Foot Mouth Syndrome

Most parents have had experience with the wonderful and very sexy hand foot mouth disease that seems to permeate daycares and preschools across the country, but we are dealing with a very different version of this common ailment in our own household right now.  I’m calling it Foot Mouth Syndrome.  Now don’t be confused, this is also very different from the condition I suffer from on a regular basis, Putting Foot in Mouth Syndrome, this one seems to be on a whole other level so I’m going to break it down for you here. 

The Agony Of Defeat

First the foot, or should I say, the feet!  We have a new saying in our household that Aleck thinks is quite amusing, “the thrill of victory and the agony of dafeet“. Our personal take on this fabulous saying is that we are so thrilled that Aleck is walking so well.  Last week he even started taking the bus without his wheelchair and is now only using the chair for field trips and long distances.  At the school’s book fair the other week we let him run around the bookstore without either one of us trailing behind him to be sure no one knocked him down or he didn’t fall.  It was thrilling, though every time I heard the smallest whimper out of a little one my heart jumped into my throat and since I was manning a table at the fair I had to rely on the lack of his buddies running to find me as a good sign.

So why the “agony” if he’s doing so well on his feet?  Because even after 2 podiatrist appointments, 1 trip to the internist, 3 different creams, powders, ointments, Epson salt soaking, in office cuttingback, at home cutting back, we are still dealing with an infected big toenailon his left foot, his GOOD foot.  And itcycles to looking like it’s healing, to swelling up to almost twice it’s size,to oozing, to healing and back again. Some days when I go to put a Band-Aid on it so it doesn’t stick to hissweaty sock, he starts to whimper while I’m wrapping that bandage around his toewith the gentle touch of a butterfly’s wings, and he’s still kicking atme.  But of course, that’s only the half ofit.  We are still fighting the rash onhis right foot, and I swear when you take his socks off at the end of schoolday you can smell his feet as you walk into the living room, it’s disgusting.  It’s not getting worse, but it’s not gettingbetter, and we now have appointment number 3 scheduled with thepodiatrist.  This will be the lastappointment with this doctor, because if it’s still not fixed we need a new podiatrist.

Mouth Syndrome

Now, onto the mouth and this is interesting because it has nothing to do with what’s going on inside Aleck’s mouth, though he’s got cavities that need to be refilled and getting him to brush properly is, like any other seven-year-old, a real joy and privilege.  But what’s fun about this is what’s coming out of Aleck’s mouth.  Anyone who has spent significant time with our little guy knows that he LOVES to talk, and clearly he comes by that naturally on both sides of the family.  One of his favorite things to do is to add more facts and more information to any story or explanation of any concept that an adult might be presenting to him.  He wants to be sure he really gets it, he wants to put it into his own words, and if can add his own two cents into the situation, he loves it all even more.  This is why Craig wasn’t nearly as shocked as I was about the email we got from his occupational therapist at school. 

I opened my inbox one afternoon to see an email from her explaining that when Aleck went to grab her badge that was hanging around her neck, she told him that he needed to stop that because he could choke her.  He answered, “I could also choke you with my hand.”  Now when I read this I was half convinced that I have a mini sociopath living in my house so I immediately flipped her an, “I’m so embarrassed, we will deal with this appropriately, etc.” email.  When Craig read it he was like, so what, that’s just Aleck.  I decided to send it on to the guidance counselor who called me and had the exact same reaction Craig did.  She explained how therapists who aren’t used to this level of behavior don’t understand that Aleck didn’t mean to threaten her, he wasn’t telling her what he was going to do to her, he was just interjecting additional information to the conversation.  Aleck got a serious talk when he came home. During the talk he corrected me when I said “choke you with my hands” that it was only one hand he called out, not two. That’s how totally innocent he thought the comment was.  Either way, we felt like we had to do something so we revoked his tech privileges for that day.  He hung his head so low I thought I was going to sink into the ground.

The next week Craig and I are sitting outside, taking in the last bits of sunshine before winter hit, and his phone rang.  I heard him laughing and shaking his head a bunch, saying things like, “yeah, no, he gets like one sip at Shabbat and occasionally a sip at dinner at home, but yeah, that’s it.”  Huh? It was Aleck’s physical therapist at school.  Apparently, Aleck had told her that his parents let him drink, not just apple juice or grape juice, but alcohol; wine, beer, cocktails, etc.  Lucky for us this woman knows our old favorite PT from Early Intervention and knows all about our family, so she was calling to warn us to talk to him about this before he said it to the wrong person who doesn’t know us or our family.  I mean, yes, we give him a sip of red kiddish wine, Maneshevitz – Black Label, on Friday nights when we are celebrating Shabbat. So when Aleck got home that afternoon we explained that we don’t let him “drink alcohol”, we aren’t setting pint glasses or glasses filled with vodka in front of him, dropping in his straw, and telling him to “drink up.”  He thought that image was very funny. But we warned him that if someone gets the wrong idea we could get in a lot of trouble, and that wasn’t quite as funny.

The aide on Aleck’s bus seems to think it’s her responsibility to keep tabs on Aleck, report to us when he’s not behaving.  So last week she told us that he was mouthing off to his aide at school and telling him to“bite my biscuits” even after the aide had repeatedly asked Aleck to stop.  This time he got another, longer, serious talk.  What we figured out is that he picked up the phrase from his Big Nate books (which I can’t stand), and was trying it out on his aide.  He had no idea what it all really meant.  When we told him that it was an insult and not a nice thing to say his face turned so far down I thought he was going to tunnel through the floor, and then he ran into his room, slammed his door shouting that we weren’t allowed in, and buried his face in his bed.   This time we did not punish him, he pouted for the rest of the afternoon he was so despondent. 

What’s funny is that none of this is so unique; there are a ton of kids like Aleck who do and say these kinds of things.  They are experimenting with their language, they want to be a part of every single conversation, and they don’t see anything wrong in asking an adult point-blank questions, face to face, as if they are peers.  Because in Aleck’s mind, he’s on par with an adult.  He’s been on the same level as grownups since he started therapy and they bent down on the ground to work with him, on his level. That’s how you inspire kids to work on their delays, that’s how you talk to children who have forged more relationships with adults than with kids their own age over the course of their lifetime. You speak to them as if they are on your level as if they are adults, and that’s how they speak.  They don’t know any better.  So please, don’t take it personally when Aleck looks up at you and casually asks you why you are there, or why you are doing the things you are doing.  And please don’t be upset if he shortens your name to a Mr. B because he can’t pronounce your first name but still wants to show you some respect.  He can’t help it, he’s got Mouth syndrome, and so does every child who’s spent their childhood surrounded by medical professionals.  They aren’t rude they just aren’t timid.  They aren’t intimidated by your age or your size, by your profession or your position; they simply know that they have the right to speak to you person to person.  Some grownups don’t learn that ever in their lifetime.