Family Work

The family I'm working with is so great; I love the children already.

#1: Henry is a 10 1/2 year-old, very obedient, very mature-for-his-age kid. At the Memorial Day pool-party on Monday, he got his little brother Andrew all set up at the karaoke microphone and told him how to announce that "the brothers" were going to sing a song. Then he proceeded to play air guitar while he and Andrew did a duet. At dinner this evening, he wanted to compare whether his or Ellen's feet were dirtier. A slight look from me in his direction prompted him to modify his plan to "when we're away from the dinner table."

#2: Andrew is a 9 year-old, very physically handicapped child with cerebral palsy, spastic quadriplegia. He is fully functioning cognitively, though, which is a great blessing for him and his family. He gets around in a power wheelchair that he controls with a joystick. He loves music, especially Louis Armstrong and Frank Sinatra. His newest "kick," though, is the soundtrack from the SpongeBob Squarepants movie (which his mother does NOT love!). He is a sweetheart, always wanting to show me something or tell me a story or sing me a song.

#3: Ellen is a 5 year-old pistol; picture Shirley Temple without the curls. And twice the script! The things that come out of her mouth...are all hilarious. I love the fact that no matter what she's saying, though, her mother responds in all seriousness. I gave her a bath this evening. I had to lean pretty far over the edge of the tub to scrub her hair with shampoo.
"I can see your bra," she informed me.
"Oh, sorry!" I said, adjusting my shirt with wet hands, so that now I had wet shoulder seams and a wet spot on the back of my shirt.
Later on in the bath, she said, "I can see your bra again!" At this point, I was holding her under the shoulders with one hand as she lay on her back, and rinsing shampoo out of her hair with my other hand.
"Well, ...don't look, ok?!" I told her.
"I'm LOOOOK-inggg!" she sang.
"Huuuh!" I said, again getting my shirt wet with the adjusting technique, one hand at a time.
"That's good," she said.

These kids' parents are great. They're from Ohio, and John works both from the house and on the road for Cingular. Their mother, Kris, stays at home, and just adores her children. The house has had so much work put into it in the 3 years they've been in Connecticut, to accommodate Andrew. The discipline is straighforward and hardfast. "1--2---3! Ok, sorry, no dessert!" And love is expressed without bounds among all members: "Ellen! That is an awesome birthday card. You are the BEST. Poppy is going to love it when he gets it in the mail on Saturday." They don't let their kids watch the Simpsons, which says a lot for this day and age.
"Why not? Does it have bad words in it?" Ellen asked. "Do they say stupid ?"
I love it!!

They're a very "open family" to term it sociologically. I can't give a purely sociological explanation for that, though. Partly because they're from the mid-west, partly because they've had to explore so many resources for Andrew, partly because they're just like that?

"We don't have first impressions in this house," Henry told me matter-of-factly at dinner. "We'll just keep on surprising you."

"Can I just say 'poop'?" Kris asked me during our verbal run-through of Andrew's toilet routine, after she had used the word "defecate" with a look of mock propriety.

I was able to watch Andrew have his OT (Occupational Therapy) session today. Rob, his OT, came to the house when I did, and I just asked him to tell me what he was doing. I've already learned quite a bit from that one hour.

After only yesterday and today with this family, Andrew asked if I could lie in bed with him for a while before he fell asleep. I couldn't believe the innocent trust he gave me so immediately and completely, just because I'm the new care-giver that Mom brought into the house. Kris told him that since I have a cold, we'll wait on that. But I felt so accepted into the family, just by his asking her. I went in and gave him a kiss goodnight, though, and he asked me if I was coming again tomorrow.

And they're paying me to do this?