A Walk, A Dog, And A Moment

Sorry about all the cliffhangers lately.... so much has been going on....and I have so little time to write with the kids home and all the non-scheduled stuff of summer.

OK, on to the family walk from Father's Day....

Taking family walks is something that we've always done.  Years ago - especially when the kids and dogs were younger - it was a daily thing.

Nowadays, hanging with the folks is not an activity that the kids generally want to do and Smokey would rather lounge around than mark every lawn on the block.

But hey, it was Father's Day.... let's do it.

Smokey's not up to a full trip anymore so we have taken to walking her to the corner, crossing the street, and then taking her home.  Thus, she gets her bit of exercise as well as a bunch of new lawns to sniff.  It's a win-win situation.

We started out.  She was excited.  And, as the six of us headed down the block, it reminded me of old times.

And then Smokey made a noise and stumbled.  Rich grabbed her and, thinking that she had something in her mouth, tried to pry it open.

Her tongue was blue and she had stopped breathing.

Carissa started crying and Sean took her and held her tight to him.

"Carissa, don't look.  Don't look," he shouted as he kept her wrapped in his arms, keeping her from turning around.

"Don't look."

We worked feverishly on Smokey....opening her mouth to see if there was something in there and then each of us doing mouth-to-snout.

My head was screaming, "Not today.  Not now."

Sean just held his sister and kept saying, "Don't look."

I decided to make a run for home and get the car - maybe we could get Smokey to the hospital in time.  I started to run with Ashley but Carissa wouldn't move... she was too traumatized.

Sean scooped her up and started running for home.

It was an amazing sight to see..like a soldier carrying his comrade. 

It was a moment that is snapshot into my memory.

Of course, the action ticked Carissa off.  Sean put her down and she joined the frantic dash for home.

We got to the house.  I opened the front door and instructed the older kids.

"Get Daddy's wallet and cellphone.  They're on the counter."

I buckled Ashley in her car seat while I waited for Sean and Carissa to come out.

Sean came running....

"I have Dad's wallet but I couldn't find his cellphone.  I brought the regular phone instead."

Take a second and think about that... he brought the regular phone...

What a sweet kid.

We jumped in the car and raced down the street to where Rich was leaning over Smokey laying on the sidewalk.

He went to pick her up and, just like Carissa, she squirmed to get away.

Ahhhh... she's back.

Relief.

We got her home and tried as we could to settle down from the evening's events. 

Smokey eventually came around enough to drink some water and take a nap.  We knew all was back to normal when Carissa went over to give her some love and Smokey growled at her.  The two of them have a special bond and that's merely Smokey's way of talking to her.

Rich and I sat down that night to discuss the "what ifs" that are a certainty in our future.

And then we talked about Sean... and how calm and wonderful and protective he was throughout the whole ordeal.

He really was our hero.

And not even autism could steal that away from us.

Pop Rocks And Christmas Lists

The other day was Father's Day.

Was it difficult for me to get through seeing that this was going to be my "first" without my dad?  Yea...

And I don't discount how that might have affected my patience and mood when dealing with Sean over the last few days.

However... it was still a day to be celebrated because Rich is a really great, involved dad....

The kids made cards for their father and Sean stepped up his creative ability by using crayons on his instead of simply a #2 pencil.  Carissa made an origami football.

We kept our day pretty low-key and found ourselves wandering Woodfield - our local shopping mall.  We munched our way through various food vendors and then stopped at the kids' favourite stores.

Rich knew of a new one that had lots of "brainy" stuff and we spent a good half hour there.  Sean found separate books on the male brain and female brain.  He was absolutely fascinated.... especially when he learned approximately how much testosterone was coursing through his body.

After awhile Sean began asking what time it was and when were we going to go home.  You would think the idea of perusing stores in search of things to add to a Christmas Wish List would be fun, but Sean was still tied to some internal clock.

Before we exited the mall, we stopped at an old-fashioned candy store.  We were all enthralled (and me, grossed out) by the concept of real crickets and worms inside of lollipops but it was wonderful to explore and show the kids such things as wax soda pop bottles and buttons.

And then we found Pop Rocks....

Rich couldn't resist and bought a package for the kids.  He didn't tell them what was going to happen.  Carissa was game.  Sean was reluctant.

On the count of three they popped a handful into their mouths...

It took a second...

Carissa loved it and held her hand out for more.  Sean, however, opened his mouth and I was at the ready to either cover it to prevent him from spitting the strawberry rocks out or else holding out my hand to be the recipient of such....

And here I thought crickets and worm suckers were gross...

Sean looked at me and, whatever look I gave on my face in return, must have scared him enough to close his mouth and swallow.

Success....

We left the mall with our wallets intact and some great ideas for Christmas.  Dinner was going to be laid-back as well.... take-out from Long John Silver's.

Hey, when it's "Daddy's Choice"... it's daddy's choice....

We decided to take a walk after dinner...a true family walk that would include Smokey, our days-away from being 15 years old Shepherd/Box mix....

That did not go as planned.

Until tomorrow....

Mommy vs. The Autistic Teen-Ager, Part II

OK, here goes...

I'm much more calm now so I won't be writing "angry" but gosh, it feels so good when I do....

I basically wrote Friday's little tiff off to Sean being tired, bored, cold, etc.  I really wasn't going to make much more of it than the discussion we had in the car on the way home.

And then Saturday came and I changed my mind.

It was going to be a big deal....

It all started so innocently.  Sean was relaying a story from school.  True to his nature for pulling out bits and pieces of his life weeks or months after the fact, when it happened I don't exactly know...

I was only half paying attention to him.  I know that sounds bad but you have to understand that I cannot devote 100% of my listening power to his day-long monologues.

It's simply not possible....

My ears perked when I heard the word "jerk" come from his mouth.

"Huh?"

I asked Sean to repeat his story - something that he is becoming increasingly impatient with me about. 

He told his story and I listened to what he was saying and filled in the lines where things got blurry.  While Sean had no first-hand knowledge of why the children were where they were, he had concocted his own assumptions.

And, being chock-full of 30 years of life experience preceding his birth, I knew he was wrong.

Telling him so would have shut him down.  Instead, I tried explaining to him other circumstances that would find the children in the predicament that they were in.  I was hoping that Sean would eventually take the logical path and come to his new - and probably more accurate - conclusion.

However, Sean's first opinion is oftentimes set in stone.

And... of course... Sean is always right.

We bantered back and forth for a while but then Sean, my autistic son turned into Sean, my teenager.

"Mom, you weren't there and you don't know what you're talking about."

Most of my friends have children older than mine and I'm always ribbing them about the phase where their children tell them they that they don't know anything.

Karma has come to bite me in my butt.

I should have anticipated this day but I was so snowed, so enthralled by my son who loved and adored me unconditionally....

I never saw the teenager lurking behind those gray eyes....

The disagreement became a full-blown, classic, parent vs. teenager stand-off.

I knew nothing and Sean knew it all.

Coupled with Friday's incident, I did know one thing for sure.

Sean - autistic or not - was a teenager.

I quickly threw the "Go to your room" card as a way to end the confrontation and for me to re-group with a new strategy....as well as to wait for Rich.

When Rich got in, we called Sean out of his room and calmly (but sometimes not so quietly) showed him the errors of his ways.

It was one thing to disagree with your mom.  It's another thing to disrespect her.

And I think that's what was so shocking for me.  Did I really believe that he would never do this to me?

Really?

With regards to punishment, we hit him where it hurts the most - the computer.  Grounded for the weekend... yes, the entire weekend.

It seemed like he understood what he did wrong.  His voice tone was actually quite sincere.

So do I believe for one second that he won't do it again?

Not a chance.

He is, after all, only 13....

Mommy vs. The Autistic Teen-Ager, Part I

In the twenty-four hours from Friday afternoon to Saturday, I came to realize that even though autism re-routes his brain, it does not impede one simple truth in life.

Sean is a teen-ager.

And, thus, he will talk back.

I sent him to his room yesterday - not something I do all the time.  In fact, I can't remember the last time I did it.

In his mind, that was his punishment....

In my mind, it was "you better get out of my sight right now"....

I was beyond furious. 

And that whole motherly-understanding, let's step back and think about where he's coming from?  Out the door....see ya!

I was angry.

It all began Friday and what could have very easily been a perfect summer afternoon.  With nothing on the calendar and take-out pizza planned for dinner, I headed to the water park with all three kids in tow looking forward to spending hours not watching the clock from the splash zone.

And it really did go almost as perfectly as it sounded.... 

Sean and Carissa were joined by one of her friends and they did not ditch him at the first taste of freedom.  They had, after all, been warned....

"If you ditch Sean, Mommy will not only kill you but then I'll write about it as well."

Ahhhh, a fate worse than death.... becoming fodder in Mommy's blog.

The older kids checked in when they were supposed to and even "raced"  their little sister on the lazy river.

The sun was out, the weather warm, the water just cool enough to offer comfort... Like I said, a perfect summer afternoon.

Carissa's girlfriend eventually went home and I told the kids that they could have another thirty minutes or so before we would head out ourselves.

Ashley wanted to show the older ones how she could "swim" and do tricks in the big pool while holding on to the side wall.

We headed there and all was good for a few minutes.  Then Carissa wanted to go into the "whirlpool" (a circular area with its own current) and handed me her goggles to hold.  Having goggles on is against the rules in that area...

Where Carissa goes, Ashley will follow.  I asked Sean to hold Carissa's goggles while I took Ashley into the current.  He took them from my hand and placed them down in the water and let go.

Huh?  Maybe he didn't hear me.

I picked them up and again asked him to hold them for me.

He again placed them down and let them go.

OK, maybe he didn't understand.

I picked them up a third time and asked him again to hold them for me.

"Hold them" was not so mommy-politely emphasized.

Sean got a look on his face.  It was just rage...as if I had demanded him to do the impossible.

I knew he was tired.  I knew he was cold.  But all those symptoms had suddenly come on in the last few minutes and all we needed was a 15-second trip in the whirlpool.

He shot back and yelled at me - enough so that other parents in the area turned to look.

I was mortified.

This was not autism in front of me.  This was an angry, defiant teen-ager trying to one-up me and I was not going to have it.

I gave him the goggles and told him, as sternly as I could, to hold them.

I grabbed Ashley and off we went.

A few minutes later we were out of the pool and I had the kids lounge on their towels to dry off for a bit in the sun before getting back into the car.

Sean complained the entire time.

"When are we going home?"

I tried "soon."  I tried having him watch the clock.

Nothing worked.

Not until we walked out through the gate did his entire demeanor change.

Now that's the autism.....

I asked Sean in the car if it was a wise choice to argue with me.  He said no...  Knowing that he wanted to leave, did he save any time by arguing with me?  No.

Did it take longer to argue with me or to simply hold the goggles?

What would he do if it happens again?

He knew all the right answers and yet he couldn't pull them from the depths of his brain when he needed them.

Looking back, between the autism and the angry, hormonally-imbalanced, testosterone-infused teen-ager inside of him, I don't think Sean was capable at the moment that it happened to find the proper path to take.

I hope it was a learning experience... for both us.

Tomorrow I'll let you in on Part 2... and why he was sent to his room.

Nerf n Surf

The obliteration of Lego Cinderella continued late in to the evening with Carissa producing an endless stream of models and Sean's firepower growing in strength and magnitude.

Totality of destruction was his ultimate goal.

What did poor Cinderella ever do to deserve such a demise?

And...was the super huge Nerf gun really necessary?  I worried about the safety of my drywall....

Oh the joys of being a child and not a homeowner....

We did take a break to go to the local water park yesterday afternoon.  It wasn't the warmest of days and we had just under an hour before we needed to be back home so I could get ready for work.

The park is not that large and late in the afternoon it's generally only residents.  Carissa and Sean ran off together, happy to be out of mom's watchful eye.  Ashley and I hit the little kids' areas.

I always send them off with the same instructions...  No deep end.  No toilet-bowl (an inverted cone slide that dumps the kids out of the bottom).

Call me strict.  Call me overbearing.  Call me over-protective...

I don't care.

They are my kids.

They also know what time they have to check in with me.  There's a big clock on the wall of the pool house so there's no excuse.

Yesterday, as the two of them were walking past the baby pool, I heard my name being called.  I've lived in this town my whole life so knowing someone at the water park is not unusual.

I looked up to see who had summoned me only to see my son waving from the walkway.

Oh, that's right.  I forgot.

Sean calls me "Frances" in public.

It startles most people when he does that.  Whether it's at a Boy Scout event or at the grocery store, I'll hear "Frances" ring out.

Some might think I'm offended or disrespected but Sean actually has an extremely logical reason for doing so.

According to him, if he calls out "Mom" then a bunch of people turn.  "Frances" is meant only for me.

He's been doing it for as long as I can remember.

Now, is that absolutely clever or does Sean secretly believe that he's putting one over on me?

Does that make him feel cool?

I don't know but I am amused by his little habit.

After Sean called my name, we did our version of sign language to communicate that they had ten minutes left.

Which is another topic to discuss another day.... counting down so Sean knows there's a transition coming.

And then off they went... Happy to have the freedom.  Happy to have the sun out and the water be not so cold.

Would I send Sean off with his friends?  No.  But with Carissa, my future-mom-in-training, I know she'll keep him in line.

More importantly, though, is the fact that Carissa will not hesitate to nark on him should he disobey my rules.

Ahhh... my little grasshopper.  I have trained her well....

Where's The White Knight When You Need Him?

Hmmmm.....

Does executing a Lego Cinderella using a flying, screaming monkey (and cow!), constitute "cooperative play"?

Oh, no.  Poor Cinderella.  Looks like Nerf guns are in your future....

Today all three children are playing together - the perfect world which undoubtedly will result in the perfect storm. 

The only question that remains is who will cry first?

The concept of "cooperative play" has always been one that puzzled me.  Sean is the only boy in the family.  Do I expect him to sit with the girls and be Ken on the Barbie Dreamboat?  Do I expect him to play Prince Charming when the girls are playing Sparkling Princesses?

No... I don't.

He's a boy and though he's grown up in a Polly Pocket world, he is all testosterone.

One of my favourite moments when he was growing up occurred when Carissa was playing with her My Little Pony Castle.  It came with a hot air balloon... supposedly for gently floating over some imaginary Pony Land.

I doubt the manufacturers planned it as an escape pod as Sean's tank bore down upon the unsuspecting, innocent ponies.

Whenever I am asked about the ultra-huge milestone of cooperative play by some professional, I always tell that story.

Seriously, they're siblings... how cooperative can I expect them to be?

This summer we're going to try, for lack of another name, some "play dates" for Sean.  The lucky recipient of an invitation to Sean's domain will be a boy from town the same age.

Can I call him Sean's "friend"?  Not exactly.

Sean has "known" this boy for a couple of years and yet neither knows his name nor his face.

Will they play catch out in the backyard?  Will they talk interactively or will Sean dominate the pseudo-conversation with his monologues and the other boy simply tune him out?

Or, will they sit side-by-side at the desk while one watches the other capture the enemy in a single-player computer game?

Can two kids playing a 2-person, interactive video game really be defined as cooperatively playing?

Tough question, huh?

Or at least it is for me.

For now, my children fit the definition... even if it is at the peril of poor Cinderella.

Summer Sun And No Routine To Be Found

Yesterday was the long awaited first day of summer vacation.  So anticipated... so looked-forward to...

Then why was I complaining about not having a moment to myself on my Facebook page??

Any first - even a good first such as a trip to Six Flags amusement park or the first day of summer break - is fraught with unknowns.

What time should they be up?  Will they change their breakfast routine?  What about having to run necessary errands like grocery shopping?

How will Sean adjust?

Better yet, what the heck will he do with all that free time?

Knowing that Sean barely holds himself together to get through the final weeks of school, we have been adament about keeping him out of summer school and scheduled activities.

Not even gymnastics is on the calendar.

Therapy barely makes the grade.

Overall, we try to stay low-key and go with the flow of how the day is going.

Yesterday was not going well... or, at least, the morning wasn't.

Sean loves to get up before everyone else in the household.  Somehow in the DNA mix, he got the only early-riser gene.

Once he was old enough to pour his own cereal, I was content to lay in bed half-asleep keeping tabs on his whereabouts in the house by the noises that were being made or the dogs following him around. 

After we got the computer, there was only one place to find him... semi-slumped over the desk, intent on whatever game he was playing.

Call me a bad mother but I do not limit my children's computer time.  They rarely sit on their butts long enough to watch a television show all the way through and books that they are reading are constantly strewn about the house.

And, of course, once the weather breaks, I kick them out on a regular basis to the ultimate unknown for children of this generation... the backyard.

Thus, computer time is not something that we generally do battle over.

But when I say it's time to get off, you better get off.

That's when yesterday's meltdown happened....

I suspected Sean had been playing his new video game for about 3 hours.  It's a strategy type and takes a very long time on our ancient computer to set-up and load.

Ashley was begging for her siblings to play with her.

"Sean, it's time to play with Ashley."

No harsh words, no angry tones... just a simple statement.

The tears were instantaneous and the sobs were heartfelt.  He claimed he had been working  hard to attain the next level and he was almost there.

I thought about telling him that I really didn't care... but you know.... I did.

And it was, after all, the first day of summer break.

Did I really want to start off the summer this way?

I told him he could finish it and within five minutes he was done. 

Did he play with Ashley more than annoy her?  Probably not but at least he tried.

I eventually sent all three of them outside so I could have a moment to myself... to think... to pee.  Within moments they were back inside complaining.

Again, I opened the door and introduced them to the sun and the grass... things that in the Chicago area you only see a few months of the year. 

And then I introduced them to the garden hose...

Let the fun and a new routine begin and let's hope the meltdowns will be few...

Welcome to Summer!