Yesterday Afternoon

There is a new boy in my oldest teen's life. As much as I would like not to have these worries of teenagers and their hormones, I must admit I like this boy. I also like that the parents are involved in his life much more than the last boy, making it much easier to for me to keep tabs on my daughter.

His mother had invited Melody over for dinner. She was to be there at 4:30. The poor child was a case of nerves and the effect was that we were ready to leave the house at 3. I had to pick up some things from the store anyway and knowing how it may or may not go well in the store for Connor I decided it was good to leave this early.

Once strapped in his car seat he begins a chat "Hat, hat, hat, hat..." all the while pointing. He directs my driving all the way to the store of his choosing at which point the chant gets more intense and higher pitched "HAT! HAT! HAT! HAT!" As we are turning into the parking lot his sisters try to get more information out of him about this hat.

"What kind of hat is it?"
"Is it."
"Is it a Lightning McQueen hat?"
"Lightning McQueen hat."
"What color is it?"
"Color is it."

I am convinced at this point he is too excited at the prospect of getting the hat, he is only going to echo whatever is said to him in hopes he says what he needs to in order to get it, but they continue.

"Is it a black hat?"
"Black hat."
"Is it a red hat?"
"Red hat."
"Is it an orange hat?"
"Orange ha........NO!" I could hear the annoyance in his voice and thought that if I could have seen him at that moment he would probably be rolling his eyes.
"Is it purple?"
"Nooooo!"

Once inside he leads us not to the hats but to the toy department in the car aisle. He goes to one spot and points up. I don't see anything but a collections of Cars the movie figures that he already has. He is pointing at one in particular so I ask him "You want this one?"
"Want this one. Yes." he replies.

I pull it down and he doesn't take it but continues to point to the one behind it. One he doesn't have, one with hats. He must get a better view of things at his height. His memory of where he sees them amazes me though.

GF/CF chicken nuggets and other misadventures

We have jumped on to the bandwagon of the gluten free/ casein free diet. This has been tough! It seems everything in the known world has gluten and or casein in it! If you add to this the fact that my little guys craves bread and breaded things like a crack addict, then you can see the recipe for disaster.

I've had help along the way with removing all offending foods from the house. Other Moms have directed me to Whole Foods Market with lists of gf/cf items, things that are soy, almond, loaded with proteins, and other good things. My daughters, Connor, and I made a trial run to this store, just to see if the atmosphere was acceptable. Check the lighting and glare of the frozen food section. There is no toy department so this is a major plus. Though my youngest daughter did say the seafood section smelt like a penguin exhibit.

We all loved this place! Connor had his little basket and we did manage to get cf soy cheese, a watermelon, spinach, and juice smoothies before we had to go. He never had a meltdown or run across anyplace in the store he couldn't stand to be, but he had his engine on high and wanted to see every bit of the place at lightning speed. The girls and I did our 'divide and conquer' move, and made sure he was in someones sight and safe at all times.

After our trip it was time for me to make the gf/cf versions of his favorite foods; cheese bread and chicken nuggets. The cheese bread was easiest. A premade personal sized pizza crust, soy cheese, cf butter with garlic microwaved for a minute and he ate the whole thing. The chicken nuggets have been a bit more challenging.

Every single recipe I have tried he has looked at the nuggets then looked at me and said "No! Chicken nuggets!". So I tried to fix the shape of the nugget to look more like what you would get from fast food places or the store. "NO! Chicken Nuggets! No! Chicken Nuggets!"

I bought the microwave dinners with chicken nuggets and french fries, taken out the nuggets that come in it, replaced them with the gluten free ones and popped the tray back in the box and back into the freezer. This seemed to work until he picked one up. "No! Chicken Nuggets! No! Chicken nuggets!" Have you ever picked up a chicken nugget from a fast food place? If you squeeze it a little it is kind of spongy. If you take a bite and look at the meat inside it you will see that it is preformed meat. After lots of research I found out that those little beauties my sons loves so much are not only preformed Frankenstein meat but it yields a surprisingly large amount of skin. Yeah, I don't know how I'll get over this stumbling block. I'll figure out something.

I would like to give a special thanks my sister and her co-worker Mrs. Kimbrough
for directing me to A Year of Crockpotting.
The family has enjoyed 2 solid weeks of gluten free/ casein free meals! While Connor has enjoyed his chicken nuggets.

Facial Expressions

We're working on them!

You say Good-Bye, I say Good-bye

My young man has become very dependant on his schedules. Where he goes and when is very important for him to know up front. Every trip is planned out on his picture schedule, the number of pictures dependant on the number of steps to get to the final destination. Preparation to leave the house is to become another picture schedule since he now believes if you have your jacket and shoes (on or just carrying them) you are ready to go, regardless if you have any other piece of clothing on.

At school after I leave he is a different kid, closer to the one he was at home half a year ago. He barely speaks and does not express his wants. It was baffling at first to find out that the speech therapist at school had a goal for him to make 2-3 word utterances, while his out of school speech therapist is working on getting him to answer questions. It is a different world for him at school with overly busy walls, and children that he has no interest in.

I prepare the picture schedule with the PECS appropriate for each step;

Car, when we get in the car with seat belt on he removes the card, places it on the backside of the board and I prompt him to tell me where we are going next.

School, When we're parked I come to his door and he removes the card.

Office, We must sign in at the office every morning, this is the step that has caused the most trouble because at first he didn't want to go in, and then his bravery got the better of him and he decided to explore. This was fixed however with a "Don't get yourself in trouble, Connor." Yeah I couldn't believe that stopped him either.

Connor's class room, this is the last picture on the schedule. I had first tried to include a picture of a person waving "good-bye". I thought this would let him know that I was going to say "Good-bye". This backfired, upon seeing the goodbye card he grabbed his things and headed to the door.

The other obstacles in our way of completing the Office to Connor's classroom step is the occasional teacher and or therapist in the hall. To Connor this makes no sense what so ever. They are to be in the classroom, they do not exist anywhere else. The first sighting out of the classroom caused a meltdown in the hallway leaving me wondering how in the world I was going to get around this. Connor fixed it himself, now when he sees them in the hall or out the classroom he averts his eyes and does not respond to them. Yes, I'll have to come back to this one and remedy it.

The teachers and aides have always asked what they could do to help and have been most helpful, even adding the picture schedule to his IEP. However follow through has been hit or miss, causing them to have to deal with a meltdown in the hallway. They had left the classroom to go to the library, Connor is used to the idea that if the class leaves the room they go to the gym, lunch, or home. Not being shown a picture of the unexpected library before hand left him unprepared.

When talking to the aide and asking about using the pictures she told me he hadn't needed it as much since he got used to the normal routine. I was glad her boss was behind her listening to the conversation. The aide is the sweetest lady but she needs to be pointed back into the right direction occasionally, as do we all.

Respect and value

These two simple things are something I never really thought I had to worry about when it comes to Connor. He is sweet, endearing, funny, just one of the best kids ever put on the planet really, when you come right down to it. Or is that only in my eyes?

I am sure this Mom from my state thinks the same of her 8yr old boy. Educators trusted with his well being while at school obviously do not agree. If you respected or valued someone you would never lock them in a closet sized room.

My own Mother was so upset by this article that she woke me up bright and early on Sunday to make me read it. I don't know what is worse actually, the terrible situation this innocent young boy was in, or the dimwitted people that have posted comments on the article. Things that translate into; "That boy was making it difficult for the precious normal kids to learn. He shouldn't be allowed to be there." or "So what? He was being difficult. Teachers don't have enough resources to deal with that.". The resources these teachers do or do not have is not this little boys fault nor should he be kicked out of school because people believe the normal children should come first.

HBO recently aired a documentary called 'Autism the Musical'.
A Mom in the documentary made a comment that I really identify with. She said she could use the moments when people stare or make rude comments to enlighten them and get the word out but she could not make them respect or value her daughter. How true is that? Even though people are informed about the condition they fail to see that the person has a mind, thoughts, feelings, etc. The thought that the person they are smirking at may have intelligence totally eludes them. One comment made on the article about the little boy makes this quite clear, "If he wasn't taking anything in why have him in there? Put him in a class with other kids like him."
I will not even start on that one because I fear I will be typing all day.

The comments weren't all bad, but there were enough to put me up on several soap boxes, they were all mostly to do with autism so maybe you would say I was on several spectrums of soap boxes. Funny enough a little post about "special needs Moms" not having anything better to do than to stir up trouble (are freaking kidding me?) made me realize that was my new label.

I am a special needs Mom. I clean, cook, clean some more, taxi children to school and therapies, try to be a decent wife to my husband, make sure everyone in the household is healthy and happy, between all this I scramble for a moment or two to breath, find a second or two for me. But for all this I have no life and must stir up trouble where ever I can and put my poor child on display, it's quite sad really.

I know I don't have to worry about this sort of thing happening to my kiddo, but know this. If I found out someone locked Connor in a closet I would not be as calm as this lady and just sue the school. I would never have the chance before the person who locked him in got to sue me for bodily injury. OK stepping off my many boxes for the moment. Happy Hump Day!

Eat my chicken!

After the last few weeks wondering if my darling toddler had indeed been possessed by demons, we have finally landed once again in a very good place. He has abandoned his pursuits of knocking everything in reach over or running at windows with hands outstretched. Finding himself in solitary time outs until he could remain calm to the count of 5 has taken his heart out of it. What good is it to do these shocking activities if no one is going to act properly upset?

Good behavior has been abundant and so when it came time to make dinner and he wanted to watch a few videos on the computer I was very accommodating. It can be hit or miss with his communication about what he wants to watch so an amount of patience is requires from both of us.
"Rabby" he squeaks.
"Rabby? Can you point to it?" I am puzzled because we are looking at Thomas and Friends videos and I don't know of an engine with that name.
"Rabby, Rabby, Rabby!" He repeats and finally touches the character he wants to watch.
"Oh! Cranky."
"Cranky!" He smiles at me happy that I was able to figure it out.

As the video begins he sings to the music, "Dun da dah, dun da dah dah."
Perfectly he keeps the beat and then with out warning, "Eat my chicken!"
"Huh?"
"Eat my chicken! Eat my chicken!" He squawks, bouncing in his seat being very pleased with himself.
"Yeah, we are having chicken for dinner." I offer thinking maybe that was what he was going on about. Only to get a 'What the hell are you talking about' look in return. I leave it wondering where he might have picked that up and he watches another short clip this time about George the steamroller. It is only 40 seconds long and he sings along with the music waiting for his favorite part at the end. "Wooooo!" and he slides at of his chair on purpose to the last note of the music. It sounds like a sound effect that would be added when someone slips on a banana peel.

"Rabby! Rabby!" He squeaks when the George video is over.
"Cranky?" I ask
"Cranky!"
"OK, this is the last video before we eat. After this one we are all done with videos." I explain before I start it so he will know what to expect, even if he isn't happy with it.

"Dun da dah. Dun da dah dah! Eat my chicken! Eat my chicken!" Obviously I need to watch more Thomas and Friends or judging how he barely ate anything, especially not his chicken (it wasn't breaded and reformed into nugget shape, therefore unfit for consumption), I need to eat his chicken for him.

Old man grocery shopping

This an Email I recieved from a friend today. It reminded me of experiences in the store with Connor, except I could laugh about it.

An old gentleman was grocery shopping with his grandson. The toddler was crying and at times screaming at the top of his lungs.

As the old gentleman walked up and down the aisles, people could hear him speaking in a soft voice...
"We are almost done, Albert...
Try not to cry, Albert...
Life will get better, Albert..."

As he approached the checkout stand, He carefully brushed the toddler's tears from his eyes and said again, "Try not to cry, Albert...We will be home soon, Albert..."

As he was paying the cashier, the toddler continued to cry as a young woman in line behind him said, "Sir, I think it is wonderful how sweet you are being to your little Albert."

The old gentleman blinked his eyes a couple of times before saying.
"My grandson's name is John... I'm Albert."