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We saw the CFS team yesterday who were lovely (and not too airyfairyhappyclappycaringandsincere either), and very positive. It was a Q&A form-filling session for them to understand the background and where Cam is right now – and really I learned as much from him as them.

He was being very honest and a few things came out which I didn’t know about. He was very tearful and emotional at one point too, which was a bit upsetting. It was all a bit of an eye opener, actually.

I certainly didn’t expect lines like “I HAVE to get back to school. I HAVE to. It’s SATS this year, and I HAVE to do really well, and get good grades, because they stay on my record and affect everything at high school”.

WTF????

Followed by
“and what happens if you don’t get good grades No.1? Do you get upset?”

“Yes! I get really frustrated and angry at myself.” (tears now sparking in eyes, the I’m-upset rash appearing on forehead).

Where the hell did the whole stress about grades come from?

He had to grade his own energy levels throughout the day on a 1-10 score, which was interesting, and it became very apparent that his mood/energy is closely linked to food – which she’s referring back to consultant about, so maybe another school of investigation there.

BUT

On the whole, it was very positive and helpful. He has taken from the whole thing that his mood is linked to his energy levels, and if he tries to be cheerful, it will help him get better quicker.

Also, he’s back to school Tues & Thurs, just till morning break.

SOOOO excited about that!

Sensible nice lady, didn’t talk down to No.1, picked up very quickly when he was upset (tissues were discretely placed) and also when his attention had disappeared (I was a bit shocked at the marked definition when his attention span had reached its limits).

Lots of useful understanding came out of it, and next session (10 days time) we go through another detailed Q&A session about his activity, and from there can plan the rehab. The trick is to level his daytime energy score to a steady flat line (currently boom-and-bust in a 4-6-3-7-0 line), and then build up strength and activity.

So all good. And No.1 seems very very positive – I think he appreciated just being taken seriously, and feeling like people are helping, and that things CAN be done to make him better. He also aparently felt there was no cure for how he felt, and he’d feel this way forever and ever.

And going back to school is a MASSIVE incentive – he’s been so very very low since Monday, and have been concerned it was a quick backwards slide, so no matter  how little time he can manage before he switches off, I want him going in and mixing with friends/teacher/normal life.

Was uber organised for a change this morning – first time in years my children have had full, clean and fitting PE kit packed and ready to go for first day of term!
Jolly and Boy bowled in, very excited, pleased to be back.

No.1 accompanied me on school run – but suddenly painfully shy and bashful and nervous in the playground, refused to approach old classmates. And yet he is desperate to be back at school… and brain-eatingly jealous of his brothers in their uniforms this morning.

School tomorrow. Boy and Jolly beside themselves, absolutely cannot wait.

No.1 is finding it tough emotionally – watching them, knowing what they’re going back to, not being able to do the same.

And I am so sad he’s not going – it’s the first day of Yr6, his chance to strut his stuff and be a king of the playground.

Sigh.

Consultant tomorrow afternoon, and then CFS team first appointment on Thursday.

Friday I have an appointment to speak on the phone to schools doctor re. home tutoring.

He’s dipped a bit the last few days – nothing like he was at the start of the holidays, but a little less sunny, a little more uncomfortable. We have wondered if is coinciding with return to school for a reason – C thinks he feels the need to validate himself as ‘sick’, especially as his glands are still small (thank gawd, he actually has a proper neck shape for the first time in about 6mths, instead of a thick trunk going from ears to shoulders) and not painful, which his usual first symptom.

But I am also aware that I am inclined to think he’s a drama queen, and sometimes I need to step back and just believe him, rather than being unsympathetic and dubious.

On the upside, we went swimming today – he probably did a little too much but he’s just ‘a bit sick and uncomfortable’ – at the start of the holidays half as much swimming would have had him curled in a ball crying by this time of night.

So muchos improvement, really, in the grand scheme of things.

Finally decided to go and see Jollys teacher again, and actually ask whether Jolly was bright, lazy and bored; or else a pain in the arse with attention span issues (my exact words).
After snorting her coffee all over her desk, she agreed he is very bright, they have him pegged to watch and she admitted in a whisper (her classroom is next door to the office, the door was open and the head was in the office) that Jolly is one of the two pretty-darn-clever ones at the top of the class. That he always has extension work, they always stretch him, they always expect more from him… If only they could get down on paper what they know is in his head. He’s impossible to assess cos he’s very difficult to get to work consistently.

She said ‘we’re gradually working our way through our arsenal of tactics. We were sure sitting him next to the very clever girl he’s matched with intellectually would fire up the boys competitive streak, and make him match her (a teacher-tactic that works like a charm with No.1, I realise). But Jolly just sits back in genuine pride and admiration at how well the girl works and how much she achieves.

She has him working in a group, knowing he has brilliant ideas and suggestions – and he merrily sits back and admires everyone else’s ideas and complies, because he’s too self-effacing to put his own forward as quite possibly better.

He floats along on his little pink cloud, so laid back he’s horizontal. He’s adorable in class, but too woolly, and they haven’t yet found his trigger. Every now and then he pays attention and zap, he’s showing them he’s as sharp as anything. But half an hour later he’s drifted off out the window again (except when he’s drawing, which absorbs him utterly to the point where he forgets to write anything to go with it).
So – we probably have to wait for him to simply not be 6 any more, but in the meantime are very reassured that they have him pegged (oh so well), we are not having parental delusions and he is very bright, and all will come in the fullness of time.

This of course led to much parental angst, wondering if he’s so used to being squashed and least-important with two older brothers with very strong personalities who lead all the time and treat him as the little tagalong that he has no sense of how clever and good his own brain is. Sigh.

Took No.1 to the docs this afternoon – day 2 off school, about the FIFTH time since Christmas, all with random glands-like-golfballs in his neck. 24 hrs usually does it, but this time it’s lurking – and yet no temp or green ick on the throat to suggest an infection like I would expect. GP was concerned by the glands (in armpits, stomach, and arms too) and has treated with penicillin and swabbed his throat cos she suspects it may be a deep-seated strep infection (in which case he may be headed for tonsils out), but she thinks it possible it could be glandular fever… Exact same scenario we had at the same point last year…

Boy has worms (oh, so does No.1), but I have actually managed to clear Jolly of lice. Temporarily, anyway. At least long enough to have his hair chopped super-short, which will help. No.1 also has 4 verrucas which keep growing despite much large doses of Thuja and painting. Tonight I caved and bought the expensive freeze-em treatment – poor lamb, they’re big and they hurt him so I thought it was best (seeing as doc refused to treat them 2 weeks ago and said ‘well, they drop off in about 6mths”). But the freeze treatment made him really really properly cry tonight… I only managed to treat 3 of the 4, he’s promised to sit for the other one tomorrow , literaly begged me no more tonight. :(

Oh, and Pink is constipated again. Tried her with prune juice – “Yuck mummy! Yuck! Yukyukyuk!!! No, nonono. YUCK!”

Don’t think she liked them much.

I’d quite like a day off, actually.

Jolly came out of school last Friday looking very sad.

“had a good day Jolly?”
Big sigh
“not really, Mummy, no”.
Knowing he’s prone to these little dramatic moments I squeezed him sympathetically, but didn’t ask him to elaborate – knew the whole story would come in the fullness of an elaborate he said/she said story time.
Enter big brother No.1 stage left (well, playground left, but don’t be picky and spoil the narrative)
“hey, Jolly, you okay?” BIG squeezy (though slightly macho) cuddle.

Shocked Mumma. My boys do NOT cuddle in the playground. Ever. On pain of dismemberment does anyone attempt physical displays of affection with No.1 in public.
Eyes popping, I shepherd them out the playground and start gently probing (Gestapo fashion). Twould appear that No.1 spotted Jolly being hit by Toby P. He waded in and stopped proceedings (in his best school mediator I’m-a-professional voice, I suspect). Lunch time play comes round, and No.1 keeps an eye out for Jolly. Spots him – and Toby P has recruited help to hold the strong and fighting-back Jollyster still so he can hit him properly. No.1 forgets his School Mediator training and wades in in best big brother mode (YAY! Go No.1!), taking two Yr 6 pals with him (YAY pals!).
At first I admittedly suspected it was typical boys stuff, and that Jolly probably gave more than he got verbally before fists started flying… But asked Jolly about it a little more while he was in the bath, and it transpires this is nothing unusual – Toby P hits him or calls him names or throws things at him or whacks him most days.

WHAT?

When asked why he didn’t tell us, he replied ‘well, it’s just what happens, mummy”.

Mildly baffled as to why it wouldn’t, it being a normal course of events. Grrrrrowllllll.

Bloody Toby P lives within spitting distance of us, and was very tempted all weekend to go round and slap him up the side of the head.
But didn’t.
I decided that the time was ripe for acting like a grown up, being mature and resposnibel and doing the right thing. Yes, you guessed it – a Parent/Teacher conference no less.

So I went see Mrs Pad after school Monday (his teachers job-share, she’s on duty Mon-Wed, so had no clue about Friday). Mrs Pad reacted in suitable horror and sadness, and promised it would stop.

Now.

No more.

And I believed her too, cos she’s lovely and young-ish and fiercely protective of her class.

So – not a peep from Toby P since Monday – only 7 other boys in his class of 25, so not many too choose from to play with, and I did wonder if there would be repercussions.