Signs you're maybe a Mommy

10. Right now there's a diaper, kids underwear, wipes, a hot wheel, a girls hair tie, a crayon, and a candy in your purse somewhere.

9. You will step on a noisy painful toy at 2 am in the morning no matter how careful you think you are being.

8. You will never leave the house on time ever again.

7. After 2 kids, they all become a generic "you" or "kid". They're all misbehaving somehow right?

6. You can't remember what you were saying. What?

5. You dry yourself off with a "shark" hooded towel after a quick shower.

4. Your voicemail has a closer relationship to those few that still call you regularly than they do you. Most people have forgotten the sound of your voice over a phone.

3. You can NEVER EVER hide. The tiny dictators will find you. You will never have the bathroom to yourself- again. Ever.

2. You bathe, eat, and exercise at weird times throughout the day whenever the opportunity arises.

1. You're serving a life sentence and it's both awesome and awful depending on the week, day, hour, or second.

The 6th Birthday Letter

I've written my son a letter every year on his birthday. This year I'm posting it on my blog. One day he will get to read them. Perhaps when he's older, when he becomes a father, or maybe when I've died. I hope he knows these 3 things remain constant throughout the years that have passed and those to come: I love him, I'm proud of him, and he will always be my baby.

Dear Buddy Boy:

Today you turned 6. The morning did not start off too well. You were 20 minutes late to school. We had 2 time outs before we left the house. Boy were you cranky. We rushed down the block in sweatpants and a polo shirt because your dress pants weren't clean. Mommy's fault. I crossed my fingers and hoped the rest of the day went better for you.

It did! At the end of the day you rushed out of those doors right to me, grinning, giggling, wearing this ridiculous birthday crown and birthday stickers. The utter joy that is you all bundled into that smile and exploded out of the glint in your eyes. Oh the love I feel for you! There aren't words to express or fully explain. It is just love, simply put. Huge and encompassing all that I am and all I ever want to be.

I became a mother 6 years ago today. It was a role that I had always feared and yet desperately wanted. For close to 9 months I was poked and prodded in places better left unnamed. My a$$ was purple throughout most of the time you were summersaulting in my uterus. That week in the hospital I would unwrap you and just look at your toes, your fingers, your eyes. Just you and me, and you were utterly my son.

By the way, I forgive you for calling me stupid and world's worst mami this morning. You're just like your daddy, making me laugh even when I'm mad at you. Te quiero baby.

Love,
Mami

Doing well, no Awesome.

The kiddos school has a big brother/big sister program for reading. They pair up the kindergarteners with a 5th grade class to help teach them reading etc. My kiddo hadn't been paired with someone until today because we wanted to give him a couple of weeks to get used to the routine of changing classrooms and the expected activity. 

 

His BSC and TSS were there. He didn't need them. JD was able to stay on task and was engaged through out the whole activity.  His BSC texted me about it because this is such a big deal. I must admit I got teary eyed. I am so incredibly proud of him everyday but more so on days he overcomes his disability.

 

Too often we focus on the challenges and the barriers that inhibit their inclusion into neuro typical peer activities. We tend to focus on the negatives because they are what we're tackling next. But I want to take time off today to celebrate the positives.

 

What's going well in my 5 year old's world?

• He's so bleeping present and engaged with everything.
• He's using self affirmations to deal with the anxiety and rules.
• He's using words to express his feelings without prompts.
• He's excelling academically.
• He's adjusting so well to a new everything at school- staff, environment, new TSS (1-1 aide), new rules etc.
• He's playing nicely in the playground with classmates.
• He's phenomenal at building legos.
• Plus he remains an excellent hugger.
• And he's a bit (a lot) of a smarta$$.  (he's our kid, of course he is)

I'm so incredibly blessed to have a 5 year old boy who is just the love of my life. He's simply Awesome and a bit of a smart a#$$. If I could bottle up that incredible emotion and sell it, I'd be a billionaire. I write this not to gush about my kid (well maybe an insy bitsy bit) but also to give you hope. This has not happened overnight. But we've also given him time to be a little boy. We have to remember they are people 1st. They are not just their "label".

 

We've screwed up some, maybe lots. But we've never been scared to try something no matter how crazy it sounded- we did dietary interventions, vitamin supplements, detoxed baths (Epsom salt, salt, vinegar, oils). People were like "ya'll are cray cray" and we'd be like "nah, nah, nah, sticks and stones."  But to us, to not question and blindly accept no cure, nothing to be done as fact seems crazy.  So if you think or hear about say sock monkey therapy and it seems to help, we'll probably give it a try too. Because (mostly me), I'm a bit crazy in love with my kids and desperate to try anything to get them to overcome their challenges.  If I give up then I let the negative win and I know he's capable of anything. He just needs time to shine and extra support.

 

So in summary, my kid is doing well. And I'm so freakin proud. I'd probably throw a party if I wasn't so exhausted.

This week in review

This is kiddo's first full week of school. He also had his 1st "tantrum" / "mini meltdown". We were waiting for them- on pins and needles really. We knew they would happen. And that's the tough part of inclusion. Because you know they're going to have a mini meltdown or tantrum and you know there will be kicking/screaming/crying what have you's and you know the typical peers will observe. And maybe they'll go home and tell their parents and well then you want to protect him from the gossipy judgy parents.

Personally I could give a sh*t, I'm not one to give a crap what people think and I have no time for BS. Judgy gossipy people suck especially when you've got a kiddo who can feel their criticism and who just wants to be liked. When kids call him a "weirdo" in the playground or wherever we're at, my medusa snake hair gets unsettled and only the thought that they're kids keeps them safe from my wrath but they definitely get the "you are not a kind person" look and their parents get the "WTF kind of parent are you that you don't correct it? How can you be teaching or allowing intolerance? Get off your butts, put the damn cell phones down and be  f*king parent!" look. I can't stand lazy parenting.

F*ck it, he's going to have a meltdown, yes he has autism, get over it. Your kid isn't perfect either Ms. I have a texting addiction on my new 1 inch bigger phone. Don't you know size doesn't matter?  It's how you use it sister? But he's got killer social skills, he knows the proper back and forth of a conversation, he knows good social behaviors vs bad. And he will one day understand that not everyone is nice and that hopefully won't change who he is or make him as sarcastic and porcupiney as his mommy. My job is to teach him how to be a good person and to teach him coping skills with this crazya$$ world that thinks common core math makes any damn sense and in this world where building a damn fenced wall around borders is helping in anyway.

His teachers provided feedback on how he's doing, while nice to hear, it didn't surprise me. That's just who he is:
A child from the autistic support classroom was pulled in for the learning activities and was having a difficult time transitioning. Anxiety. My kiddo stepped up, said: "it's okay to be upset." and he then modeled the correct behavior and proceeded to show his classmate how to do the activity. See that didn't surprise me. That's my kiddo, that's who he is. Underneath the hyper impulsive child, is a kid who loves to help and laugh. But it surprised his special ed teacher and his 1-1 aide. I wish other parents would take time to see him for who he is. I wish they would see beyond his disability. And my life long challenge and commitment-- is to scream inclusion until they get it, until inclusion is the "norm". Until my kid is the "norm" and the judgy biotches shut their damn mouths.

#endrant

Parenting

The hardest part of parenting is not knowing if you're doing it right. Or how badly you're screwing it up.  If only I could look into the future and see how it would all turn out. The unknown is scary as a parent. My daily prayer is "Please God don't let me F- this up too much."

It hurts to see your kiddo struggle. It hurts to see him unable to control his body and bring it back under control. Nothing has hurt me worse than when my little 5 year old boy described how much he felt his body was "broken" because he couldn't stop himself from making bad choices (misbehave) or his impulsive behaviors.

I don't want to romanticize my emotions but really it floored me and it hurt so much because its partly my fault. Yes, its my fault that at times I suck at being a mom. Times when I can't control my own impulsive behavior and when I should remove myself for a time out-- those times when I'm so frustrated that I end up screaming and throwing my own temper tantrum.

We ended up discussing "No David!" by David Shannon. He loves that book and really it's a great way to discuss how we're really just loving them even when it seems that all we do is yell at them. We cuddled and group hugged and he went on his day. But it has remained on my mind. A day latter and I'm still shook up about how he's feeling about himself. I wonder should I take him to the psychologist to discuss or if I should work on ways to build his self esteem. So many ways to doubt yourself as a parent and the worry can drive you nuts.

This parenting shit ain't for the light hearted or those who only think they want to be parents. And I'd like to think that those of us who second guess or who worry are the ones who are striving to be better parents and better people. But maybe that's just how I fool myself into thinking that I'm doing okay.

Mundane life and normal is relative.

My facebook feed is full of back to school pictures. I'm torn between complaining about this stinking humidity, mourning the end of summer, or worrying about the school year. August is over, our stress free month: free of therapies, free of the endless paper trail left behind 2 main diagnoses. The kids had lots of sleep overs, lots of playgrounds, lunch with the grandmoms, pool time in the backyard, walks, endless free play. August was so much fun. It was almost like having a "normal summer".

And now, we're back to the anticlimactic mundane routine. I'm trying to iron out their Fall schedule. Soccer, swimming, dance, and therapies all must be fit in. Thursday nights I need to be at swim and at dance, I'll have to clone myself and that's all there is to it.  Some other activities that the 5 year asked for are a lego club, baseball, and golf. Golf? Seriously kid? You cheat at mini golf but you wanna try golf?

Oh and the therapies. Sigh. Will there ever come a time when we are therapy free? I am very cognizant of how trivial and mundane these worries may seem. The progress we've had-- Wait for it, Extraordinary. (Please read that as if Neil Patrick Harris said it in his Barney from "How I Met Your Mother" voice. But still to some, my worries are trivial. Troubles after all are trivial. And normal is relative. I am glad of the mundane. Each day that I am their mother, I am blessed and I fall a little more in love with these kids. I am amazed by them. Yes, I am raising them, but I am learning more from them than they learn from me.

But still, getting back to my mundane subject: I want to figure out this Fall schedule. I'm glad for the mundane. Gladly accepting my mundane life of being a mommy of 3 with all the specials and diagnoses. These 3 are my miracles and although our wonderful summer is over, I'm taking a deep breath and leaping into Fall. here we go again. Let's hope this is a good school year!

We need to do better

Two weeks ago we met an eight year old boy and girl, both with autism and intellectual disabilities/delays at a playground behind a school. We greeted them and their aides. We eventually asked if they would like to play with my twins. Jill didn't care too much, she was content to sit under the tree. It really was a hot morning. Jack didn't move from his spot, BUT he was interested. (Not their actual names, but let's pretend they are).

I asked Jack if wanted to play with my twins, he could go down the slide with the girls and take turns, or he could climb the wall climber and take turns. It would be fun. Don't ya know he walked over and started to play with my twins? And don't you know even though Jack never verbalized, he played great with my twins, and they had no problems communicating in the language of Playing Children?

The aide turned and said almost flabbergasted- "He never does that, he's never social." 
Hmm, my thought? "Maybe you need to do better. Maybe you just need to understand his world instead of expecting him to join yours. Maybe we need to do better. Inclusion freaking works! How many more studies must we shove down the throats of this city's school board until they understand secluding our kids in autistic support classrooms is not the answer!"  But I digress.

A little later I asked my twins if they wanted to drink some of my iced tea. It was a hot morning and we'd been there a while. Neither of my girls wanted too. Jack went all Ninja Stealth on me and before I knew it he was standing next to me touching the straw and cup holding my iced tea. Aide was freaking out, "OMG, is he touching your cup, Jack you DON'T DO THAT!" She was screeching and coming over to grab his arm by the end of the sentence. Lady needed a chill pill. I  wanted to say: "Lady, I have 3 kiddos, no biggie." Instead I laughed and quickly calmed her down.

I said to Jack: "Honey, I can't give you my iced tea because I don't know your mommy. But maybe next time I'll get to meet your mommy and I'll bring you your own iced tea and ask her if I can give it to you. Would that be okay?" 

Jack nodded and motioned for my cup again.
"Jack, are you thirsty? You want some water?" I asked.
Again he nodded or he may have said yes. Either way, verbalizing was pointless because I understood. I turned to his aide and said "there's a water fountain inside if you want to fill his cup."  Turns out Jack had spilled her water bottle earlier and his aide hadn't realized he'd probably been trying to tell her that he was thirsty. 

I wish more folks would make a better effort to understand and enter an autism child's world. Why do we always expect and demand that they enter our world? If we hadn't been there, would that child played? Would he have remained thirsty?

I left soon thereafter. The experience has remained on my mind. We need to do better. I don't know how else to say it. We, as a society, need to do better.