got her dressed in a gown and then the doctor and the anesthesiologist came in to talk to us. When it was time for them to take her back, she didn’t cry, but I sure did when I watched them wheel her away.

We knew the surgery would be quick, but were surprised when the doctor came out half an hour later. I expected him to say something was wrong and they couldn’t remove the tonsils or something, but he said they got him out and she did great. It took longer for her to wake up from the anesthesia than it did for the tonsils to be removed.

When we went back to the recovery room, BG was crying a little. The nurse gave her some water and we rubbed her back. She then asked:

“Where’s my Barbie dream house?”

Um, what?

“What Barbie dream house?” I asked.

“The one I’m supposed to get after surgery.”

“But you don’t even like Barbies. We don’t have a Barbie dream house, sweetie.”

This made her start crying really hard. “But I want my Barbie dream house!” she wailed. I can only imagine how confused we must have looked to the nurses since our daughter, who can’t stand Barbies and other “girl stuff” was crying over a Barbie dream house that she thought she was going to get for some reason.

My husband asked if he should go get a Barbie dream house for her. I looked it up and they cost almost $200, which is half of what we paid for the surgery. I shot that idea down. She did manage to get him to stop by Target and get another gift for her, though.

The doctor said that BG would need a week, maybe two, to recover. After a half hour nap yesterday, she was bouncing off the walls. Same today. You wouldn’t even know she had surgery. I shouldn’t be too surprised since she’s not one to respond to pain much. Even when she had strep throat, she never complained about it hurting. We took her to the doctor because she had a fever and was lethargic and found out that way. Hopefully she continues feeling well and it isn’t a delayed reaction!

The Psychologist From Hell

Ever since BG was diagnosed as being on the spectrum, I’ve done so much reading. Part of that reading includes joining message boards on Facebook and checking out other parents’ experiences with their kids. I’ve seen so many comments about the hell parents dealt with to get accommodations and services for their kids. I felt relieved since we worked with the school in the past to get a 504 Plan for my son, and even though it took longer than I would’ve liked, it wasn’t an awful experience by any means.

And then today happened.

We requested a meeting to discuss a 504 Plan and speech services. LM had speech services at his teacher’s request when he was in second grade (before his 504 Plan was implemented), and I figured it’d be pretty easy to get them for the girl, too, especially since her speech issues are more severe. (I didn’t even realize LM wasn’t pronouncing his S’s right until the teacher told me.)

We expected to meet with the assistant principal (who also helps coordinate student services), the guidance counselor, BG’s teacher, and the school psychologist.

The school principal, a lady who coordinates speech therapy through the district, the school resource teacher, and the lead psychologist for the school district came as well. The school psychologist, who we absolutely loved with LM, wasn’t there. Things got off to a rough start with the lead psychologist (who we’ll call Asshole) asked why we were meeting. I was thinking, dude, there are like nine people in this room and you have no idea why we’re here?

I told him we were there to discuss accommodations for Norah’s ADHD and autism, plus talk about what speech services the school can provide.

“And where are you even getting this stuff?” Asshole asked condescendingly. “Where are you pulling that diagnosis from?”

My husband reminded him that we sent a copy of the report over weeks ago (and frankly, even if it didn’t make it to his desk, he should’ve come into the meeting with an idea of what’s going on). I brought in some extra copies I printed off and slid one over to him. Asshole made a face as if I placed a turd in front of him.

“I don’t want words on paper,” he snapped. “Where are you getting this stuff?”

“We aren’t just getting it from anywhere,” I said. “Following years of behavioral issues and developmental delays, we took BG to a child psychologist, who did a full work-up. Over the course of about a month’s worth of appointments, he did extensive testing and diagnosed BG with Asperger’s, or high functioning autism, and ADHD. He also noted that she has a language delay, sensory processing disorder, and motor skill coordination disorder. All of that is on the report from the psychologist.”

Asshole glanced at it and said, “Well, she might have a clinical diagnosis, but that doesn’t mean anything in a school setting, so I don’t know where you’re pulling this from.”

The speech lady spoke up and suggested we discuss her speech issues. So we did, and she said that BG likely wouldn’t qualify for speech services right now. They prefer to wait until they’re eight to start for the main sounds BG has trouble with. She did say that she would talk with her teacher on reminding BG how to form those sounds. The resource lady asked a lot of questions about her sensory processing and motor skills issues and said she could definitely work with her on that. She said she’d like to get an FM system for BG, too, and that it could deliver the teacher’s voice directly to Norah through headphones and that way she wouldn’t have to deal with so much background noise.

“She has to have an IEP and be a special ed student to go to the resource room,” Asshole interjected. “And I don’t know if we’re going to even evaluate her for an IEP. Maybe we’ll consider a 504 Plan.”

“We didn’t ask for an IEP meeting,” my husband answered. “We wanted her to get a 504 Plan to discuss classroom accommodations and speech.” I added that her teacher was already making the accommodations we wanted, but that it needed to be put in writing to follow her to other classes/grades. The lady over speech services said that she’d have to get an IEP to get formal speech therapy services, and we asked why LM got them without a 504 plan, and she said the speech services LM received were separate from that.

The resource lady asked if BG’s hearing had been tested and said some of the students she’s had before had speech issues because of hearing loss. I told her she was diagnosed with a mild higher frequency loss, but that her audiologist wanted to have her retested after she gets her tonsils out. She asked if there was a history of loss in the family, and I told her about my hearing loss.

I shit you not — Asshole chuckled. “WHAAAAAT?” he said in a loud, slow mocking voice. I’ve heard that mocking voice — the one indicated deaf/hard of hearing people are stupid — far too many times. If looks could kill. No one said anything for a bit until the assistant principal asked BG’s teacher how she did during the fire alarm yesterday, shifting gears back to the sensory processing stuff.

“Fine, no problems,” she said.

“Well, how’d she seem when you picked her up?” Asshole asked me.

“She was fine when I picked her up,” I said.

“I don’t see how there’s a problem with all of this then,” Asshole said.

“Oh wait!” BG’s teacher said. “I’m sorry, but I was wrong. She wasn’t there for the drill. She had already left for her therapy appointments when we did the drill. But I’ll make sure to give her a head’s up so she can put on her headphones next time.”

Asshole shrugged it off. The resource lady asked about meltdowns at home, and we discussed those for a while, with Asshole chiming in saying that these meltdowns are normal for kids in elementary school. Resource lady and the guidance counselor told him that while kids might have tantrums at home after school, that it wasn’t normal for a kid to have multiple meltdowns that get as extreme as hurting others and themselves. More shrugging off. He gave zero fucks.

The meeting lasted an hour. We were so pissed off by the time it was over. Again and again, Asshole made snarky comment after snarky comment. I can’t remember the last time I was around anyone who was so rude and condescending. I could tell he pissed off some of the other people at the table, too, because he was equally dismissive of their concerns or suggestions for helping BG. He also said it’d be easier if she’d just continue with her private therapies. I should’ve asked why he thought a kid with no problems needed private therapies, but I didn’t.

When it was wrapping up, the resource lady asked if she could keep a copy of BG’s evaluation. If she’s anything like the resource lady that I worked with years ago, she’ll probably try to help out BG whether she has an IEP or not. (The resource lady at my old school was an absolute saint and would include the kids whose parents would allow testing since she knew they needed help anyway.) The guidance counselor also asked for a copy.

“You can have this,” Asshole said and tossed it to the other end of the table. “I don’t need it.”

Perfect way to wrap things up.

I don’t get how someone who has never met my child, never heard the first teacher’s report about her, who wouldn’t even look at a psychological evaluation that’s sitting in front of him could just make up his mind and act like that. The lack of professionalism blew my mind.

After we left and discussed how horribly it went with that guy, my husband said he was going to talk to the principal and tell him that under no circumstance should that psychologist have anything to do with evaluating BG. Ultimately, all she needs is a 504 Plan with some accommodations in place, since we can continue taking her to therapies. And I know for a fact that we don’t need Asshole to initiate that. It’d be nice if those therapies were supplemented so she can make progress more quickly, but I’d rather keep things the way they are than have that douche anywhere near her.


On a positive note, I texted BG’s speech therapist yesterday morning about the tonsillectomy and said she’d miss next week. After her appointment yesterday afternoon, she told me she looked at her tonsils and was shocked at how large they are. She said that she’s had some patients in the past who had tonsillectomies that made incredible progress afterwards. She said when the tonsils are so large, it can push the tongue forward and cause speech issues. She said it’s not a guarantee that it’ll help with that too, but to keep our fingers crossed.

It’s amazing how much removing those tonsils could help. It will theoretically make the sleep apnea go away, which means she’ll get a more restful sleep. One of her doctors said that sleep apnea can cause ADHD like symptoms, so maybe those symptoms will improve. I’m sure that being more well rested would reduce her crankiness. And removing them might be able to help with her speech issues. It won’t help much as far as some of the other issues go, but that is still a lot. ❤

She Forgot She Is A Girl

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that I actually wouldn’t mind brewing you a cup today. We had a 3-day cool down, which ends this afternoon, but it was still a crisp 58 degrees this morning. Yesterday the high was 79, and between that and a breeze, it was absolutely glorious. We will return to the high 80s and 90s starting today for lord knows how long, but the reprieve from the heat was much appreciated.

We’ve had a pretty good week. The boy got his progress report on Thursday and had all As and one B. That’s a huge improvement from the three report cards he got in fifth grade (for his school, they only get report cards the last half of fifth grade; the rest of their 5.5 years there, they simply tell us whether they’re meeting expectations or not). Middle school is looking good on him so far.

The girl also got a progress report, and it said she is meeting expectations. We will have a 504 Plan meeting with her school on Tuesday. The VP was supposed to get stuff going on speech and occupational therapy services through the school before the school year started, but we found out that he has done nothing. (No surprise there, I could write a whole post on that guy.) So we’ll talk about that and other possible accommodations. Her teacher hasn’t had any complaints, so there probably won’t be a lot accommodations wise at this point, aside from stuff like preferential seating and using noise-canceling headphones. (She already takes care of that, but I guess it’d be good to get it in writing.) She manages okay until she gets home, and then she lets all of her pent-up frustrations loose.

I have been getting so cracked up at some of the papers BG brings home. Sometimes — mostly with math — she’ll scratch out the problem and write her own and answer that. “I don’t like their yucky questions,” she said. “I want my own problems.”

Here’s an example of one, although this one is more of a misunderstanding. She thought they messed up by not putting anything on the plate when it told her to count the objects and write the number, so she “fixed it.” ❤

The kids have taken an interest in scooters. LM’s friend sends him videos at the skate park, so LM wanted to try with a scooter he got for Christmas a few years ago. And since LM wanted to do it, so did BG. My husband took the kids to a church to scoot around in their parking lot this morning. When they came back, BG ran in and told me she had her very first scar. I asked where it was, and she yanked down her pants and underwear. 

“Look, it’s on my penis!” she informed me. “My very first scar is on my penis!”

Oh boy.

There was no scar. There definitely wasn’t a penis. I reminded her that she is a girl and girls have vulvas, not penises.

“Ohhhh…I forgot that I was a girl for a little while,” she responded.

That child.

We don’t have any big weekend plans. We’re going to a friend’s birthday party tonight, but that’s it. We’re going to take it easy tomorrow, and then we’ll get started on a busy week that will end with BG’s tonsillectomy.

The Boy And His Tics

School is still going great for Little Man (knock on wood!), but I’m worried about him. (I know what you’re thinking — not you!) I don’t know if it’s a nervous tic or what, but he has been picking the skin around his nails until they bleed. The skin picking has been going on for a while now, but has gotten worse. I thought maybe it was anxiety due to starting middle school, but he says he isn’t anxious about school at all. I’m worried he’s going to get an infection if he doesn’t stop. On top of that, y’all know how kids can be. If they notice, he might start catching hell for it.

It has always been something over the years. For a while, he grunted or cleared his throat every few seconds. There has been hand twisting, knuckle cracking, eye blinking. Up until a couple weeks ago, he bit his nails or chewed the skin around his nails nonstop. I bought something from Target that helped stop that, but when he stops one thing, he starts something else. He also licks his lips and above his lips constantly, to the point of leaving red splotches. It used to be that putting aquaphor on it for a couple days would clear it up and he’d stop, but that isn’t helping as much now. As of yesterday, he is doing a thing where he opens his mouth really wide, closes it, and repeats.

My husband took him to get a haircut, and the barber picked up on the mouth and licking things. He discreetly asked my husband if he has Tourette’s. My husband said he didn’t think so, but wasn’t sure why he did that stuff.

We are going to take him to BG’s psychologist and have him evaluated again. LM recently asked us if we thought he was like BG, meaning could he be on the spectrum, too. I told him that he was evaluated for that several years ago and they said he just had ADHD with autistic like traits (but not enough for a diagnosis) then. I mentioned that he does much better socially these days, too. He talked for a while about how he is quiet and watches what the other kids do and then tries to copy their mannerisms and stuff to fit in. That’s what led us to make the appointment with BG’s psychologist. He go on really well with two boys from school last year, and those relationships seemed authentic and not just faking to fit in, but I figure it can’t hurt to have him tested again.

My husband took him for the initial appointment last Friday. That was just to talk to the doctor to see if he thought he should be retested. The doctor said that if the previous provider thought he had autistic traits, that he should have been reevaluated within three years to see what changed, if anything, to be sure. They emailed me the contract for testing services yesterday, and I sent it back, so we’re waiting for them to call to set up appointments for testing. If nothing, we can get to the bottom of what is causing the tics/compulsions/whatever they are.

I was looking around online to see if there are any medications for tics and saw that magnesium can be helpful for that, so I ordered a thing of gummies. If there is any underlying anxiety that he just isn’t aware of, then maybe that’ll calm him down a bit. (If nothing, I guess it’ll keep him regular.) Fingers crossed.

Anxious Kid And Reflux

Baby Girl has been having some reflux issues for the past two or three weeks. She has thrown up during the night twice, she complains about feeling nauseous sometimes after eating or drinking, and she has dry heaved after some of her meals. I had scheduled an appointment with her pediatrician for next week, and the reflux stuff was in full swing on Wednesday. She woke up around midnight and threw up once, and we got her cleaned up and back to sleep in our bed quickly. She dry heaved a little after breakfast that morning, but nothing came out and she seemed fine otherwise, so I took her to school.

BG cried about going to school again, which is par for the course. It didn’t help matters at all when we got to the school and the principal wasn’t out there with his dog. (The dog cuddles make her perk up a lot and then she goes into the building without issue.) She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the dog was missing and nearly had a meltdown. We sat on a bench outside for a while until she calmed down enough to go to class.

The school nurse called around 11:30 saying that BG was throwing up. The nurse said that BG told her she had thrown up that morning, “yet you brought her to school anyway.” I told her that I’d come get her, but tried to explain about her reflux issues, which she wasn’t having. I understand how frustrating it has to be when parents knowingly bring their kids to school sick and get everyone else sick, but that wasn’t the case. I should’ve messaged her teacher about it, though, so that’s on me.

When I got to the school, the nurse brought out BG. She said that BG told her teacher she felt nauseous, so her teacher sent her down. The nurse said that BG threw up twice, but nothing came out. That’s not throwing up and lines up with what I said about reflux, but okay. The nurse said BG didn’t have a fever and that another kid had a virus and was throwing up. I asked if that child had a fever.

“I wouldn’t know. Her parents didn’t bring her to school since she was sick.”

Argh. I again tried explaining about reflux, since those are the symptoms she had before, and that I wouldn’t have brought her to school if I thought she had something viral, but I could tell she thought it was bullshit. I guess I’m now that mom.

As soon as we walked out of the school, BG perked up and asked if I’d take her to Zaxby’s for lunch and get a grilled cheese. Hmm…surely my child wasn’t playing up feeling bad to get out of school, right? I got her a sandwich, but she just picked at it, so probably not. After we got home, I rescheduled the appointment with her pediatrician for the following day. On the off chance she did have something viral on top of the reflux, I wasn’t going take her to school anyway. She did more of the retching with nothing coming out. She took a nap and ate a decent supper, but woke up during the night after legit throwing up again.

When Baby Girl woke up yesterday, she asked if she had to go to school again. “I hate school! I don’t wanna go ever again!” (For the record, she has no specific complaints about school and seems to like her teacher a lot.) I told her she was getting the day off and that we were going to see her doctor, which made her happy. “Yay! I haven’t seen my doctor in a long, long time. I can’t wait!” (She saw her doctor in July for a well check-up, so it hasn’t been that long lol.) She didn’t eat much breakfast again and did a little more dry heaving.

We didn’t have to wait long to see the pediatrician. She chatted with BG for a bit and asked about school. We went over her symptoms, and the doctor said it sounded like reflux to her, too. She said she wants BG to go on a bland diet for a couple of weeks (no problem there, lol) and wants her to take a daily acid reflux pill and Tums or Rolaids as needed. I asked how to get her to take the acid reflux pill, as getting the child to take medicine has been the most challenging part of parenting her. She suggested opening up the capsule and mixing in the contents with a bite of yogurt. I’ve tried mixing medicine with food before and it didn’t work, but hadn’t tried yogurt.

The doctor told us she thought anxiety about school was contributing to BG’s reflux kicking up. Poor kiddo. She said if BG wasn’t significantly improved in a couple of weeks, that she wanted her to have an endoscopy to make sure there wasn’t anything else going on. I told the doctor about the interaction with the school nurse and asked what to do about that, since BG couldn’t very well come home every time she felt nauseous or dry heaved. They get 10 sick days, and she’s going to use five of those for her tonsillectomy next month. The doctor wrote a note to give to the school explaining that BG’s nausea and any throwing up were due to reflux and not anything contagious. She also put her line for the nurse to call if she needed a further explanation about BG’s condition. I’ve talked to BG’s teacher since, and we’re on the same page. I really hate that I didn’t contact her about it sooner and am not sure why I didn’t think of it.

I didn’t send in BG today because she slept awful last night. Her dad let her take a nap in the evening while I was out, and y’all know how that goes. She woke up at midnight and didn’t go asleep again. There was no way she would’ve made it through the day. I tried the yogurt trick this morning and it worked — my daughter actually took medicine without a battle! Huuuuge parenting win. The bigliest. BG seems to feel much better this afternoon. With the long weekend coming up, hopefully a few more doses of that medicine and not letting her eat a few things that could’ve been worsening the reflux will have her back to normal.

I hope BG’s school anxiety will get better soon. Her doctor recommended a book about kids with anxiety, so I’m going to read that and see if I can find something that’ll help with her. I’m going to bring it up to her occupational therapist, who has been working with her on coping skills for different situations. We also have an appointment with a play therapist next month, so if she’s not doing better by then, maybe that therapist will be able to help. Fingers and all the things crossed.