All Alone

I watched an interesting interview with a 20 something year old who has a sibling with Autism.  He said he forced his autistic brother to play with him and found ways to connect on different levels.  That makes me happy.  What made me a little sad was the worry the "normie" brother had about what would happen to his autistic brother.

Can you imagine, before you have children, before you have a pet, before you have an apartment, your biggest fear is your sibling needing help and that you are the only one who can give it to him?  For me, that is an awful fear.  What a weight the child must carry in such a situation.  How can a parent comfort such fears?  "Oh don't worry, we'll have money to take care of him."  I'm not totally sure that would work for me.  I would worry that the money would disappear or worse be stolen.  I would figure out ways to make sure the money would be safe.  I would toss and turn at night after dreams of seeing my sibling lost and alone.

Or as this sibling pointed out: "We forced him into our world, it would be awful to see him all alone in the world he was forced to be part of."

These thoughts just make me nervous.... then something else dawns on me.... shouldn't the government be taking care of us? ... ahhhh, I'm so Canadian...

Monty Python Helps Explain

 Two very different approaches to dealing with autism....




Having a conversation with this head and tail of a tiger is almost as tiring as doing it with an autistic three year old.

The man looking for the leg just wants some logical answers to his questions.  The head and tail seem to be trying to give answers but in a round about way.  The one-less-leg man doesn't care why they seem odd or can't carry on a conversation, he just wants his leg.

We've all heard parents say they "lost" their child to autism.  It's one of those things that makes autism so difficult to understand.  Did the child go somewhere?  Or have they always been there just hiding in the bushes behind these weirdos?

Thus my connection to this video.
The leg which has gone missing is your child.
When searching for your child among all the autistic traits (the tiger head and tail) there are some who ask instead "Why are you spinning" or "Why can't you talk?" (or in this case "why are you dressed as a tiger?") one sometimes forgets the whole point in the search to begin with- the leg (the child's personality, who they really are and who they could become).

People are looking for a "cure" for autism and there seems to be something forgotten.  Who cares how or why it happened, let's find the friggin leg!

ps.  I am all for understanding why autism happens and how we can prevent severe cases of it in future generations, but I'm not about to start pointing to a culprit when the real work should be with connecting with my child.  Why would i put my energy into understanding why two grown men are in a tiger outfit?

Buddhist Easter

It was only this past Friday that I realized something was happening this weekend.  When my son's bus driver said he would see them next week it made me wonder what was happening to him.  We got into the house and I glanced at the calendar.  Good Friday was tomorrow!  My first thought: What am I gonna do with my kids tomorrow?

The fact that I had a full 8 hours of entertaining my son seemed daunting.  I would have to take them somewhere.  It would be raining so the options were: Zoo, Children's Museum or a Toys R Us.  The Zoo has this great children's zoo inside and there are lots of activities to do and animals to see without going into the rain.  The problem with the Zoo is that I have to leave the stroller outside and I didn't want to carry my 20lb daughter as my 3 year old runs around.  The children's museum seemed the best choice cause we are members and it wouldn't cost us a thing to go.  The toy store just didn't appeal to me.  I like spending my money on candy, but would prefer it be candy for myself.

So instead we spent Friday sitting on the couch watching movies.  My son wasn't taking my bait of a gummi worm if he got in the car.  There we sat, almost as in some artistic movie... staring at each other.  Bored out of our minds.  Couldn't even get some alone time as my son wouldn't have a nap on Friday.  Of course I didn't try all that hard but I did ask him timidly if he wanted to have a nap.... that counts, that totally counts!

Anyway, here is to my Buddhist Easter!  I hope you all enjoyed yours :)

Phantom Autism

I remember learning while in college that there is a certain kind of illness people get when they start to study diseases and mental illnesses.  I don't know the name of it and a quick search on Google says I won't be able to find it easily.  Usually medial students get it as they study the destructive nature of our bodies.  The human brain can really screw with you.

After reading multiple books and watching plenty of documentaries I feel like I'm starting to see signs of Autism in MY day to day life.  I get very annoyed when my routine is uprooted and I have always had a hard time making friends.  All in all it's hard to connect with people on EVERY level.  But that's just silly!

Why would I NOW believe I have a developmental disability after I've already developed, let alone graduated high school and university without any outside help?  I believe as a parent you tend to look to yourself when trying to understand what is happening to your children.  It makes sense that I would want to connect with my child and one of the best ways is by finding a common ground.  Or common disfunction?  But, every parent has a common disfunction with their child.  For some it's interest in bad habits, for others it's the way they laugh (mine would be called the woop, and both my children pop ear drums when they laugh).

The hard truth is: I don't Stem.  I don't have difficulties with others.  I don't fixate on things.  I don't have one way of thinking.  I am not autistic.... but, man, for some reason my brain wants to get me there!

As for now, I think I'll start looking harder at the world around me and how I perceive it.  That's really all I can do, right?  Or perhaps I can stop reading the studies on autism and get back into reading novels about romance.  Romance is lovely, isn't it?  I don't have to think and the "problems" the characters deal with seem trivial.

Take me away Ruthiford, or St John, or Bob.... take me to your ridiculous scenarios where there always seems to be a reason NOT to have a full conversation about relationships and everyone is beautiful..... ahhh, that's better.

Grunting

Grunting is unacceptable at the dinner table.  I've never really had a problem with it but the majority of people in USA would agree.  The fact is it looks like my cooking has made everyone at the table de-evolve.  Only recently grunting has started to really get on my nerves.

A three year old should be able to ask for things with WORDS.  This is one of the "normal" things one would see with a child who has eaten his third birthday cake shaped like a train, but there is a different conversation going on in my house:

Mom: Do you want some food?
Son: Some food?
Mom: Is that yes?
Son: Is that yes?
Mom: Or no?
Son: Or no?
Mom: (he isn't listening to me so let me get his attention) How about a hippo?
Son: Hippo, okay!
Mom: You want to eat a hippo? (laughing heartily)
Son: Eat a hippo?
Mom: Yes or no?
Son: ..... (grunt)
Mom: Is that a no?

and so on...

If one were conversing with an adult, they would think this repeating activity was trying to bring a load of pain to the human tape recorder.  It's funny to think of how often I hear what I have just said.  Not only do I hear what I just said, but when I try to shake up the conversation enough to get my son more interested (ie inserting an animal he would NEVER eat) it seems to make him more frustrated.  We both seem to know exactly what to do to bug the other.

He knows that if he repeats enough of what I say, I'll leave him alone eventually.  I know that when I throw in something illogical he doesn't understand why I'm laughing.  My son and I have a Love/(grunt) relationship.

Grunting came into our lives recently when my son was expected to use his words more often.  He would grunt and get angry.  There were screaming fits and flailing arms until I started reminding him he could use words.  Asking a question he ALWAYS knows the answer to seems to help:

Mom: Please eat your lima beans.
Son: (grunt)
Mom: You've done so well with the rest of your meal, why not finish off those beans?
Son: (screaming grunt)
Mom: Do you want apple sauce for dessert?  You have to eat your lima beans for apple sauce.
Son: (grunt scream grunt)
Mom: Please use your words.
Son: (SCREAMING GRUNT)
Mom: Do you want to go into a time out?
Son: No.
Mom: Then please use your words.
Son: Apple sauce
Mom: You can have apple sauce when you finish your lima beans.
Son: Apple sauce, PLEASE.
Mom: When you're finished your lima beans.
Son: (grunt)

and so on...

I'm sure I'd enjoy it oh so much more if I were a fly on the wall, but then again, everyone's life would be fun to watch as a fly on the wall....

Well, maybe not everyone's, but a few... okay, maybe just a couple.

Trailer Trash

How bad is it that I keep finding myself looking a bit like a woman who spent the 39 of the 40 years of her life in a trailer?  It just doesn't make sense to get "dressed up" for a day of chasing kids and trying to remember to eat properly (have I had veggies today?  Ahh, forget it, I'll have some tomorrow, I PROMISE!).

Either way, it's funny how little I care about how people see me lately.  Ya, I gained back those five pounds I kicked off my butt about two months ago, but I also gained some more!  So, it's like getting more change back from the cashier than you thought you were going to get!  YA, WIGGLY MIDDLE!  Perhaps it's because I'm so tired, or perhaps I'm not getting enough "me" time at the salon (honestly, when was the last time I got my hair cut by someone other than myself or my husband?) but I'm going to use the excuse that my husband loves me.

He does.  It doesn't matter how hairy my legs are or how smelly I am, he still loves me.  Ya know, I've changed my mind.  This is a stupid reason. (he still loves me though.)

I will instead say it is because I have won a billion dollars and shouldn't care what others think cause I could buy them out of their house if I wanted to! Wait, this one is stupid too.

Let's just say I have been making more purchases of gummibears and less adventures to the veggie world.  It's not that hard to change what I've damaged, but who am I to change nature?  Right?  Am I right? ...

Let's just forget that if I were "natural" I would be running around with a spear trying to kill small mammals and wear their clothes because it gets cold here in Illinois!  But, I'd be just as unshaven!  So I'm half way to natural.  Perhaps now I should enjoy an apple to turn myself around this corner of flabby street to fit avenue.  Or I could eat those cookies I made today.

.... I'll have an apple tomorrow, I PROMISE!

6pm Bedtime

You wouldn't think that such a crazy idea would work, right?  Well, it actually has been pretty good lately since I pushed the bedtime back to when most people are arriving home from work.

The hardest part is the fact it's so bright outside!  Who in they're right mind would think "NOW would be the best time to sleep" as they look out at the bright beginning of the evening and children frolicking in the green grass?  Apparently I do.

After three weeks of blissfully waking after 6:30am I don't think I'll be able to go back to waking at 5 again.  Of course there have been the night wakings.  Once in a while I have both kids up at the same time and wonder if it is a good idea to put them down so early.  Then I put my head down and wake up after the sun has risen, ahhhh, so relaxing.

To be fair, I have an earlier bedtime too.  Instead of waiting for hubby to get home I will lay my head down and go to sleep at about 9pm.  Really, this is a big deal to someone who stays up voluntarily until midnight at the earliest!  So, you'd say I am giving myself the same restrictions.  I do get exceptions though!  Like: cleaning the kitchen... ok that's my only one but it's a good one and has to be done on a daily basis.  So I just try to make the kitchen as messy as I possibly can so I can stay up, (and thus have gone to bed at 9pm once in the past two weeks).  Easy schmeesy!

... of course that does mean that I am cleaning the whole time, which isn't the desired past time of many.  But man, if you were a neat freak and wanted the best way to full fill the dream- I've got it!

Ha ha!  Suckers! ..... wait....

Temple Grandin

Temple Grandin is an amazing woman who has surpassed every expectation for any person who has stepped in her path.  We in the Autistic community look at her as the first Autistic person to speak about being autistic... novel, no?  There is a movie out right now ("Temple Grandin" is the title) about her life.

SPOILER ALERT! I'm about to talk in detail about the movie...

Being a mother of a mildly autistic child, I wanted to learn more about Temple's mother.  When first introduced I very much wanted to hate her.  There were moments I thought this woman had no idea what her pushing was doing to her child.  She WAS the cold cruel mother they spoke of in the 50s!  AHA!  Temple must have overcome her obstacle's DESPITE her mother!

Refrigerator Mothers, is what they used to call them, back when Bettelheim showed up on the scene with vast amounts of insight about stuff he made up.  Yes, that's right.  They blame the mother.  The cold hearted mother who has no love for this little person.  Of course it was usually the parents who wanted to find help for their children and not professionals.  You'd think if you wanted help for your child it would equate how loving you are, but nope!  Not during the 50s and 60s!

Temple's mother pushed her daughter through some of the hardest moments of anyone's life.  From the tantrums of toddlerhood to the first day of college, mother was there.

I hated this woman as I watched for the first half an hour because she just seemed so determined to make Temple do things Temple didn't want to do.  Imagine watching as they drive away from her Aunt's ranch in the passenger seat Temple looks lovingly at the ranch.  (Goodbye, my only friends) Mother did it.  As you are sitting there hating the mother for forcing her daughter to do this there is a flashback.  Beautifully done.

First you see tantrums, glazed eyes looking at sparkling lights and a four year old girl who hasn't spoken a word.  Flash to a doctor's office where the mother is told she has brought this upon her daughter.  (Can you effing imagine!?) Temple's mother protests.  She has another child and that child is normal.  The doctor suggests institutionalization.  The mother instead begins on the journey of teaching her child how to talk and communicate, all without professional help.  You see the frustration and patience of this woman flash before you.  Speaking, connection, screams, crying, pain all only seconds of images that represent a lifetime fight.

You realize, this is a good mother.  She took on the system and brought her daughter out of her shell.  It's a mother who knows what her daughter can do.  This woman knows what Temple is capable of.  She isn't being cruel or unloving.  Just the opposite.

.... I just think it's good to remember as parents that pushing your child to their best potential is not cruel. It's love.

I believe Temple would equate love with what her mother did for her.  It is hard not to bow your head in respect for this woman who made Temple Grandin the best she could be....

Eustacia Cutler is her name.....

A Quiet Party

I'm not sure if you have ever enjoyed the feeling of throwing a party and having fewer than three people show up, but let me tell you it is something else!  Oh who cares, right?  The three people who showed up are having a good time so screw the world, eh?....

Then the three people who actually did show up find a way to leave the party and you are stuck with chips and dip enough to feed an army.  You don't even like chips or dip, but you thought your friends would!  Oh well, time to sit on your couch and stare at the TV for a while because you can't think of anything else to do.

This is what I am feeling my life becoming.  Not that I am alone or that I don't have a support network, but it's more like the aforementioned party is going on in my head and the one thought that is left at the party is the Autism one.  All I keep talking about is Autism and I'm starting to get annoyed.  I can't explain my thought patterns to myself anymore.  I'm over those unhelpful repeating phrases.  Should we do this?  Or this?  Or this?  Can I do this? Or this? Or...

... you know what, I'll eat the damn chips and dip cause it will give me something else to think about other than this crap.  I can't stop talking about Autism.  I can't find anything else in my brain.  It seems the whole party has died and I'm sitting there waiting for some other thought to show up!  Maybe there are "thought" prostitutes I could call in to help distract.  Although, I'm pretty sure they're expensive and I don't have that kind of mind money.  Never mind...

... here's to thinking about other things... cheers, enjoy the stale chips and dip ;)

What the hell is Autism?

So, after an enlightening conversation with my sister I made a rather interesting parallel.  As I couldn't think of a better analogy for what the "Autism Spectrum" is other than the next explanation I am hoping others out there will have other ideas.

Autism Spectrum Disorder is to  Asperger's Syndrome

as 

Cancer is to Lymphoma

Any thoughts?

Pooping in the Park

You know what?  I think I'll just let the title sink in first.....

You see, it was a beautiful day yesterday and we needed to get outside.  Perhaps the better phrase is MY SON needed to get outside.  I could have gone either way and my 10 month old daughter just wanted to chew on stuff.  It just made sense that we leave the house.  After we were resolved to leave and enjoy the sunshine the next few things happened:

1) try on the potty
2) leave the house and pee in pants
3) return home, change and sit on potty for a few minutes
4) finally get to park
5) HAPPILY poop in pants
6) return home to clean up
7) get in tub, scream and kick poop laced water around thus making it splash EVERYWHERE
8) finally calm down and watch tv, while mommy cleans

I could make it a long story, but really the above is what happened.... enjoy that image :)

Mat Leave

Just in the past three or four days I've been bombarded with mat leave/pregnancy/working vs SAH mothers and can't help but bring my opinions up without offending people.  I don't know why!?  (I do know why, these subjects are on the same lines as religion and politics... in friendly conversation you either completely agree or don't talk about it.)

First of all, I am not against mothers who go back to work after their mat leave.  I believe it's choice that makes feminism great.  And that is what working mothers have done, just like every other mother on earth. She has made a lifestyle/parenting choice.  I encourage that.

Second of all, I may come off as one who doesn't want women to go back to work because I was put off by the fact that my obgyn had a baby and was back at work just 4or5 weeks later.  I find this wrong.  It's a choice, yes.  She has the money to have the baby taken care of while she's at work, yes.  So, I should be in support for this choice but I'm not.  Not in the United States of America.  Hell no.

If I could give you my explanation in what some would call "conspiracy" context.

Let us remember that in the great and most wonderful country USA, where the infant mortality rate is the highest of all the developed countries, women get 6 weeks off for mat leave by federal mandate.  The company you work for is responsible for paying your "disability" check, or 60% of your pay for those 6 weeks.

Doesn't sound like it would be a bad offer, does it?  6 weeks off and money to boot!  ... Ya, I'm not buying it.  It just feels like some lobbyist, who's job it is to keep big business rich, has used the argument that women should be considered equal in the workplace and the only other thing they can find equal (price wise) to pregnancy is a serious surgery.  So, you pushing a baby out of your va jaja and trying to feed it with your tatas is the equal to, let's say, back surgery.

Let's look at what happens when you have back surgery vs a baby.

both: pain
both: recovery time
birth: breast feeding; surgery: someone feeding you
birth: emotional ups and downs; surgery: being pissed off because you can't play basketball right now
birth: advil; surgery: about three different pain killers I couldn't name, even though I've worked in a medical bookstore
birth: lack of sleep; surgery: those drugs take care of that
birth: need community support; surgery: get the sympathy of a few people, where other's are pissed at you for getting 6 weeks off for a stupid slipped disc (I mean really, I hear joey has had a slipped disc for about 3 years and he isn't complaining!)

As one can see, although both have lots of pain and frustration happening, there is no way I think a doctor would put these two things in the same category.

Women need the support of the community after they have had a baby.  I have had one when there was me and my husband and a few friends.  Those few friends are all I had and am very thankful for them.  What I see when a DOCTOR of all people show up to work just a few weeks after giving birth is ample reason NOT to give women more support after birth.

As a Lobbyist would say "There are even OBGYNs who return to work just 3 or 4 weeks after birth.  How can we believe that women really need the extra time when we see such examples?"

So, I say thank you for giving corporations ample reason not to take PARENTING as seriously as surgery.  Thanks for that.....

oh and don't even get me started on the father's leave!  SHEESH!

Brazil Shootings

I am of the generation who were in High School when the Columbine shootings happened.  I remember the day it happened.  We at school were all huddled in front of televisions watching the events unfold on the news.  I believe most of the day we were in our home rooms and didn't do much else.  Lots of us were called home by our parents and many more refused because they wanted to be with their friends.  I could understand that.

What I still, to this day, do not understand is the hate some feel.  Enough hate or anger to hurt others.  How could anyone believe themselves worthy of the task of taking lives, when those lives were so young?  Honestly, it isn't fair.  I can't find a reason for it.  There is no answer other than anger and hate took hold when it shouldn't have.

I am a Buddhist.  I believe that when your heart stops beating you suddenly understand life and why we live it.  I can only hope that these souls do not feel the fear of the unknown and realize how much they are loved by the world.  Every child is loved, we should let them know more often.

Incense for the lost and their loved ones suffering.  13 shot and more wounded.

News article

Stomach Flu

All right, enough already!  You mean spirited illnesses!  Leave me alone!

Once again I caught something bad.  Not only bad, but rather gross.  When your kids have the stomach flu you think: Poor thing, they should get in bed and rest.  When you have the stomach flu you think: Dear god someone kill me.

So you can guess what my house looked like after my husband arrived home.  I texted him, very politely, wondering if he could get home before 8pm, ie the kids bedtime.  I NEVER ask him to take work off when I'm sick, not that he doesn't ask if he should, so you can guess it was bad.  I can just see his reaction at his desk.  "8?  Why would she need me to get home before 8?  I might be able to take off an hour early but that's if all goes well over here.  Why would she want me home at the kids bedtimes?... oooooooo.... ya, I should call my boss."

Off he dashed to get home and arrived to two rather over tired children.  My son had taken off all his clothes and my daughter was chewing on news paper she had found in the recycling.  I was on the living room floor.  I had crawled from the bathroom because my son wanted chocolate milk and my daughter needed a bottle.  After accomplishing both tasks I found a pillow and dropped it like it was hot.

Of course this was after two hours throwing up in the bathroom as my children happily opened all the drawers and pulled every last organized thing out.  Not only did they remove them but my children, amazingly as a team, place each thing on me.  Yes, ON me.  I don't know what the fascination was but apparently it was fun.  There were bandages and bandaids, tampons and pads, toothbrushes and thermometers all placed lightly on my legs, arms or head.

Thankfully nothing fell in the toilet and I'm still alive.... so that's good.

But this incident reminded me of a previous post I wrote.  "Siblings" I believe it was.  My hope that one day my son and daughter will play together happily while trying to get me killed or crippled.  I think they're on their way.

My son was pretty sweet about the whole thing.  He kept tapping my shoulder with his little hand reassuringly saying "It's ok, Mommy.  It's ok."  My daughter on the other hand has this awful habit of pulling my hair and thought it was just the greatest gift in the world to have Mommy's head so close to the ground.  I guess you win some and you lose some.

Perpetual Motion Toys

...and where to get them!  I'm not totally sure if I should be getting something like this for my son, but I'll tell you, I think it will help him.

I watch as he stares into spinning toys in toy stores or at the children's museum but I don't have anything that at home.  It may be enabling to get him something he'll get lost in.  Perhaps every professional on the planet would tell me I'm crazy and to get him away from the stimuli instead of force it upon him?  I guess I could retort with knowing that it's an obsession and thus the need for it (you wouldn't take away his hat he needs to sleep, would you?).  The need to relax and the lack of stimuli that do it for my son in the house just makes bedtime and mornings awful.

... and why is it he keeps getting up at 5am and seem wide awake?  I know I'm not!  Something I hope will help him stay in his bedroom and relax is this perpetual motion desktop thingy....

It took me weeks to find it.  It took me seconds to decide I want it NOW!  I am posting a site that I believe has the best kind of fidget stuff EVER!  The best part is the videos for almost EVERY fidget toy so you can see how it works and if it's what may help relax you or your child.

I have been to specialty stores all over Chicagoland and this website is the only thing I've found useful.  If you've been looking for what I have, than you'll be super excited you found it!! Enjoy!

Office Playground, Astroid Perpetual Motion

Head First

So, I may have jumped the gun when I said I wanted to donate ribbons for everyone to wear at the Children's Museum.  The ribbon itself costs $5 for 10ft!  So even if half of the people there wanted a ribbon that would be at least 40ft... hmmm, should really have thought that through.

But I bought 20ft of ribbon and have it safely high on a shelf.  It's amazing how everything important or sharp is so high.  I make the joke that when you come to my house to remember a tall person lives here.  So always check top to bottom cupboards if you're looking for something.  Makes me laugh.  Some of my guests have just looked at me confused and my sister even said "Why do you keep saying that?"....

Guess it isn't as funny as I thought, heh.  So, part of me wants to rewind what I promised and just show up with a lovely sign that says "Autism Awareness", but I assume that won't happen.  If they decide they want the ribbons I don't really know what the F I'm gonna do.

I could sell my first born?  Of course he's the reason I am pushing the awareness in the first place... wait!  I've got a great idea:

"Autism Awareness Raffle!  Prize: One Three Year Old.  A chance to feel what it's like to have an autistic child!"
... ok, maybe not....

April Fools

I realized something today.  April is Autism Awareness Month and April 2nd is Autism Awareness Day.  It suddenly made sense when I thought about it this way:

You give birth to a seemingly healthy and disability free child...
Then-
April Fools!  YOUR CHILD IS AUTISTIC!

April 2nd: After you have recovered from the shock the next day you start to learn more about Autism... and will for the rest of the month (or in this analogy, your child's life) :)

I think I'll make an autism bag with the puzzle pieces fabric of the ribbon.  Found some online.  A little treat for me.  Don't usually make stuff for myself as I look at it and say "I really should have given this to someone."  I'm totally sure why I do that... perhaps next year I'll make a bunch of totes and hand them out to friends and family.  That would make me feel like I'm spreading the word.

Ribbon,

Awesome Bag!