The Ultimate Job... Life Guard

Wow!  What a weekend!!!  I'm not even quite sure where to start today so how about I begin with a huge THANK YOU to everyone out there???

On Saturday the blog hit 5000 page views.... WOW!  If anyone is keeping track (OK, me!), that's in 101 days.  Incredible!!!

I remember when it was coming close to 300.  I was at work that night and all I could think about was when it was going to happen.  Tonight?  Tomorrow?  I simply couldn't imagine such a huge number.

And then when it hit 1000 page views, I cried.  I couldn't believe it.

Now it's 5000 and I am still in disbelief.  This blog would be nothing if it weren't for all of you who read it, post it, pass it along.... 

You have made My Name Is Not Autism what it is today - 5100 page views in 335 cities, across 14 different countries.  Amazing....

So thank you, my friends.  Thank you.

Enough of the love fest.... on to Sean....

Like I said, I don't even know where to begin today.  So many things bopping through my head....

I just dropped him off at school.  Yes, I remembered his watch!  And, with the temperatures soaring into the upper 80's, I also remembered the deodorant.

Yea!  A good day for me....

He seems off this morning and I'm not sure why.  Carissa is euphoric over heading into the final stretch of school.  Nine days and counting...  Sean, however, seems exhausted with the idea of returning to the rigors of academia. 

Other than gymnastics practice and a graduation party on Saturday, we kept his extended weekend fairly low-key.  We gave him plenty of computer time - although he was certainly annoyed when someone else needed the desktop to complete a task.  His only chore was picking up the dog poop in the yard - something that he had to be rushed through on Sunday before the storms hit.  Ever since Whizzer died last year (my 14- year old, black Siberian Husky mix), Sean has encountered his own recession.  At ten cents a pile, and his supply cut in half, he has found his job not as financially rewarding as it once was.

Once the storms passed on Sunday, the sun and heat emerged for Memorial Day.  The local pools were open and Carissa asked if we could go swimming.

Having stayed up past 2 am on Sunday night/Monday morning to watch a movie with Rich and Ashley waking me up at 6:30 am, I was more in the mood for sitting on my butt than splashing around.

However, Rich came up with an excellent solution.  He would drop Sean and Carissa off at the pool for some much-needed away time from the parental unit, and then meet them there an hour later with Ashley.  I would get mommy-time to relax, nap, do whatever I please.

Sounds like a win-win to me!!!  I take them to the pool almost every day during the summer so skipping out on one trip would not cause an un-recoverable deficit for my tan.  Besides, there is nothing better than torturing oneself by doing intervals on the exercise bike while watching a Barry Manilow concert on DVD.  I am all about mommy-time!!!!

Dropping the kids off at the pool is something that we started late last summer.  And it was Carissa, not Sean, that was able to visit the pool first with her friends.  Of course, I was nervous but I work for the park district... I know a number of staff.  If Carissa was going to misbehave, I was going to hear about it.

Letting Sean go with Carissa was something entirely different.  Will he pay enough attention and stick by her?  Will she stick by him or ditch him at the first sight of one of her friends?  Will they get along?  Will they conspire to be unruly?

"No toilet bowl, no deep end" I would say as they would leave.  The "toilet bowl" is a big, swirling, dump you into the drink, kind of attraction.  I've done it once - and was terrified to find myself completely disoriented under water.

They would answer "I know, I know" and leave me at the car with hardly a glance back.  Off they would go, practically giddy to be without the ever-watchful eyes of mom upon them.

Even though I was a wreck while they were gone, they had a fabulous time.

Thus, a new age of independence was born.

Years ago, could I have ever imagined a day where I would drop Sean off with anyone at the pool?  Could I have ever imagined not being there every single second of his world?

No.....  I couldn't.

And while I watch Carissa grow and become more independent... wanting to go here or there with her friends... I don't have the luxury of an established break-in period that I should have had for a second child.  She has overtaken Sean in spreading her wings and concurrently shredding the apron strings.

I'm glad she's there.  She will probably be more of an influence on him growing up than me.  Sean will see what Carissa is doing and want to do the same.

Of course, that will not always be a good thing.  So I guess I get to keep my job of overbearing mom for a little while longer.

It is, after all, just the pool.

It's not like he's driving... yet.

Writing Angry.... Not So Much

I wanted to post yesterday but Rich said I shouldn't.

"You're angry.  You don't write well when you're angry."

"Oh.... how do I write then?" I asked thinking of how many bouquets from the grocery store this was going to garner.

"You write angry..."

Hmmmm... I thought I was simply being real.  A good days, bad days kind of thing.

I was exhausted and overwhelmed so I did what needed to get done and went to bed early (if 12:45 am can be called "early").

Yesterday was all about details.  Details, details, details.  Our lives revolve around details - no different than parents of typical kids.

But when we forget one, it could lead to a meltdown, a bad day, a loss of goals.  It could mean the difference between integrating now or integrating later or possibly never.

Thus, details - even the most minute - take on an Everest-sized significance.

Today it's 10:30 am and I just cracked my second Pepsi and my car is on E.  It's going to be a long day.

But it will be nothing like yesterday....

I was up and running long before I usually am.  Sean had a recipe contest/demonstration speech to do at school.  I couldn't cook well if Julia Child was cloned into my DNA.  Thus, Sean decided to demonstrate how his mom makes microwave popcorn... as opposed to how Dad makes real popcorn and starts a kitchen fire.

The premise was actually quite amusing.

But it meant me making bag after bag of microwave popcorn and portioning them off into individual Ziplocs for the all the tasters before 7am.  Popcorn for breakfast, anyone?  Then came the toughest part of the task - at Sean's insistence - cramming all of it PLUS books PLUS his lunchbox into his backpack!

So much for fluffy white puffs....

While I was pretending to be Orville Redenbacher, Sean was getting dressed.  It was cold - lower 40's - so I pulled out a pair of red sweatpants for him to wear.  He has other colours - black, gray - but the red ones fit him well and I figured he would ditch them for the shorts that I knew he was going to wear underneath as soon as time allowed.

If he's going to lose something at school, I'd rather it not be his good clothes...

I let him choose his shirt...

He came into the kitchen wearing his favourite t-shirt....  The green one.

Christmas once again...

Back again to the bedroom to help him pick out a shirt.  Deodorant?  Not until I tell him...

All this is going on while I wake Carissa up and do my best to not forget any of the details of her life.  Manning the school store means she'll have to be dropped off early.  Don't forget the permission slips for French and chorus - the two specialty classes she'll be taking when she attends the junior high in the fall.  Oh, and the big 5th grade outing to the water park... don't forget to put that slip into her backpack.

Her school has a full day of workshops at the end of the year for the children - cake decorating, soccer, kite making, meet the police dog, etc - and I have been one of the helpers preparing things at home.

The bag containing the last of those projects needs to go to school and be dropped at the front office.

Yet another detail.....

It was a maddening morning but everything was falling into place.  You would think that much could have been achieved the night before but I had to work late.  Not everything can be done or discussed before going to bed in my world.

Thus, my morning...

Like I said, it was frantic but things were coming along.

And then I dropped Sean off at school.  He slammed the car door and then fast-walked through the rain.

We left his watch at home.

"&^%#!"

With the integration meeting for the fall a mere 24 hours away, all I could think of was Sean getting in trouble for running in the halls because we had forgotten his watch.

"Please don't..." I said aloud in my car as I drove away.

I don't know who I was more angry with at that moment... myself for forgetting a detail or the details themselves.

My mind was spinning.  I decided to call it a day and do something that I didn't have to think about.

Laundry and dishes... here I come!

Sometimes when Life is so full of unknowns, getting that last bit of laundry folded and put away, or the last dish dried and in the cabinet, can be oh so satisfying.....

As it turns out, everything went OK.  The speech was amusing.  Papers were turned in on time.  The day of workshops proceeding as planned.

And integration is.... well....

A couple of hours ago, we learned that Sean will be going full-time to the junior high come August.  It's well ahead of schedule and certainly something that, at times, we didn't dare to dream.

I guess then the worry and anger of yesterday were all for nothing.

But, actually, they were for something....

I got my laundry and dishes done. 

Sometimes, you have to wonder... Who could ask for anything more?

*****
Have a safe and enjoyable holiday weekend everyone!  See you next week....

One Less Unsolved Mystery

Hi Everyone!

Here is the blog version of an update show....

Sean's picking of the skin on his arms that was so - might I say - brilliantly solved by myself with the act of giving him three quarters to put in his pockets has come back.

Once it was shorts weather, the tell-tale marks began to appear.  At first, it was a few on his arms and some on his legs.  While his arms aren't nearly as bad as they once were (hundreds and hundreds of marks), his legs are now taking the brunt of his habit.

I'm not sure exactly what to do.  With 12 days left of school I'm reluctant to attempt any kind of intervention.  Could it be stress and they will disappear with the lazy days of summer? 

I do catch him every now and then picking his skin at home.  But, for the most part, I think it's related to school.  Maybe it's not so much due to the rigors of academics but more likely, it gives him something to do during the down time that he has.  He claims he picks alot on the bus.  He has a book to read and a notebook and pencil to capture his thoughts.  Yet, he chooses to pick.

I don't know what to do at this point.  I will keep you informed of how he is doing or if genius strikes again and I come up with a solution.

****

The verdict is still out about whether going without the melatonin at night is proving a plus or a minus.  I'm not quite sure when he's falling asleep.  Last night, in particular, I heard him fussing about after 11 pm.  In my world, that's fairly late on a school night.

Giving him some say when it comes to making decisions is definitely something that we prefer to do.  And I certainly don't want to force anything upon him. 

Overall, I think it's going to be OK.  Is he sleeping as much?  No....    Funny thing though, I think he's less grumpy at night.  Maybe the melatonin was making him so sleepy that he was short-fused at bedtime.

With summer just around the corner and the culture of the house being more night-owl than early-riser, it will probably be next fall before we know if going Melatonin-free is for the best.

Until then, I'm keeping them on hand....

*****

Going to junior high has had its own set of growing pains.  Who knew we needed note cards for an oral report?  I was just short of livid when the mid-quarter progress report came home and Sean was getting a 'C' in his newest class.  A couple of emails later and it was determined that Sean had not handed in an assignment.  I'm not sure what he was thinking since it was in his folder the entire time.  After handing it in his grade went from a 'C' to an 'A-'.  Sean's thoughts on the change? 

"I never knew that skipping an assignment would mean so much."

It's all a part of learning - not only for him, but for us as well.

*****

On a final, funny note.... I have learned the mystery behind the 3-year old stick of deodorant.  In the Funky Town post I wondered how one single stick could last so long...  It turns out, he's not using it!!!  At all....  You would think that a college-educated woman would figure that out sooner than I did.  But I assumed after instructing him day after day for a year or more to "deodorize" (short speak for "put your deodorant on") that he would have had the habit ingrained and I would no longer have to remind him.

So I stopped....

And so did he.

Sean walked past me the other day and the air that wafted by was.... unique.  I said something to the effect of...

"Don't you put on deodorant every day?"

And Sean said, "No."

"Why????"

"Because you don't tell me to."

Oh, the ugly head of Autism and it's literalness has reared itself once again... and this time it stinks!

I took him into his room and attempted, between all the squirming and giggling, to demonstrate how to put on the deodorant.

Will he ever get it?  Again, I don't know. 

He finally knows that he has to wear underwear to go out.  Did it really take years for that one simple thing to make it through to him?

Gosh, I know that I keep saying "I don't know" but it's true.  I don't.  I can't remember every detail, recall every event.  And even if I could... and I had the answers yesterday...  Would those answers still work today?

I don't know.

And that's probably more about being human and individuals than being autistic.

Because Life would certainly be boring then.  Don't you think?

A Castle In A Land Not So Far Away

I am completely on edge today.  I’m not sure if it’s been the frenetic pace of the last few weeks or a much deeper, closer to the heart thing.

The month of May has been rough.  Fundraisers, scouting events, end-of-the-year activities, preschool graduation…  It seems as if I have had little time to let my hair down.

When you have kids in school, May is not about living… it’s about surviving.  It’s the Mom (or Dad!) in the Minivan who is the ultimate Survivor… and we don’t have to eat bugs to do it.

We get through one day after another, one packed lunch at a time.  Rarely do we have a chance to quiet the chaos.

But today, I took some time for myself.  I left the scrunchy at home and literally let my hair down.  I went and got a haircut.  My friend has done my hair for the last 20 years.  She is well worth the half hour drive north.

Ashley, however, had little patience for mommy’s pampering and couldn’t wait to get back home.

In fact, the entire return trip she sat in her car seat and whined and cried. 

It was when I drove up the off-ramp of the expressway and said, “Ashley, look… castles” I realized that I was re-living a Sean moment.

We dreaded taking Sean anywhere in the car when he was younger.  He would scream and scream. 

Baby can’t sleep?  Oh, take them for a ride in the car …

Yea, right.  NOT!

Having him face backward in the car was equivalent to torture – for both of us.  I remember sitting next to him and trying to breastfeed him while Rich drove. 

We were desperate and would try anything….

When he was old enough to be turned around, we thought he’d calm down.  Sean could now look out the windows and we could spend quality time in the car playing I Spy or looking for cars that were blue or red….

Ummmm…. Not so much.

Most times it was unbearable. 

Nothing soothed him.  Sean didn’t want the music on.  We couldn’t even talk.  Our time in the car was all about being quiet and getting from Point A to Point B as fast as the law would allow.

The “castles” became our first glimmer of hope.  They are the cone-shaped buildings where our village’s salt supply is stored and are the first things you see when you come up the expressway off-ramp on the way home.

“Look!  The castles!”

Then one day, Sean looked.

And he quieted down.

A running commentary of landmarks began to build.

IKEA, the old library, the junior high…  all meant to assure Sean that our journey home was soon coming to an end.

But none meant more than the castles.

Even though they are a couple miles from our house, they always meant “home” for Sean.

They were the first things that he recognized.  For years as the crying continued, they were the bastions of hope to which we clung to – drove to - for the calm that would result.

I don’t know why Sean disliked the car so much.  Was it the vibrations, the noise, the other cars whizzing past so quickly?

Who knows?  But it’s been awhile since I called out to those castles to save me from a crying child.

Until today… when they not only caught Ashley’s attention, but also reminded me of how far Sean has come.

He was so far away from us for so long. 

But now he’s almost home…. 

We can see the castles. 

Sean, you’re almost home.

The End Is Near... Of Being 12 Years Old

Another weekend gone…. 

And no, I don’t know where it went!

Sean turned 13 on Saturday.  What a day!  Turning 13 and the world possibly ending – two momentous occasions crammed into one 24-hour period.

Or so we thought….

As usual, Sean had gymnastics practice in the morning.  I was exhausted and not-so-secretly hoped that Sean was sleeping in on his birthday.  The sound of Cheerios hitting the bowl let me know that he wasn’t.

Groan….

I’m a little foggy on the details but I think I owe Rich $10 for getting out of bed and driving Sean to the gym.

Rich even ran some errands and brought home bagels.  Bonus!!!

After Sean arrived home from practice (again, thanks to Rich… I could be up to $20 now), we watched the minutes tick by and allowed him to open his present at exactly 10:21 am.

The time is significant for two reasons…. First, that is the moment he was born.  And second, if the world was going to end at 6pm EST, then we at least wanted Sean to get some playtime in.

Sean was eager to open the skillfully wrapped-in-the-day’s-sports-section gift.  Could the box contain the coveted Blitzkrieg 2 videogame that he had researched and decided upon to be the gift of the year months ago?

Ahhhhh, that would be a “no”….

Sort of.

Instead, it was a shiatsu neck massager with heat!  Woo Hoo!!!

Not exactly on the top of any 13 year-olds’ must-have list but invaluable to a family that is plagued with daily pleas to rub one’s neck.

We must have trained him well to deal with disappointment.  Sean took one look and said “Geez, thanks.”

Good job, kid.

We let him stew for about ten minutes and then we directed Sean to open the box so we could plug the massager in and check it out.

The look of puzzlement as he opened the box to reveal a package of beef jerky was priceless.

“What?”

Then the smile crossed his face and he knew he had been duped.

Yes, there indeed was a shiatsu massager in the box, as well as two packages of beef jerky, the entire series of Ed, Edd & Eddy on DVD, a videogame that I can’t recall the name of, and, of course, Blitzkrieg 2.

Sean was shocked and one very happy 13 year-old.

Now, as you might expect, the pleasant mood did not continue for the rest of the day.

Even though it was just the two grandmas, people came over.  And going out for the bike that one grandma bought?  Well, that was ‘going somewhere’ on a day when Sean simply wanted to park himself in front of the computer screen and go nowhere.

He was off.  He was grumpy.  And, if you didn’t know his tone, he was rude.

But it was Sean’s day and we needed to give him some slack.  As his parents, it was not only our job to make this day special for him, but also to get him through.

And get him through we did.

As the clock passed midnight and Sean finally fell into an exhausted sleep, we were all happy to have, in the end, a very successful day.

We survived.

In fact, the whole world did….

A day to celebrate indeed!

Found Focus

At the end of yesterday's post I wrote about dirty clothes in Sean's room.  Last night Rich asked, "How did you go from talking about ham sandwiches to dirty clothes?"

I guess that's how my mind has been this month (notice I didn't say "week").

Scattered.  Unfocused.

In other words, completely unlike Sean.

Ashley is 5 years old and very demanding.  I try to sit and write while she's playing quietly but inevitably, the call will come for a popsicle, a tissue, a "mommy moment."

I couldn't focus on something more than 10 minutes if I wanted to.

So it was yesterday, nearing the end of my post, that "M-o-m-m-y" (she's beginning to spell) rang out from the bathroom.  After I attended to her, I walked past Sean's room.

It is then that I spied the pile of dirty clothes.

A more-than-frustrated sigh escaped from me and my only thought was, "Did I not tell him to get his dirty clothes and he came out with an armful?"

I gathered the pile up and dumped them in the washing machine.

Yet another battle to be fought....

And this one doesn't have anything to do with ham sandwiches, Sean's texture issues, and my own mommy guilt.

It's about the literalness that comes with autism.

You see.... I told Sean to get his dirty clothes out of the cubby in his loft bed.

I did not tell him to get the clothes that were on the floor.

Therefore, he didn't....

Was I angry with him yesterday?  For a split-second, yes.  And then I realized what I had said... and not said.

In my unfocused, over-tired, overwhelmed world, I had forgotten.

Thus, the battle that rages on is not with sandwiches or dirty laundry or getting a grip on my life.

It is with Autism.

So bring it on Autism.  Bring it on. 

Give me what you got because I got more....

I have the love for my son....

And that is the most powerful weapon of all.

A Dagwood Defeat

16 days left....

I pack Sean's lunch this morning and think....

32 granola bars.  16 bags of carrots.  32 Hershey Kisses.

Over the years, little has changed.  Bottle of water, 2 granola bars - 1 crunchy, 1 chewy, 2 Hershey Kisses, a bag of pretzels, a container of Wheat Thins, and a clementine/orange.

Sean may go through a phase where he wants a French roll, a bag of spinach, or...the ultimate challenge for me.... a ham sandwich.

I think he finishes most of his lunch.  Years ago I got a call from school saying that he was tossing his sandwich every day.

Yep... EVERY DAY!

I have a strict rule with the kids.  Anything uneaten has to come home.  I simply want to know.

You can say I'm a control freak... but I'm a mom.  I think the terms are interchangeable.

But back to the sandwich....

Sean has a 'thing' when it comes to sandwiches.  Actually, he has so many 'things' that I have given up on trying to appease him.

He was never a sandwich kid when he was little.  I don't think he liked the texture of the bread and sliced meat simply grossed him out.

I remember one day buying a variety of luncheon meats and breads at the store.  I was going to have the ultimate sandwich taste-off.

Fail.  Fail.  Fail.

A growing boy can only survive so long without a sandwich for lunch, right?  A few years ago I insisted that Sean begin taking a sandwich.  He does, after all, eat sandwiches on camp outs with the Boy Scouts.

I don't go through all that much bread and with the weather out here, things tend to mold fast, so I freeze my loaves.  I bring out a piece or two, make the frozen sandwich, and by lunchtime at school it's all good.

While I wrote "make the frozen sandwich".... for Sean, it's much more than slapping a piece of ham between two pieces of Wonder. 

No crusts....

OK, most kids are like that...

No meat over the sides.  EVER.

You might think, "Hey, cut the crusts off and you'll be fine."  But, no....  that would leave the meat too close to the edge.  It might pop out and then Sean would literally have to gag.

Yep... literally... the kid has an amazing reflex!

Thus, most mornings you would find me cutting up the slice of ham and placing the pieces on the bread like I was playing a game of Tetras.

All for my kid.

And then the call came.

Sean was tossing them out.

At least it was better than the note home I received one day informing me that Sean threw out his sandwich because he thought the bread was moldy.

I was mortified.

And it was a brand new loaf.  I thought I would try something different and give him a treat - fresh bread.

I should have known better.  I really should have....

But alas, after this latest ongoing toss-fest that he was having with our grocery budget, I decided to call it quits.

No more sandwich.

The mommy guilt was definitely present.  How could I?  I'm starving my child...  But I have to be realistic.  The kid simply doesn't want a sandwich from mom.

Oh, well....

This battle is over.  Sean has won.  I will take my Wonder and head back into the kitchen.  Defeated.

And then I go into Sean's room this morning.  I spy a pile of dirty clothes stuffed in the corner.

I know my memory is failing, but did I not ask Sean to gather his clothes before school today so I can do laundry?

Hmmm.....

Sean may have won the Battle of the Bread but I will win this war.

Game on.  Bring it!