Hello, I am a little boy who only sees right with his heart...
Which doesn't make my parent's daily life any easier. So I'm blind and different (mentally speaking).
This blog was born in french during autumn 2003 and is now progressively being translated in your language.
New articles will therefore appear on a regular basis.
DISCLAIMER
... my apologies to the people who hadn't understood this yet, all articles on this website are created and written by myself (his dad).
Lou is currently unable to do it,, just like he is to this day unable to grasp the concept of a "computer", "internet", or to focus for a long period of time on a conversation. Only time will tell us if we manage to integrate him completely in the world in which he lives.
Therefore all stories, despite relating actual facts, are obviously biased by my interpretation of his behavior. But having known him for over five years, I don't think I'm getting it wrong.
Thank you to the "Roi Baudoin" foundation ( "Parcours hors pistes" ). The new design, hosting and translations were partially made possible by their financial support.
Many thanks to Marco Pappalardo et Laetitia Bouet for the translation.
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monday 30 may 2005
99. I'm scared ...
(or how to take advantage of the situation)
Ok, once more I must admit I really pushed it. A whole series of things rightfully scare me. You don't even need to be blind to be scared ... whether of heights, of the unknown, of the future, or just anything that you need to do and which reminds you of a bad experience.
So logically I have fears ... and probably a few more than other persons. Such as for example pooping... It's related both to the possibility of hard feces (it happens) and ... the evacuation of a part of myself. It is said to be a normal stage in childhood, but it's easier to get over it when you can see that "little part of yourself" go away down the toilet (which is not the case for me).
I finally figured out the power of those magic words : " I'm scared " which immediatelytrigger a reaction of sympathy and I tend to abuse it. Maybe that's even why my schoolteacher,daddy, and mommy end up slightly making fun of me or teasing me when I'm obviously abusing it. If that keeps happening I'll have to find another trick to avoid doing what I don't feel like doing, or at least delay doing it !
(P.S.: that's me on the picture, still in my potty era, together with my elephant who
repeats everything I say.)
(or how to change the subject of the conversation)
I'm a smart guy. When I do something wrong and I'm being yelled at (and being called by my first name), I fix it by telling them to talk to Little Dog Courage about that problem ! So two days ago I forgot to ask to go to the restroom to pee. About that, I should say I'm almost "clean" : except for a few accidents, I ask to go to the restroom like a big boy. Even the potty, like on the picture, is history. At night, it's still a bit complicated for me. So I still wear a diaper to sleep. I have to say my nasty diabetes doesn't make it easier (without medication my body doesn't retain water, which comes out of me almost as quickly as it got in). So I need 0.05 ml of a drug injected through my nose with a tiny tube / measuring cap, morning and evening, which is transmitted to my organism through the mucous membranes of my nose. A simple cold or a sneeze within 5 minutes of the injection and the drug doesn't workproperly (or not at all), and then (about eight hours later) I turn into a clone of the Manneken Pis (note : famous statue in Brussels of a boy urinating) ! But myself and my parents are well used to all this : every morning starts with the "little tube" like a ritual, a habit...
As you may have noticed, my reactions are very impulsive during my social interactions with people. If we click, they are automatically integrated in my verbal anthology, according to my mood at the time. Actually, with me, the trick is to just go for it, but without rushing me : just build a bridge to my little universe. After that it's a piece of cake !
An example ? This summer, while on vacation in the Southern France, Red (who's a very close friend of daddy and mommy) joined us for a few days.
Since about ten days ago, two new characters made their appearence in my monologues and other stories I make up.
The thing is as soon as I'm left unattended, I seize the chance to talk to myself. I create stories with the words going through my mind and the main characters in my life, including fictional characters. It's usually far from being logical and structured, and I tend to frequently skip from one subject to the other.
On top of it, every time I make up stories I do it like comedians reading stories on tape or on CD : I change my voice according to the character I'm playing ( just like Marlene Jobert reading "Goldilocks" ). In short I constantly change the tone of my voice with every character, and since I sometimes mumble, it becomes kind of hard to follow !
So trying to figure out which characters are real and which ones are fictional can be a real brain teaser for my parents.
In the country where I live, there are 3 official languages. So starting from age 9 kids pick a second language at school. Including my sister Eva since the beginning of this schoolyear. She came home singing songs in Dutch ... I was immediately hooked once my parents explained to me that it was another language, like English. It didn't take more for me to start imitating Eva or asking daddy to speak in Dutch. Since he knows some basics, hij heeft mij in vlaams beantwoorden ( ...erm... ) (he replied
in Dutch). I burst into laughter.
Since then, and especially during these holidays in the Ardennes, I regularly ask daddy to speak to me in Dutch. And I imitate him in a funny way, such as "ay, oy, oy, oy, oy" (because many words in that language "sound" a bit like "ay" or "hey" in English).
The picture is from one of those meals where daddy imitates me when I'm speaking Dutch. Needless to say I love it !
Note : Dear reader, please don't interpret any part of this article as making fun of my Dutch friends !
Another thing I love about the house in the Ardennes is the huge fireplace. Even if I can't see it, I love walking from the couch towards the fire and stopping right before the hearth (... under close scrutiny from my parents). I then carefully extend my little hands, slightly lean forward, and turn my head sideways to feel the warmth on my cheeks. It looks like I'm listening to the fire. Which I also do. I was even probably initially attracted to the fire because of the noise. A noisy heatsource ... now there's something strange and interesting. Unlike radiators or gas heaters, you can really a fire live ! As a matter of fact that's precisely why I love the radiator in my room in the country house (note : it's never properly drained!). It constantly sounds like a small stream. I even learned to operate the valve so I can make it stop or, on the contrary, let it run.
My great uncle, whom I've never known and who owns the house in the Ardennes, was a very literate man who, besides his own job, knew a lot about nature : botanist, beekeeper, fisherman, mycologist (specialist of mushrooms), and hunter ... That's why the house is filled with hunting trophys : ranging from wildboar heads, roe deer heads, a fox and some raptors - all stuffed - to the countless deer antlers, roe deers, ibexes, onyx, etc... It's not really daddy and mommy's cup of tea, but it does contribute to the charm and the personality of the house. The upside though is that thanks to these animals they can make me touch a "real" boar, a "real" roe deer, a fox, an owl, a sparrowhawk..., all these animals I would otherwise never be able to "see" in my own way, that is, by touching them. I would probably surprise you if I told you I gladfully accept this kind of tactile discovery. Well ... I won't surprise you ... But daddy and mommy are taking it one step at a time. Besides we have plenty of time : those animals aren't exactly going to run away ...
But the ONE thing that sealed our friendship was the old couch with springs. I love jumping and bouncing on the couches of the country house ( back home they don't bounce ). So it became one of my favorite games over there. I started jumping on the couch yelling " Bam in the couch, bam in the couch !" And soon enough Coline joined me. So we jumped and sang that little tune for an hour at least, laughing as hard as we could. You can imagine how excited we were, especially since I've pretty much mastered said couch : I can jump as high as 30 or 40 centimeters (1 to 1.3 feet), and once I've jumped high enough I leap back in the couch. In the evening, when she left, you could've scraped me off the floor. Dead, exhausted, but also extremely excited !
In conclusion, meeting Coline was heaps of fun and we'll certainly see each other again, even if she lives far away.
Since my mommy and Coline's mommy share the same first name, I made fun of this homonymy with her and that broke the ice between us. We both started calling our own mother : Me : "Mommy Claire ?" My mommy : "Yes ?" Coline : "Mommy Claire ?" Her mommy : "Yes ?" ... and so on, for our greates amusement !
Then our parents wanted us to play with the djembe, since we're both not too bad with
that instrument. I gave them a quick demonstration, just to please them. As for Coline, she didn't let them turn her into a circus animal and she simply refused, clever girl. Then she started playing with my little electric piano, while I was playing with my "Buzz Lighyear" phone (you didn't expect me to play with her dolls did you !). So we just had fun making quite a cacophony ... (... to be continued)
In the Ardennes, a little girl came to visit us. Her name is Coline. She's a little 6 year old girl, visually challenged, and whose hypophysis, just like mine, is under-developped. (hence she knows all about the evening hormone injections). Her mommy and my daddy started exchanging emails through the site. So this is completely new to me, and nobody knew them before they arrived ! When she got here with her mommy, we didn't establish contact right away. It was around noon, during one of my "sleepy" moments (I had been up since 4 a.m. ...). Besides, to be honest with you, I'm not very outgoing around kids mmy age... as if I prefered adults. So I don't
have any real friend my age, except my classmates, but they all live very far away. Anyway, I'm not used to being introduced to a beautiful stranger ... and almost my age on top of it ! (way to go parents !) Daddy, mommy, and her mommy got along right away. And since daddy also got along right away with Coline, I listened very carefully, just to get in the mood. (to be continued...)