pondering things...

so I sit here at the computer, exhausted, after a difficult week with my son Caleb.

What made it difficult?

I forgot this week that his issues that come out as behaviors- are a disability. I bought into the lie that "he really can do it if we force him to, or con him to."

yup. I did. Just like parents of dyslexic kids who for years were told that their children were lazy readers- because all the other area of academics in their lives, they were doing well in. It took years, research and someone taking the time to listen to these children to realize that dyslexia was a REAL disablity and not an excuse for lazy children.

My son was restrained three times this week. Three. You would think after the first I would have called a meeting.......it's a warning that something isn't going correctly.

He is terrified of going to school. So angry that this morning he took off his clothes as the bus pulled in our driveway because he knew that we would not be able to force him on the bus, in this cold, in underwear.

Then, when my husband, already late for work (and he works for the governor who is watching for lazy state employees that she can lay off to fix her economic problems- you know ones that come to work late often...which is him...because of Caleb but he always stays late to make up the time)....stressed...and my 21 year old tried to get him in the car; he refused.

he walked up to me quietly and whispered in my ear, "I am running away but don't tell anyone because they will stop me."

When my husband left for work, I called the school and indicated that we couldn't safely get him to school after all; feeling guilt as a parent that I was not able to get my son to school; feeling fear as a parent because at what point will they hospitalize him for his "acting out"...

With a screaming toddler in tow, I convinced Caleb to cuddle with me while I put Sam down for a nap. Curling up with him, I asked him, "you know how much your daddy and I love you and for how long we wanted you, right?"

He answered, "1,000 million"

I responded, "more, can you tell me about school?"

Caleb explained that he hated school because play time was too long away. He thought it a better idea to do math, then play; read, then play. He proceeded to explain that when he has to work all morning and can't play until after lunch; that his body starts to feel funny. He told me that when his body feels funny, he looses his "good boundaries" which frustrates and angers him. That is when he starts acting out, or he gets bored until his head hurts.

What amazes me with his answer is that it seems to be always around 10:30 that he starts to "loose it" at school.

Second, he misses his favorite toys. He had some toys (a batmobile) that were taken by the teacher and returned to the locked closet because he was told they are toys for younger kids.

Third, he hates restraints. He went on to show me how they covered his mouth with his shirt and held his head down. He said his feet and hands hurt when they hold him down.

I have always been against restraints. I have been trained at my work that they are dangerous, only get temporary results, and teach kids with sensory issues to get the input that they need inappropriately.

The time has come for me to evaluate the effectiveness of this program for Caleb. When I homeschool him, he does very well. My confusion comes in with the question, "am I enabling him to shelter himself in his house?" Does a child with autism have to learn to wake up everyday and go meet life?

My husband pointed out to me that if a child is wheel chair bound, do we treat it as behavioral when he can't walk?

My son can't work on academics without physical breaks. He is socially developmentally delayed; batman toys are still appropriate for him. Restraints? Well, they just scare the crap out of me, can you imagine him? When the state has decided that spankings are abusive and restraints are ok (they are more likely to cause death and/or injury) then what kind of world do we live in?

The real question that I continue to face is, am I ready to homeschool him full time? Am I able? Am I qualified? Will I ruin his life?

Can I do it?

hmmm and more importantly- Don't you find it AMAZING that in 5 minutes of listening to a "disabled" child; he was able to tell me what the problems are?

Days Gone By....

I play a game on another blog, apples to apples. This time the instruction was to write a short story on days gone by...thinking of new years reflections of yesterday. I'd like to post here what I wrote there...


DAYS GONE BY.....

sitting on the floor, criss cross applesauce, she gazed into the blinking lights of the christmas tree...

bright lights of red, yellow, green and blue, blinking in tune to "we wish you a merry christmas" drew her into a hypnotic gaze....

she looked down at the presents under the tree. The giant life size barbie smiled back at her surreally. There was a hess truck, ready to go, parked next to boxes wrapped in pretty paper and ribbons. The was another truck filled with chocolate candies...

and she remembered, a different christmas eve; a christmas that seemed so long ago.

with a tree that barely had any lights at all and a scattering of ornaments which had been hand made from paper.

with a Tonka dump truck also filled with chocolate candies. christmas ball candies wrapped in tinfoil colors of red, white and green...

gifts under the tree from Santa waiting for a two year old to pitter patter down the stairs...

she had laid on the sofa that night, wanting to fall asleep but couldn't. The anticipation of the baby's expression with all the gifts she managed to get for him was keeping her awake.

She had begged, borrowed and stoled as the saying goes to get all the dreams she had for this little one.

A single parent working part time at college barely managing to get the bills paid, never really having enough for the bills, the food and the bus fare to get around.

But she did it!

She got him a small table and chair set, had her father buy him some music sing a long videos, signed up for donations with the local red cross toy drive.

and christmas was here.

feet came piddle paddle down the stairs.
"ma ma?" she heard him ask.

"here I am baby, ma ma is down here on the couch. Santa Claus came!'

she was surprised to learn that the two year old didn't really seem to know what that meant.

He just wanted to climb in her lap and watch the christmas lights on the tree.

She got up and gave him a present, "open this one, open it quick, see what Santa brought!"

The little toddler climbed out of her lap and pushed the present away. His eyes were drawn to the dump truck with bright shiny balls in the back.

He toddled over to the truck, sat down in his clumsey, new at walking kind of way; and played with the chocolate candies as if they were the greatest little bright balls that ever existed.

The bag had cost 99 cents.

He kept playing with his new balls as she went from anxiously wanting him to rip open all his gifts to resigning that well, christmas if for him, and if those 99cent bag of chocolate balls brought him joy; she would let him have joy.

She got up and started her household chores. After dinner that night, she tucked a blanket over him as he slept next to the tree on the floor, beside all the presents that hadn't been opened.

She reached down to kiss him goodnight, as he stirred, she saw a ball held tight in each hand; smushing chocolate all over his fingers. Only in his sleep had the chocolate found it's freedom from the wrappers.

19 years later she sat here looking at the new dump truck filled with candies for the new toddler. A different baby, a different father, a different time.

Now there was money, now there would be enough food; enough for the 20 guests that had just joined them for christmas eve dinner. Tomorrow there would be siblings shouting with joy in the morning and a daddy lovingly watching.

This year there was a tree decorated with plenty of lights, plenty of beautiful ornaments...and yet still some hand made paper ones remained.

Those are my favorite ones, she thought.

and she laughed to herself as she looked at the mountains of gifts for the children. She had again spent way too much money, and wondered at the lesson lost from the toddler before.

She had again, not been able to stop shopping after purchasing a simple bag of shiny balls, perhaps saving the money for a later day.

Now, after all these years, after all these children, she knew that even though it was the simplest gifts that touched the hearts of children....

it was her heart she was touching to be a generous Santa Claus..

giving because she knew now, 19 years later, that those precious simple pitter patter days really do vanish much too quickly like the old people had told her.

Before falling asleep on the couch again, like she had for 20 years on christmas eve; she looked at a handmade paper christmas ornament swinging above the new dump truck with tinfoil wrapped chocolate candies...and lovingly remembered days gone by...


Merry christmas everyone.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

I am thankful for.....



being able to prepare for thanksgiving,

by making cornucopia breads with my children's classes,

for each child to take one to their own home,

kindergarteners and 8 year olds,



and teachers too.....

and even one for our own table.

Life is good. Happy Thanksgiving.

on loosing my mind.....

today i came close, really close to loosing my mind.

it all started.......well, honestly sometime over the past few months.

we are on a hamster wheel, turning and turning, running to get there...

but where?

there was a goal, I am sure of it.

The goal is to get everyone in this family in their places with bright sunshiny faces.

That means people to work, in school, in therapy....and on time.

and the dryer broke.

and one car died.

so we run to the laundry mat with loads of wet clothes...

and we run to all the therapy appointments, meetings, trainings and field trips with one vehicle.

and my sister's husband is sick, very sick.

and she is loosing her house.

soon.

with 4 kids to feed.

so we run. to appointments. to therapy. to school. to work. and wake up each day to do it all over again.

my one year old now needs occupational therapy. it's an eating issue. one similar to Caleb but yet very different.

and my teenagers car died. sunday. he commutes to college.

so today I wake up after working an added shift last night, hoping the money will pay for a new dryer or a car battery. oh, did I add that the new car has a battery that periodically doesn't work?

at 6:30 a.m. my 8 year old woke up screaming and holding his ear...not a good sign.

which woke up my 1 year old screaming "ba ba" wanting to nurse to make up for me being gone last night.

which woke up my 5 year old who never wakes up well if it is too early. so she starting crying, this ear peircing wine.

so I forced myself to get up. get the lunches made. get the clean clothes on. find the homework folders. before the bus can come.

but my 8 year old held his ear, curled up on the couch and peed on it.

so I called his school and called the doctor so he could be seen...squeezed in between dropping my teenager off at college and getting home before the kindergarten bus.

then I left to drop my husband off at work (one car, remember) and beg my sister to come with me to the baby's occupational therapy because there was no way I could handle the 8 year old (he has autism) with the baby who screams through his therapy appointment; which sets off an auditory sensitive 8 year old;

who already peed on my couch so there is no self control today.

they decide to hang out at her house instead. my one year old screams as we leave because it isn't fair; he wants to stay too.

arriving a little early to therapy, I swing by the party store to buy my daughters yellow gloves and crown for her "Belle" costume because there is a Halloween party; tomorrow.

seriously. and I have to go because I have to return a cage that a women lent me when I bought guinea hens from her last week.

because the pamper boxes I brought to her home just wouldn't hold the pecking hens.

so I pull into the party shop parking lot...and the baby fell asleep.

So I drive to therapy thinking I'll catch this store after therapy.

there were no parking spaces at therapy.
none.
and we came to this facility 3 years ago for easier access to the office.

but a factory of some kind moved in next door and takes all the spaces. so I parked illegally in one of the handicapped spaces; after asking permission.

so while my baby is in therapy by himself; I meet a woman with a four month old baby that is bigger than my 13 month old. and it makes me worry more.

and I rest for a half hour thinking, wow, he isn't crying this time....this is progress.

then the therapest opens a sound proof door (can I buy one for my home?)and he is screaming for his life. he is out of breath as he sees me. she hands me an eval. it's not good. he needs therapy two times a week. yeah, in the middle of my week filled with vision therapy, dog therapy, occupational therapy and speech therapy for my 8 year old. yeah right. but I sign him up because, well, I want early intervention, right?

so I go back to the party store and they don't have yellow gloves.....so I buy white ones.

oh well Belle, get a life.

I run next door to Aldi's to grab a few food items to get through tonight until I can shop tomorrow. I fill my basket, get to the register, and they can't take my debit card BECAUSE THERE IS A CRACK IN THE MAGNETIC STRIP...so I leave my groceries there and race home to get my oldest to get him to school before he is late.

when my sister calls.

Caleb peed his pants and needs a change of clothes.

So I race the teenager to his class, run to my sisters, change my son, feed him and race him to his doctor's appointment.

I get him into the car on time but the car won't start. (remember that quirky battery).

So my sister comes out to jump my car but I can't find my cables. husband tells me (thank god for cell phones) there on the floor in the front seat which I can't see them because it is a mess.

I jump the car but now my son wants to ride in auntie's car.

So I start counting to ten...and back again...and bribe and threaten...and we get to the pediatrician's office ten minutes after 2pm

to find out that the appointment is at 3.

Which means that my son who can't wait without spinning circles around everyone; has to wait.

and they run late anyway.

so at 3:15 I tell the nurse I will come back after I go catch the school bus for my kindergartner.... but the wonderful doctor hears me so she comes quick.

and he has an ear infection.

would ya think?

but she has a million other necessary questions about all his other evals.....yeah he is going through a ton more evals, MRI, catscans, sleep studies...but I can't talk...so I tell her I'll catch up with her in two weeks because he has an appointment with her to check HIS WEIGHT.

yeah, he weighs too much....

and the baby comes in around the same time because he weighs too little...

and I rush to the car,
and I race to beat the bus....
and I get one off the bus to nurse the other...
and plan dinner to find out things are missing (remember Aldi's?)

then it is time to pick up husband and go to pharmacy to get perscription.


I walk into CVS like I have for years. I walk to the "drop off" counter and the woman is not waiting on anyone. I try to hand her a script but she rudely tells me that she is busy.

A woman is asking another employee questions about items near me...this looks like it is going to take a while.

So I ask the first woman because I am confused, if I can drop off the script so I can shop.

This rude woman says something like "YEAH< but I am with a customer so you can do that after you wait your turn!"

which is when I lost my mind.

"NO THANKS I'LL GO SOMEWHERE ELSE WHERE THEY WANT MY MONEY AND BUSINESS AND DON'T HAVE FREAKING BAD ATTITUDE" and stormed out of CVS and into the parking lot and into the car, shaking, and crying...and telling my husband we can NEVER GO IN THAT STORE AGAIN.

because I am sick of being yelled at; told NO; kicked; things thrown at my head...oh that's the autism.....

I drive to STOP and SHOP. Drop of the script. Buy a bag of Baby Ruths and walk around eating them while trying to figure out what I need.

THEY REMODELED THE FREAKING STORE so I can't find anything I need.

so I buy important stuff like ice cream, whip cream, bananas and things I haven't bought in a really long time....and remember to get the chicken noodle soup, gingerale and saltines for my sick kids.

I get in line, OK has anyone tried to pay for groceries these days? there are like double the amount of self help lines than those with an employee!

I figure if I am going to ring up my own groceries, they ought to pay me the $7.00 an hour while I am doing it that they pay their other employees who do the same thing.

plus i need someone to type in my card as a credit, because the strip is broke.

As my groceries are being rung up; I recognize a woman in line behind me. My obgyn who was proud of me when I lost weight by eating healthy....and she has a ton of healthy food...

I frantically start bagging the candybars, ice cream and canned soup to hide what I am feeding my family...evil processed garbage...

when a woman from the PTA walks by....

and I realize that I am shoving groceries into plastic bags; lots of them.

Oh, I didn't tell you that I am pushing the school to go "green" and have started a committee for this venture....complete with trying to get a composter for the school and chairing the committee for FAMILY FUN DAY in January; a crafting workshop using clean garbage.

seriously.

and here I am; green queen; shoving processed chemical junk into plastic bags that are killing dolphins in the pacific ocean.

crap. Maybe I'll tell them I had no plastic in my own home to bring in and had to buy junk food in plastic garbage to help teach a lesson to those who are ruining our planet with their garbage!

Ha! Yeah, that's the ticket. Do ya think they'll believe it?

Oh well.

you win some days; you loose others.

thanks for listening....but I got to go pick up my son from college....

maybe I catch your comments on my rebound when I come back tonight to eat the banana split.

got any creme de mint? rum? vodka? anything?

You know, they run classes at some therapy centers for parents to learn how to take care of themselves in the midst of autism.... a group once a week to listen to other mother's vent.

What the hell do I need that stress for? I'll come home to my house trashed!

Why doesn't someone just get my insurance company to pay for a maid twice a week...then I could de stress!

but you know I complain but I wouldn't trade my kids for anything- I love them all and am blessed to have them in my life...so don't misunderstand me; it was just a bad day.

Tiger Lily's shadow

Hannah (age 5) loves to sneak my camera when I am not looking and take pictures....

pictures of her baby brother, pictures of her toys, of her painted toes...

but mostly of her flowers.

When I found this photo in my camera, I really fell in love with it. I am thinking about entering it into the local fair contest.

I love seeing the tiger lily up close- and the shadows of the lilies on the wall.

Some of her best photos are of her flowers, so if you humor me, I'll share...

Gerry's rose bush

Gerry was my oldest son's grandmother. She died when he 14 years old....her gardens were beautiful. My son asked his father for one of her rose bushes when they sold her house....he had spent many hours in those gardens earning a few coins.



When he was little, she would sing, "I love you a bushel and a peck and my arms around your neck....."


Can you see that little guy trying to hide from me?

there were more blooms; edible blooms....

pictures I took back then so these aren't the same anymore but nevertheless...
our favorite-
the sugar snap peas....




cucumbers....



the begining of zuccini.....



grape tomatoes....



and our PIZZA GARDEN....
did I tell you about the pizza garden?
I decided to plant a pizza garden for the children to grow. One with plum tomatoes, garlic, basil, peppers, and onions...

So I picked a spot in the sun that didn't have very fertile soil...and tried a new way to plant a garden. I gathered up OLD cardboard boxes- I found old pizza boxes so I thought they'd be appropriate. I had the children help me rip up the pizza boxes and place them in a circle. I got the hose and started watering them down so I could place layers of dirt and compost. As I am watering, my daughter sits down,rests her chin on her hand, shaking her head, concerned for me, very concerned for me and says,
"Mommy, can I talk to you?"

so I look up thinking the worst....

"Mommy, I saw this on t.v. I'm so sorry to tell you this. You can't grow pizza from pizza boxes- it doesn't work that way!"

and she bowed her head in a serious sadness.

I wanted to laugh, but this was a VERY IMPORTANT TALK.

SO I showed her the dirt buckets....and the seeds....and explained my idea...using cardboard as a barrier that would compose....and how I couldn't plant the dough...

And a smile came on her lips as understanding formed in her eyes.

"thankgoodness" she said. "I thought you lost your mind!"


So our pizza garden is dedicated to the one I love- and in hopes of never loosing our minds....

(and the red thing hanging? one of our hummingbird feeders....)

I have a little, well two little trees.

Do you remember the mother goose rhyme?

I Had A Little Nut-Tree

I had a little nut tree, nothing would it bear,
But a silver nutmeg, and a golden pear;

The King of Spain's daughter, came to visit me.
And all for the sake of my little nut tree.


These days I am singing a similar tune....



I have a little plum tree
and nothing will it bear
but a SINGLE plum....
but it is golden

and




I have a little pear tree
and nothing will it bear
but a single pear....
not golden.

SO I guess when harvest time arrives,
my husband can eat his plum
and I can eat my pear,
and with the kids
we will share.

days like this make me think organic gardening stinks!

Perhaps we'll have enough raspberries......

You know it is going to be a bad day to get pictures

of the birds in your yard when Saasha decides to post guard. My normally seafood & mice eating cat started noticing the bird feeders when this noisy neigbor moved in! He's kinda cool- anyone know his name?





...and if you look closely at the little hummingbird feeder- that is our resident humming bird. He apparently knew he could outfly the cat!

Hannah's last day of preschool....forever.

I am feeling so bummed out about my computer- I am having difficulties uploading photos- so I am anxious about some things I really want to post....

I got these photos though- so let me share a bittersweet moment.

Friday was Hannah's last day of preschool.

She has been attending the preschool for 2 1/2 years now. She loves this school, has been loved on and cared for by the staff.

Daddy works where she attends and at one point had his office door across the hall from her classroom door.

Hannah tells me that daddy can start working at the local elementary school next year so that they can still be close- and he won't miss her.

Hannah woke up yesterday crying. She really will miss her teachers- and so will I. It was a wonderful experience to leave my daughter in the hands of loving, devoted staff. So refreshing when we've come across some interesting people through the years.

I celebrate the life milestone- my daughter was successful in preschool. She is an advanced learner I am told- already computing addition, subtraction and basic math facts. She has long ago mastered writing her names and those of the people she loves. She is socially outgoing, well adjusted and interested in so many things.

and inside I cry because in the midst of her milestone is the truth that she is growing up. These wonderful early years are ending for her. I already miss them just knowing how quickly they flee.... and yet, I look forward to the maturing relationship that we will share as she grows.

101 COUCHES

some times when I am alone, I dream of owning a beautiful couch.....

See, no one tells you the hidden costs of autism. The incredible prices of therapy that aren't covered by insurance; the diets; the supplements; the swings- these things people hear about when they read about the cost of autism.

I am here to tell you about one of the hidden costs....

we are on our 7th couch since our son was born. He turns 8 next week- and we need a new couch AGAIN.

Does that make it a couch a year?

I no longer go to real furniture stores to look for a couch. We can't afford the expensive ones; it will be ruined in a few months anyway.

See, Autism HATES couches.

Autism causes kids to soil their pants at the least expected moments.....so all of our couches are peed on or worse...

Autism causes kids to make couches fall apart.....

I really haven't figured out HOW; it just happens.

I think it is an autistic fairy that slips into the house at night while we are sleeping- it takes cushions and removes the slip covers....

it hides slip covers in weird places.....

it takes the cushions and throws them outdoors to get rained on....

I know that some of you who haven't lived with autism would read this post and say, "HOW?"

"SURELY if someone was watching this child better, he wouldn't ruin the couches!"

I would answer to you, "you don't know autism"

See, it is not my child who ruins the couches, it is autism.....it lurks its head out to drive me insane.

After a few days of severe autistic activity; parents can become brain numb...so letting a child eating on the couch while perched on the back, hanging upside down...becomes OK.

What was once totally unacceptable behavior becomes.....

not so bad.


Seriously.

When the oppositonality; the physical thrasing; the soiled clothes; the phone calls from the school to come and get your child while you have a baby who needs to be nursed in tow; the pulling off the clothes; the spinning in circles while screaming a high pitch yell.........all comes together like a tidal wave over a period of a few days; you need rest.

And rest often means that it is ok to hang on the couch- to paint one's body on the couch with shampoo and toothpaste....or god knows what else. You pick your battles because if you don't you loose sight of what is important. You become a screaming banshee instead of a loving mother.

I figure the day will come when I can own a beautiful couch....

for now, I'll dream of them inventing one made out of cement but feels soft ...

indestructable but still a place to rest.....

a girl can dream, right?

I'll share with you photos of our latest victim; complete with a missing cushion.....

if you promise not to judge me for being a bad parent; see, I LOVE my child, it's the autism that gets me drained.....and let's me allow him to destroy our couches...I mean, they're only objects; He mean so much more to me than they do.

In my world; he's not autistic; HE'S CALEB.....who has autism.......and who on most days is a wonderful, bright, happy little boy.


You know, come to think of it, by the time we CAN have a beautiful couch, I probably will want these ones with the memories engraved into them....

battle wounds.......or journal entries.....

it's all in how you look at it!

Keep Your Hands to Your Own Bodies!

I am having difficulty uploading a video.

see if you can see my LAME attempt to teach my children some boundaries!


http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=302491463860435555

SIGNS OF LIFE

Does anyone remember Steven Curtis Chapman's song, "These are the signs of life?"

When one has a 20 year old kid that commutes to college, one often hears typing on the keyboards as papers are being written, loud door slams as showers are being rushed through to get to class on time and groans that border on agony during exam week.

So when a beautiful sunny weekend comes......and one hears car doors slamming in the yard, one knows that these are the signs of life!

Orange paintballs, lots of cars, teenagers (or are they technically adults now??) talking, soda cans all around can only mean one thing at our home;

IT'S PAINTBALL SEASON! SPRING IS HERE!

Tee Pees for peas!

REMEMBER those ambitions of mine to build the teepees by St. Patricks Day??

Well, I am a little behind.

That seems to be my mantra since I have given birth in September......I'm a little behind, I'm a little behind........I'm a little behind.

puffing out those words like the Little Engine that could.

For a woman who HAD to be 15 minutes early or she was late....this mantra is one of those things that I have to let go off.

Was it one too many kid? Was it simply that I turned 40? Maybe I am having some vitamen deficiency since I gave birth. I don't know.

I did get caught up with myself but then it was time to return to work after my 6 month maternity leave.

so now I am behind AGAIN!

I find ways to beat myself.

This time? I planted 3 beds of SUGAR SNAP PEAS. This way I figure I can still replant them or plant more!

We have gathered the poles from our woods. It took some doing, if you could imagine trying to convince the 7 year old that a 10 inch round rotted oak tree that was about 10 feet long- wouldn't quite match the other limbs we found.

Then a pirate fight broke out in my yard, after all the limbs make GREAT pirate swords.

Just when we had exactly the amount of matching tree limbs that we needed, a WAIL from Sam was heard- it was time to nurse.

So the poles remain lined up- ready to go up- today?

Happy planting!