July 2014

In the midst of emotions while writing “Lex at a New School, Mum and Dad Cry,” as soon as I posted the blog, I immediately recognized I missed an opportunity to say thank you. That thanks is to an incredible group of people – the team at Excelerate, where Lex has been schooling for the last couple of years. Pika, Jo, Shermic, Suresh and Teacher Hanam. What a magical, loving, beautiful group of people. Pika and Jo run the school, but I was always struck by a conversation I had with Pika about why she started the school a decade ago. Beginning her career as a speech therapist, she told me she was completely frustrated by the lack of a holistic approach to kids dealing with various challenges. Some enlightened thinking at last. If I defined Excelerate from my own experience, I’d say it’s a place with world-class therapists and teachers, who bring no judgment to their students, and instead have one thing in common – a singular focus to help their kids overcome and thrive – addressing whatever needs to be tackled along the way. No unnecessary labels, no exclusion, just hard work and dedication. What they achieved with Lex has been superb and showed us that he is going to be OK! We found Excelerate accidentally, which was super lucky, because we were running out of options back then. However, from the minute we met them, we knew this was the place, these are the people who can help Lex right now, this was it. And they have – with so much love it’s been incredible. We’ll all miss them. But more than that, they’ve helped Steve and I. When we went into doubt, they helped us find our hope again. When we felt lost, they gave us strength to find the way back. And most importantly, in the last year when we’ve been trying to find a new school for Lex, they’ve been there to help us through the rejections again and again. Oh those rejections. May we never have to endure that shit again. I don’t think my heart could do another! When we speak to other parents of children with a need-for-now or a long-term-need, all of them relate to the feelings we go through on a daily basis, because they have those feelings too. All of us understand how it feels to have our child rejected. All of us have dealt with so called professionals with zero compassion and insight. All of us have dealt with people wanting to classify our child so it makes it easier for them – screw whether it’s right or not. All of us have had to deal with the subtle criticism by family and friends. All of us parents with kids outside the “normal” zone – whatever that means – know what it’s like, and we hurt a lot. Pika, Jo, Shermic, Suresh and Teacher Hanam know this too. They live it with the parents every day. The team at Excelerate got Lex caught up and on track, and we could not have done it without them. I know that many people around the world, who’ve been commenting on my blogs about their own experiences with speech delayed kids, don’t have the benefit of a team like this. But I wish every town and every city had an Excelerate to help them through. Unfortunately many don’t have anything. But if you are in Singapore and your little one is showing some signs of a struggle, I could not recommend a school more. Check them out. You’ll never look back. And Team Excelerate – thank you thank you thank you. We can never express our gratitude enough. With love and without the bollocks Andrea, Steve, Lex and Jax xxxxx

Lex started at his new school this week and by all accounts, it’s been a smooth start. Called the International Integrated School, it is both a mainstream school with an excellent support programme. IIS wasn’t our first choice. We desperately wanted Lex to go to the same school as his brother, but until his speech is 100 per cent there – and we’re dealing with an enunciation issue now – the “normal” schools won’t take him. Lex was super-excited to be wearing a uniform On the journey to yesterday, we struggled with many more rejections – something we’ve never mastered and know we never will – but he’s in the right place now and that is all that matters. The only important thing is for Lex to be in a school that nurtures, loves and supports him, based on who he is and where he is right now. Not being able to speak like all of the other kids would’ve made him a potential target for ridicule, and that is something we’re glad to avoid. He’s a sensitive soul and struggles if he thinks he’s being laughed at – who doesn’t? So all in all, it’s a very good thing. Because of the speech challenge, Lex is behind academically. The reason? If you can’t understand what someone is saying to you, you can’t learn to read, write, etc.. So we’ve had to accept that he’s about a year behind and catching up fast. His academic achievements have vastly improved this year, because he has made the conscious decision that HE is ready to embrace academic life. Little bugger. As such, he might catch up to his year group, or he will be in the same year as his brother. I struggled with that idea, because I really wanted them to have their own space, but then I thought – who bloody cares in the long run, as long as he’s OK? I mean they’re only 15 months apart after all. So yesterday, Steve and I took him for his first day of school. Lex was cool as a cucumber until we got to the front door, then he wrapped himself around my legs but still moved forward. With no stress at all, he put on a brave face and went in to the class room. We were very proud of him, as we are of both our courageous boys. A quality we admire in both of their spirits. Thankfully, Lex was greeted with love and smiles, they took him around the classroom, he found his cubby hole, put his bag away, started working the room out, sat down and that was it. Mum and Dad, on the other hand, stood outside the class room, where Mum burst into tears while trying to hide it from everyone (didn’t work) and Dad quickly followed suit. Awesome! We were a bloody mess. Since that brief outburst I’ve been thinking why? Are we unhappy with where he is going? No. It’s not where we wanted, but it’s right for him, so that’s not it. Do we feel that Lex is moving to a new stage in his life and mourning earlier days? While many parents may feel like that, we DEFINITELY do not! Progress is good. Going back not so good. So what is it? What made us emotional? It has to be the fact that Lex is FINALLY on the road to a very normal mischievous boys’ life. He’s getting an awesome education, his speech is almost 100 per cent, everything we’ve ever said about him has been right – love and patience were the only requirements (as well as a lot of speech therapy) – and we can see an end to a very grueling five years of worry, other’s judgments, misunderstandings, rejections, angst, and well, a whole lot more. It’s been really shit. That’s why we cried. It’s done. Our little lad is going to be A-OK! Fucken bloody KIDS!!! Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

When flying into Bali last week, I had the pleasure of sitting with both boys, constantly asking “are we there yet?” Now it’s only a couple of hours by plane from Singapore to Bali, so it’s not a long way to go, but obviously, it got me thinking about my own childhood. As you might have read in a previous blog – “The Datsun is Back” – when we asked “are we there yet?” 1. No one could hear us, and 2. We were suffering spine crushing pain and had a very good reason to be where we were going. Equally, we were regularly in the car for at least three hours, because, let’s face it, Australia is a big bloody place. My boys have not had to suffer too much car pain, as driving around Singapore just doesn’t require the same level of time commitment. As our holiday in Bali progressed, we had a few more “long” drives, heading out to explore the Island. We saw some awesome stuff and experienced the true beauty of the Balinese people – seriously, if you haven’t been to Bali, go – especially if you have kids. They love kids – even mine. But every trip seemed like torture for my kids, with them moaning and carrying on all the way – “are we there yet?” Or “It’s been so long Mummy, how much longer…” after about 10 minutes. OK boys, I get it, you’re not used to sitting in a car and have no capacity to appreciate watching life go by yet. You’ll get there. I love nothing more than watching life and taking it all in. Although that’s hard to do with moaning children for company, and obviously why my Dad bought the Datsun – a smart man. Some days were really hard for Steve and I. We’re working really hard to give our boys sensational experiences – far beyond what we both had as kids. We want them to be more worldly aware, more international, and incapable of hating another person for the color of their skin or the beliefs they hold dear. We think the world can be a better place if we achieve that, which is our ultimate goal. In the last 12 months, these little guys have been in five countries, but it appears they’re just not old enough to appreciate the experiences – yet. Maybe one day. I would’ve killed for the stuff we’re doing when I was a kid, but for them it’s boring, or taking too long, or can we get a toy now, or, or, or. It kills us. Especially when they get to see beautiful vistas like this Or life in all it’s beauty Or nature at it’s draw dropping best Or mythological performances Or just a lot of bloody fun Or a private Gamelan lesson with Putu Or just hours and hours exploring the beach with Aunty Vick and Finley When my frustration with them builds, I have to check myself, because I know if this was my journey as a kid – no matter how much I believe otherwise – I would’ve also said “are we there yet?” and been a massive, ungrateful pain in my parents’ arse. It just seems to be how kids are built. One day I hope my kids say Mum and Dad, our childhood was awesome, thanks! Hopefully they won’t have to spend years in a psychiatrists chair before they realize that. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

We had a big week in our house… well our wee pussy cats did. Luther and Riddick were both neutered. Poor little poppets, although 24 hours after the operation they were slipping and sliding around the apartment as always. Luther’s furry feet!  Well Luther is more the slippery slider because he has fur growing through his paws. I’ve never seen that before and it’s definitely not an ideal area for hair growth, with Singapore homes predominantly featuring marble floors. We’ll have to keep him trimmed to ensure adequate traction. But I digress. We were never torn about the need to de-sex the cats – it was the right thing to do, for them and us – however if it turned out Riddick was already pregnant, then we were really torn. Steve kept asking me what should we do and I kept saying: “I can’t say yes let’s terminate them.” So we agreed, if she was pregnant, we would keep them and find good homes for them, probably having to keep one. The boys would have LOVED that and I would’ve liked giving them that experience. Fortunately (or unfortunately) she wasn’t pregnant, so it was full steam ahead on the operation, but before that, Steve drove me to work with Lex and the cats. The plan was to drop me and then go to the vet. As we were getting closer to the office, I decided to tell Lex what was going to happen. I always tell the boys the truth – in a way that makes sense to them – because I think it’s important. It’s not always easy, because the truth can be more upsetting than a kiddie lie, but they deserve to know. So I said: “Mate, the cats are going to have an operation today with the animal doctor, so when they come home, we have to take special care of them because they’ll have big ouchies. Riddick will have a big cut in her tummy and Luther will have his seeds removed.” As background, for some reason, the boys call testicles seeds. I’m not sure where it comes from, but it’s better than nuts I suppose. Anyhoo, Lex had tears streaming down his face and said: “No Mummy we can’t take Luther’s seeds. How will he do a wee?” “We’re not cutting his doodle off love, just his seeds, and this will mean he can’t make any baby pussycats with Riddick.” Again for background info, penis in our house goes by the name of “doodle” for those not in the know. Riddick in post-op slumber Well that really got the water-works going, because both boys are desperate for Riddick to be a Mummy and Luther to be the Daddy. They’re gagging for another tiny pussy cat, and if they had their way, we’d have 15 cats in the house. Alas I’m too young to be a cat lady. Maybe one day. Steve and I turned up at the vets to collect the cats later that evening, both soppy as hell that our little loves were hurting. I’m not sure what the vet said because my heart was aching too much to pay attention. Thankfully the cats are back to their rambunctious selves and the boys are back to their rambunctious treatment of the cats. It took a bit of time to re-bond though – the boys were horrified by the cats’ wounds and kept well away from them for a couple of days. That was an awesome outcome in the recovery process. They’re still not quite getting the fact that kittens are no longer possible. We’ll keep talking to them, trying to explain that it can’t happen anymore, and they’ll keep nagging us for more cats, dogs, bunny rabbits, hamsters, fish… and the list goes on. At least we’re not going to have a male cat spraying in the apartment. That is a smell I could not cope with! Yours, without the bollocks Andrea