New Friends

With the littlest one in the bed I was ready to post on my blog. I had something of importance to say, big news to report! I get comfortable in front of the screen and attempt to log on only to find I can't produce an @ symbol. I try again, nope, nadda. Assuming that it is just one of those things that only takes a restart of the computer to fix, that's what I do.

Computer starts back up and now I can't produce a, s, d, j, k, l, or anything that requires the shift key. OK, I try and restart again. Same thing. Crap! I am starting to get nervous about computer hijackers and key loggers. I run my anti-virus, Spybot search and destroy, and windows defender, because woe be the world if the vital information on my computer should land in the wrong hands. Nothing.


I walk downstairs in the dungeon my husband calls the library and ask his advice.
"Try another keyboard." He doesn't bother to look away from his screen.
"You have another one?"
"Yeah, just outside the door near the...."
"Near the what?"
"um..err.....just....there...by the refrigerator." Not being able to multitask it is hard for him to give me directions while banded together with nine other people to save the world of Azeroth from evil. (He is playing on multi player online game.)
"What, stuck in the Mountain Dew box that you've have used as a trash can?"
"Yeah."


Since it was only paper trash I pull out the keyboard, wipe it down and use a can of compressed air on the keys. As you can tell, that did the trick and I am saved from disappointing my devoted readers (at least 2 people anyway).


I had asked the question in my last post of how would you explain autism to someone who asked. I had started on a post but got a little lost in the things it is and is not, as it pertains to Connor. I have poured over it repeatedly and it just doesn't portray what I would like just yet. So for now the answer to "What is autism?" is "It's personal."


Oh and the big news? Well, Connor and I have been invited to join a playgroup. All of them 30 something moms and dads with 3 yr old autistic sons or daughters. We are going to the zoo this Saturday and I can't wait for Connor to get to finally see the baby elephant. I talked to one of the ladies in the group today and it helps that she has a great sense of humour and explained that if any kids have a meltdown during these outings no one is there staring at you wondering what is wrong with your kid, or wondering why you didn't have them under control.


I feel like a kid who has just met a new friend. I haven't made many since high school and had not managed to keep many of the ones from those days. One of the ones I had made since then had got divorced and I guess gave custody of our friendship to the husband. The one thing that I find a little concerning is when I was young I would be really hoping that they liked me. Now what I really hope is that I will like them.

Weight of the world

Most normal people, whoever or wherever they may be, would boggle at my want for half of a well planned out thought in my head. I am finding more and more that forgetfulness is evading my brain and I find myself doing silly things. Like calling the grocery right after I leave to ask them if they would please hold the smoked sausages for me, that I just forgot in the self check out.

I am also getting very tired and stressed. Meltdowns have been getting far less often and in less intensity, except for the last two weeks. Wednesday seems to be the day for the long drawn out screaming, kicking and flailing sessions. Last week he had no speech therapy, his therapist had gone on vacation. Going back this week we sat in the waiting room and Connor couldn't keep his eyes off of another little boy in the room. The little boy walked over to Connor and as soon as he reached out to touch Connor, the boys mother gets a little panicky. "Don't now, be easy. Leave him alone he is sitting there being good!" She squawks as her son does joint compressions on Connor's head and by accident sticks a finger in his eye.

I wait calmly to see if this is what will send him in to flight mode. He sits there rubbing his eye and making small attempts to get free of the stroller. The speech therapist shows up right on time, I set him free and he walks with her hand in hand. When he sees we are going to her room it is too much. Aggravation followed so quickly by disappointment sends him over the edge and he collapses onto the floor.

Half the session is over before he calms down and participates. I sit in front of the door to bar escape and brush my arms and hands. My face, arms and hands are scratched, my hair pulled, and my shoulders popping. My feelings are hurt and my heart in pieces about what he must be going through to do such things.

When we leave he is perfectly fine as if nothing has happened, so I head to the store to pick up forgotten sausages and get pull-ups. He was a perfect gentleman in the store until we head to the exit and he sees "APPLES!"

"Honey we have already checked out and we have apples at home." Have to be told no sometimes, right?

I wrestle through the parking lot trying to keep my toddler from diving head first out of the cart, hold on to the groceries he is trying to throw out, and stop the contents of my purse spilling out. Once he is in his car seat and everything is calm enough to pull out, I can't find my keys. I check the bag, I check my purse 15 times, I check my pockets over and over. I stand behind the car looking at the ground to see if I dropped them. I can't find them. I sit in the drivers seat and let my shoulders slump. pop! pop! pop! They attempt to place themselves correctly.

I want to scream or hit something. I want to cry, but I wont. I am the adult here I have to figure this out. I have to buck up, get him back out of the car and go find these keys.

"OK, now that you have calmed down. Would you like to go get an apple?"

I found my keys in the cart he tried to escape from, and he was happy as can be with a 3/4 pound Fuji apple. I do fear I forgot to get some Aleve. Maybe I can order by mail?

Occupational Monday

The same ammo as every Monday.
Pressure vest? Check
Stroller? Check
Toys, books, wax candy? Check, check and check
Get there by the 11 o'clock appointment time? Why the hell bother but, check.
OT 15 minutes late for the appointment and send someone up to say she had a kid in a meltdown? Uh huh, what is she doing to this kid?
My kid in meltdown mode because his therapist has exhausted his patience? Yep, and he has hit his foot and is escalating to flight mode.

I have my suspicions about OT's being of the late persuasion. His last OT was always late and now this one is. I should just expect it by now but it still irritates me. When he sees her he has already started to recover and grabs her hand. He was delighted that she didn't take him to the same old room but instead to the gym. On the way she apologizes and tells me all the things I should not be hearing about the patient before us.

I get right down to business, I am to report how he did the past week after the listening therapy. "Monday he did a couple of good things and then Wednesday and Thursday were pure hell. I was at a point that he was never going to listen to music again if I had any say over it."
"What happened Wednesday and Thursday?"
"Any type of redirection or reprimand was met with whatever was handy thrown at my head, or things within reach knocked off of cabinets. He would stand there looking straight at me and doing whatever came in to his mind that might make me upset!" I am almost in tears thinking about it.
"So what happened the rest of the week?"
"The rest of the week was filled with REALLY good stuff. More words, more sentences, and he was able to hum to tunes better, where as before he was so offbeat. He told his sister Turn light on. He asked me What are you doing? He has been having some small steps toward potty training. Most importantly at bedtime when he is patting my face and nose, he isn't pinching them off. It's like he is realizing his strength." Once again I am close to tears.

"So do you want to try the therapy again this week? I'll try a different CD this time and maybe that won't cause the problems he had last time." She waits looking at me for an answer while nightmares of Wednesday and Thursday come flashing back in my mind. Then I think of all the good things he accomplished and a wise statement from Mcewen at Whitterer on Autism, there is no such thing as a free lunch.

Routine of routinely having routine messed up

We have a schedule in our house. It isn't a strict schedule laying out every minute of the day. Connor doesn't seem to need such strenuous steps taken for routine. He has come to expect when a certain event happens that another particular event will follow. Human nature I think to expect things a certain way, we all do this to a certain degree.

When he gets up in the morning he knows I will take him to the bathroom. I will help him get dressed and groomed. After he knows breakfast will be on the table. I have come to expect that depending on the bread and sugar content, it may or may not be eaten.

He knows when we will play and when therapies are coming. A pitiful little timer helps us transition through. Sometimes there are discrepancies when Connor thinks the timer is wrong, sending it flying across the room when it sounds time is up.

His favorite part of the daily routine is getting in the car and picking up his sisters from school and seeing the elephant statue at the local putt-putt. So as always, I put him in his car seat, I walk around, get in and fasten my seat belt. The car would not start. It sounded like it was trying but just couldn't fire up. I call Hubby and tell him the problem and he offers to go get the girls.

No sense sitting in the car any longer so I get out and go around to get Connor. I unbuckle, he rebuckles. This happens a few more times and then he decides to climb over the backseat into the hatchback. I keep myself calm and chase him through the car all the while explaining that we can't go, the car wont start.

I finally get a hold on him and take him back into the house. Once inside he is furious and goes into a fit of turning toy tubs over and throwing and screaming. I could just imagine what he was thinking...You didn't do it right Mommy! Where's Gracie? Where's Melody? I've already said Bye-bye to the duck! I wanna see the elephant!

I try to console when I can and stay out of the way when I can't. I let him have his fit, because honestly it ticked me off a little too. Dumb thing said it had over a half tank of gas when in fact it was empty. I more than empathised with him.

After awhile things became more normal and Connor was returned to his calmer state. I pick this moment to have him help clean up the destruction of his fit. He wasn't happy about it at all, but it was expected.

Hopefully his Mommy will get things right tomorrow and realize the logical thing to do after getting into the car, is to leave the driveway.

T.G.I.F. or not!

Sometimes Fridays are just so darn good. We hadn't done much heavy work but instead concentrated more on floor time, just enjoying being with each other. He behaved so well and even helped me clean up when he spilt an entire box of Trix cereal.

He said the cutest things. Seeing the cookie dough he had gotten on a DVD he ask "What did you do?" It was so cute I couldn't help but laugh. At one point during the day I even heard a happy little bird chirping outside my window.

Time came to get the girls from school and we got in the car waving "Bye-bye Duck" to the lawn ornament in the neighbors yard. The weather was nice and breezy and the sun wasn't shinning too brightly. When we got home I decided it would be nice to get the heavy work out of the way outside. It's Friday so that means Hubby brings dinner home, no preparing meals today!

I gave Connor a spade to dig in dirt and sand. After an hour or so we were both covered in the dirt and sand, so under the pretense of getting something to drink, I lured him back inside. Once inside he is self sufficient in getting his own drink of water. I start to draw his bath and he jumps in almost before I can get his clothes off.

After he is clean and hair washed I set the timer. When it goes off the younger teen takes Connor to finish getting dress while I have my chance to get clean and changed. I had managed to get my shirt off and hear a crash followed by "WAH!!!"

I rush out of the bathroom still only in pants and a bra to see he has managed to slice his foot open while playing chase with his sister. The magnetic board to help organize appointments had a very thin sheet of aluminum that peels right off and is very dangerous to little feet.

He doesn't want to be touched and blood is everywhere. I pick him up and put a pull-up on him getting blood smeared all the way up his leg. It was on my hands, the floor, my chest, and all over him. The youngest girl gets me a tshirt and the oldest gets another pull-up and we put in on his foot. Absorbent and stops blood from getting on anything else. The oldest gets him in the car while the youngest helps me get my keys and cell phone. At this moment I seemed to have trouble remembering anything.

On the way to the immediate car center he is fine saying "Ewww!" when he sees the blood on his toes. In triage his is OK, when the nurse takes off the pull-up to look at his foot he covers his mouth and says "Oh no!"

Once we are called back in the room waiting on a doctor he gets scared. Hubby and I try to calm him but he tries desperately to get under the gurney which has a shelve for oxygen it's covered with dust and just dangerous. After an hour of wrestling with a distraught toddler the doctor finally comes in. He is very nice and ready for a work out. The procedure was over quickly, the pricks to numb and the cleaning being the only things that hurt, and Connor though he was struggling and screaming in the beginning is now asleep.

Connor got 5 stitches and once home was talking and running 90 mph like nothing ever happened. The stitches are to be in for 2 weeks because the cut is across the bottom of his heel, and he is to take an antibiotic because there is noway to keep him off his feet.

Watching him since we got home I don't know how those stitches are going to hold out.

Oh well!

Before the summer was over the girls and I decided we needed to get out of the house and do something. Something other than going to the zoo or park. So we decided on a small road trip, to go out of town and eat lunch at a restaurant we have never been to before.

We packed up a small amount of supplies; snacks, diapers, and wipes for the boy. Ipods, magazines, and bottled water for them. Off we went and we really enjoyed ourselves. Unfortunately as we were turning into the parking lot of the restaurant we had decided looked good, Connor had started to nod off. He is of course grumpy as we wake him up and as I take him into the restaurant he starts to scream and kick. I leave my girls to find us a good spot while I take Connor to the restroom in hopes he will calm down. He lays crumpled in the floor now that all appendages have turned to jelly. I sit near him but do not touch him, if I touch him he kicks or throws an arm at me. A little girls walks out of the stall and stares at us as if she had come across a murder scene. She barely washes and dries her hands before darting out, all the while making a noise "Oooohhhhmmmm!"

He has decided he is suddenly happy to be there and is OK with leaving the bathroom. He takes my hand and we walk toward my daughters. We walk hand in hand and he is taking everything in and I actually see a smile on his face. His hand then starts to slip out of mine and his little body is starting a slow descent toward the floor as he sees his sisters and where they expect us to sit.

He is fine with sunlight when he is outside, but sunlight streaming in from a window is not tolerated. A table in the corner of a room that has a window on each wall where the rest of the room is relatively dim is absolute torture. There are no other tables available so I try to put him in a seat with his back towards the largest window hoping this will suffice. As I suspect the placement doesn't make it any better and he places himself where he finds it most comfortable for all senses, under the table lying on his stomach with his head as close as possible to our feet.

I reason with myself that if left alone he may calm down enough to adjust to his surrounds and that a pleasant lunch isn't totally out of the question. The waitress comes to the table to take our drink orders, she is much older and seems to very be concerned about the situation. She tries to talk to him like she would any other child his age. "Honey, you don't wanna lay down there. That floor is dirty, you'll getcha clothes all messed up"

"He is autistic, it may be awhile before we get him up off the floor." I tell her, hoping it will encourage her to go ahead with the drink order.

Still looking down at him like she expected him to react, she says in a very pleasant southern singsong voice, "Well........Oh well!" and leaves us to get our drinks.

I look at my oldest daughter and see she is red in the face and stopping herself from laughing. I chuckle a little and ask "She has no idea what the heck I'm talking about does she?"
"Nope not a clue."

At that point my youngest daughter pipes up "Who cares we aren't ever going to see these people again. He's not hurting anything, let's eat!"

Very sage advice I think.

Forget and let forget

The morning started of great. Connor was awake and singing in his bed. I got up opened his door and told him "G'morning" otherwise he would stay in there all day. I go to the kitchen and coffee is already waiting on me. How heavenly! I peek out the side door and see Hubby is outside making his morning calls telling everyone where to be and when. Probably outside so to avoid having each person sernaded. I call down stairs to the teens and tell them it time to get up. The eldest has to get ready, today is freshman registration. Hubby is done with his calls and comes back in.

"She's getting ready now." I can tell as soon as the sentence comes out of my mouth that he has forgotten.
"!@#$, I can't believe I !@#$*% forgot! I have a contractor meeting me in Indiana in 30 mins!"
"Does she have to be there? Can you drop off the papers and pay the fees?"
"Yeah I'll do that. Should be ok right?"
"We can only hope at this point. You did remember his speech evaluation is at 2?"
"Yeah I will stay here and do paper work till you get back"

The problem was solved for a total of 10 minutes.

"I'll have to come get you two and drop you off to do this. Have the younger teen keep an eye on Connor. They have this long line and a 12 step process and I will be here all day. Besides they have to make her an ID."

He drops us off at the highschool where we grab her schedule and wait in an ID line for an hour. Where it becomes pretty obvious she forgot to brush her teeth. Then we pick up books, locker combinations, handbooks, and pay fees for Orchestra, honors classes, art/photo club, and various other stuff, which turns in to a small fortune. We then find the classrooms for each period; 2nd floor, 1st floor, 2nd floor, 3rd floor, 1st, 3rd....
"Mom you think they did this on purpose?" She laughs.

Hubby picks us up and I am annoyed yet again. The viola he was to drop off to be strung and tuned, that cost three times the amount I just gave the school, that was handmade with inlay, that is sensitive to humidity and cold alike, is in the bed of his truck!

1:30 rolls around and Connor and I are on our way to his speech evaluation. He is always happy to be riding in the truck. We get there and sign in and he is very excited, it is the same building OT is in and he knows the next hour will be all about him. The receptionist calls me over while I wrestle with a toddler that is dying to run the halls at top speed.

"He has a speech evaluation?"
"Yes"
"Uhm... it isn't today."
"Really, you're sure?"
"Yes, Ma'am. It is on the 7th. I can understand how 7th and 2nd sound alike though."
"Thank you."

I then have two challenges in front of me. One this little boy is very upset that there will be no treatment or new toys played with today and he is now clawing, pinching, and kicking. Second is the dear man I have been a snippy b*tch to today over things he has forgot or overlooked.

I finally get Connor in his carseat and bribed to remain in the belt correctly, using what little ABA I have in my possesion. We head off to the grocery to pick up a few odds and ends and to take him somewhere instead of straight home which would cause more meltdowns. As we pull into the parking lot he starts chanting "Cookie, cookie, cookie"

We gather what we need and little guy is being a model citizen and I see it the

most perfect thing that says "I am so sorry. I have been an ass. Please forgive

me and please don't make any snide remarks."

Oh and we got the cookie too.

Noobie

Awh my first post! Wonder how long little bit will let me sit and type before deciding I have better things to do and more wonderful things to play with him.

A little about me, I am a stay at home Mom with 2 beautiful teenaged girls and if that wasn't troubling and nerve racking enough I also have a husband, a Mother that is staying with us temporarily until her house is more suitable to live in (going on a year I think now) and a 3yr old newly diagnosed autistic son.

We are working on OT right now which everyone keeps saying once the motorskills are in place and strong the speech will come. I don't see major problems in motorskills myself but they tell me they are there. So we play outside an enormouse amount of time, and I am lucky that he will play in sand, dirt, mud, grass, sticks, water. Unlucky that he would prefer to play with these all at once and has to feel some of these in his mouth, which has caused many sandy diaper changes the next day.

I am often erked by how much he needs weird things for the feedback. All of my cabinets are locked tight because things like sugar, creamer, flour, coffee, tea, spray bottles, butter, peanutbutter, etc. are all things that he seek and will try to hide out with them as he smears or sprays them all over himself.

Verbal is coming along in the last 2 weeks he has picked up so many more words and he has many signs he uses to tell me what he needs or wants. Along with this progress come the meltdowns but they are shortlived and he usually is good at calming himself and the progress is still there after the meltdowns are gone.

I can't tell you how happy my non-verbal fella made me when he started in the last week saying "I see you", "Lightning! Where are you" (refering to his lightning McQueen car) and singing the alphabet and Elmo's World! The meltdowns lasting till 5:30 am were not ideal but I got thru knowing this time that is was just temporary and hopefully sentences (or fractions of) would still be spoken in the morning...or maybe afternoon.