An Alternative SPD Lexicon

June 5, 2011 by in Humor, SPD with 32 Comments

When Pudding was first diagnosed, I had to learn a whole new vocabulary just to understand her therapists.  I thought it would be nice to post a cheat sheet so that we all understand each other, my definitions aren’t exactly standard, but they do describe our life with SPD.  So what does SPD stand for?  Read on.

 

SPD- Sometimes Pretty Demanding.

IEP – Incredibly Enervating Process.

Motor Skills – What we develop as we drive our kids from OT, or PT, or ST, school, social skills groups, doctors, and specialists with reluctant, squabbling children doing their best to distract us.  Requires…

Motor Planning - bringing enough snacks/ juice/ stickers/ fidgets to keep the kids relatively calm for the journey.  Inevitably leads to a…

Gross Motor – how my car looks after all the snacks/ juice/ stickers/ fidgets end up dumped out on the floor.

Sensory Diet – The comfort foods we consume in response to stressful parenting.  Similar to…

Sensory Craving – of cake and chocolate.

Bilateral Coordination – Arranging the conflicting therapy schedules of two children.  For more than two kids: Multilateral Coordnation (also, somebody should give you a medal).

Sensory Avoider – One who leaves the room to let their spouse deal with an impending  meltdown.

Balance - Harmonious blending of work, family, marital and self-care needs.  SPD families don’t tend to have this.

Picky Eater – How the annoying neighbor describes her chubby toddler who won’t eat green beans.  NOTHING like the texture issues of a kid with SPD who eats a total of 4 foods, and they’re all white or yellow.

Interoception - A cool film I never got to see because we can never get a babysitter.  I believe Leonardo Di Caprio starred in it.

Arousal Level - Not what my husband wants it to be.

Hypersensitivity – What makes me want to yell out to complete strangers that it isn’t bad behavior, just sensory overload.  Then realize nobody is even paying attention.

Occupational Therapy – Career counseling to lament that your current profession is unskilled, unpaid, overworked, under-appreciated servant to your household.

Under-responsivity – Not noticing for several days that there is marker pen on the walls, or paint on the carpet.  Associated with lack of sleep.

Space Invader - One who insists upon touching or getting too close to my son.  My daughter.

Expressive Language - Colorful words I’ve spoken at the end of a trying day.  Never in the presence of my echolaic children, or I’d be hearing them spoken back at me for eternity.

Auditory Processing Dysfunction – An explanation of the process whereby my words, “Go and put some more trousers on” are interpreted as “Bounce on the bed, diaper stuffed animals, and return half-naked.”

 

Do you have any alternative definitions you’d like to add?


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Trying to be a Superhero

One of the hardest things we’ve had to deal with as parents has been the separation anxiety of our kids.

Pudding had some terrible times when we would leave, and Cubby’s is much worse.  Mummy can’t even leave to go take a shower without him screaming out for her.  It’s a bit off-putting to be honest, and we always make sure that when we have date-night that the kids are asleep before we leave the house.  There is no need to subject our babysitter to that kind of torment.  (Plus, it keeps people volunteering.)

When Pudding asks for Mummy to put her to bed, I have to deal with the screams and temper tantrums that come from Cubby not getting his mummy.  He will calm down, but not before rattling the windows with his histrionics.  And when I have to put Pudding to bed, I get a lot of the same thing.

The thing is, I know how hard my wife works, and she is always there for the kids when they need her.

When Cubby falls down and hurts himself, she’s the one that picks him back up.  When Pudding needs a glass of milk, Mummy does that too.  That probably has a lot to do with it.  As Pudding says, “Daddy has to go to work.”

However, I have to admit, it’s very terrible sometimes being the one left out.

I always fancied myself as a Superhero, trying to do best for my kids, and that they would appreciate me for it, and want me to be there to comfort and hold them.  Maybe it’s because they’re still small, but I don’t see that happening yet.

It does break my heart when in the middle of the night Pudding cries out and I go only for her to say over and over again: “I want mummy.”  Or when I put Cubby to bed have him cry, “I want mummy-cuddle.”

Instead of Batman, I feel more like Aquaman.  A character that’ll do in a pinch, but not the guy you want to carry the story for long.

I shouldn’t complain.

I still get hugs and kisses from my kids, we play and rough house together, and I know they love me.  It’s just sometimes I wish they’d come to me for help and support instead of bothering their mother, who really needs a break.  I’m sure it’ll happen.

Until then I keep hoping that when Cubby and Pudding have an issue that needs solving, I’ll look to the sky and see the bat-signal waiting for me.  And you better believe I’ll get there as fast as I can.

Hopefully in the Bat-mobile.


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