Embracing the Spectrum

My two latest posts

2013-10-12T19:18:00.004-04:00

Hello!

I'm not sure if everyone has had a chance to move on over to my Wordpress blog, so I'm going to post the link to my two latest blog entries right here on Blogger.

I'm only going to do this for a couple more weeks, so please be sure to come on over and join the party over at my pretty new blog!!

Without further ado, my two latest blog entries are:

He Has Friends and When Poop Happens

I hope to see you all over on my fancy new blog!

~Teresa

Moving to WordPress

2013-10-03T22:09:00.001-04:00

To all of my followers, please be aware that I have moved all of my blog posts over to WordPress with the new Domain Name http://embracingthespectrum.com/.

I have published my latest blog post there as well: http://embracingthespectrum.com/2013/10/03/spring-loadedquestion/

Protective Big Brother

2013-09-21T22:37:00.001-04:00

"Hey! Leave my baby alone!" Squeaker shouted at the employee at Tuesday Mornings with an angry look on his face and his body rigid with tension.

Moments before, Big Guy had been playfully chased after saying "hi" coyly to the woman and had run toward his brother. Not understanding the social cues of smiling faces, but seeing his brother running away from someone he didn't know, he had perceived the situation as a dangerous one. It came as a shock to me and The Manager that he rose up in that situation and protected him. He didn't break down, have a meltdown, or scream. He stood up, shouted, and told her to leave his brother alone.

We had to reassure him that everything was okay. The employee told him that she wasn't going to hurt his brother. He calmed down. As she rung me up, she told me how good it was that he was so protective over his brother and that her kids just fought all the time. And, you see, this isn't a first for Squeaker. He looks out for his brother, but he does become distressed if he feels like we're not reacting fast enough to what he perceives as danger. Each time he does this, it reminds me of what a precious gift we have in him.

You see, I think people misunderstand Autism and believe that people with Autism lack feeling and don't care about others. The common characteristic of Autism is that people with Autism really lack or have a deficit in Theory of Mind. Yes, they can use people as objects, but they still love. Mostly, there is difficulty understanding emotions. This tends to improve with age and development, especially if you work on these skills with them. With this comes trouble understanding sarcasm, deceit, and subtle social rules. But, the thing I have noticed with most children I've met who are diagnosed with Autism is that they actually feel emotions more deeply than others. And if you think they don't feel your emotions, you're probably wrong. They may not understand them, but from what I've seen, they feel them.

Squeaker still has quite a bit of trouble understanding the emotions we feel. Many times, he's more concerned with how our emotions will impact him. He wants his world to be okay. But, he will also mimic emotions and illnesses. If Mommy is sad, he's sad. If Mommy is happy, he's happy. If Mommy has a headache, he does too. He's at the center of everything. But then there are times where he really wants to make things all better. He gives hugs and tries to console. He gets distressed if he can't fix it.

The fact of the matter is, Squeaker is a loving child. He snuggles with me. He gives me kisses. He looks out for his brother. We definitely have our rough moments, and they are frequent enough, but they are sprinkled with a fine dusting of love and sweetness.

When we walked out of the store today, I turned to Squeaker and I told him what a good big brother he was and how proud I was that he tried to protect his little brother. Then, I walked down the sidewalk with tears of pride in my eyes.

To Be With the "Smarter Kids"

2013-09-18T22:49:00.000-04:00

Today I heard words that made me cringe. We were in my inclusion class and we had just had a Socratic Seminar that my co-teacher and I thought had gone really well. So, trying to gauge how one of the students in the class with a higher reading level felt about it and whether she felt challenged enough, the co-teacher asked her how she felt the seminar went. The girl said that she enjoyed it, but when asked if she felt like she was being challenged in the class, she says, "Well, I may be moving to another class with some of my smarter friends." (paraphrasing)

Bear in mind that the child's mother is a teacher and knows she is in an inclusion class and, further, the child herself probably also has some perceptions about her group of friends versus others. She is a sweet girl. She meant no harm in what she said. There was no malice in her words. She has to be one of the sweetest young ladies I've ever met. But those words. Those words pained me.

I'm not even sure if I can accurately explain the reason why those words hurt so much. I think it's my feeling that the words are coming from her mother, who teaches and knows that she is in a class that has special education students in it after having come to an Open House and seeing that there were two teachers in her class. And it's not about me. It really isn't. It's about the assumption that those other students in the room are somehow less than her. Less intelligent. Less able. That they're going to drag her daughter down. The fact of the matter is that we are going at the same pace as all of the other Language Arts classes. We modify the way in which we cover material for those students who need it, but we cover the same material. We have some truly awesome, profound, intellectual conversations. If the perception is that our class is the "dumb" one, that is totally inaccurate.

And the thing is, other students. The special ed ones. They are not dumb. Oh my goodness. They are not. You should hear the things they say. We had this Socratic Seminar today and they had some of the brightest statements. Why? I think some of them have the richest life experiences. Maybe not the happiest, but the richest. They were insightful and contributed thoughtfully to the conversation. I am willing to bet that not a single student in that room knows they have an IEP. So, it's totally unfair to assume that just because there's an extra adult in the room (and therefore special ed students) that there are not smart kids in the room too.

Lastly, my own child is a special education student. At some point, he will be in a classroom with regular education students. What if a parent at some point recognizes that their child is in a classroom with him and erroneously believes that he is stupid or less than their child? That's such a horrible assumption. He's not stupid. He can count by 10s. He can spell. He's a first grader and he's reading books that are probably above where he should be for the beginning of the first grade. He can add and subtract. He can count to 100. Does he have behavior issues? Yes. Does he understand jokes and social cues? No. Can he make inferences? No. But is he stupid? Hell no. And none of those kids I work with at school are stupid either.

The truth is, all kids have strengths and weaknesses. ALL OF THEM. If you put them all together, they can draw from each other's strengths and make up for each other's weaknesses and do some awesome things together. That's what Inclusion is. Even the "smartest" kid in the room has weaknesses. Hell, I was 3rd in my class and I had things that I had to work on. I mean, really. We're doing great things.

But the important thing that I really think needs to be said is that all kids deserve to feel smart. And telling your kid that you want them with the "smarter" kids is the same thing as telling them that they're with the "dumb" kids. And that's mean. So, think before you speak. Think really hard about what you say to your children. Because, honestly, do you really want them grouping kids into categories like that?

How do you feel about labeling kids by how "smart" they are? Weigh in by leaving a comment!

It Takes a Special Kind of Person

2013-09-13T21:34:00.001-04:00

It takes a special kind of person to teach special education when you have a special needs child of your own. That's what I hear most often when parents or other teachers hear that I not only teach special education but have a child with Autism. What they don't realize is that I didn't choose to do it this way. And I don't mean that in an ugly way. Because I know that sounded wrong. But, one has nothing to do with the other. Let me tell you how I became a Special Education Teacher with a special needs child.

Nine years ago, I graduated from college with a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology and a Minor in Creative Writing and no job. I interviewed for plenty, but I got nadda. My husband (then fiance) was hired immediately as an assistant manager at a retail store, so I followed him and kept looking. Finally, after several people told me I was overqualified to work for them (what a joke), I went to a temp agency and got placed at the Department of Social Services as a temporary worker. They liked me so much there that they hired me permanently as an Income Maintenance Caseworker. I started off maintaining a caseload of Medicaid clients. Then, I got promoted to Income Maintenance Caseworker II, taking applications for Food Stamps and Medicaid. Then, I switched over to taking applications for Work First, Food Stamps, and Medicaid and maintaining a caseload of Work First clients. It was a stressful job, I got cussed out a lot, and it was depressing. Super depressing. And thankless. And I was very productive, which meant I got dumped on a lot as people got burned out quite quickly. I went for a promotion as a Staff Development Trainer, which would've been significant, made it to the interview process, which was quite significant because the guy was quite picky, and came in second. I spiralled into depression and quit shortly thereafter, realizing that I had hit a ceiling there.

I also realized that what I really wanted to do was impact people earlier in their lives. I wanted to reach children. I wanted to change them and make a difference so that maybe they were educated enough to make it out of the system. When I worked at Social Services I saw entire families of people go through the system. It was disheartening. They knew no different. What if I could be that one person in a child's life that said, "Hey! You can be somebody!" That's what I wanted to do. So I took a gamble and I quit my job. I quit, and I took the Praxis, and I applied to be a lateral entry Special Education teacher. And then I prayed that somebody would hire me.

And you know what? Someone did. I mean, there was one douchebag AP who told me to my face that his school didn't need to take lateral entry teachers because, you know, they were so wonderful. I can literally envision him right now with his nose in the air. He didn't give me a chance. But two Principals interviewed me. Two offered me a position. One was an 80% position, the other a full time position, and I took the full time position at a very challenging school that students with primarily low socioeconomic status. Out of the fire and into the frying pan. And I went right into teaching kids who really, really needed help. And in my first year teaching, I raised students' test scores to phenomenal levels. So that douche bag who wouldn't give me a chance can suck it. I drove kids to succeed, had lots of energy, and always, always, always told them I believed in them.

But, I have learned so much since that year. You see, my youngest son was not yet thought of at this point and my oldest was only a year old. As far as we knew, he was typically developing, and he was the easiest baby in the whole entire world. I could've had ten babies just like him. He slept through the night, he was happy, and he hardly ever cried unless he was hungry or needed to be changed. So, you see, going into Special Education was merely a coincidence. I had no idea that I was doing double duty at the time. Life was simple. Easy. I am not brave and I am no hero. This just happened.

But you know what? Fate put me here for a reason. It is exhausting. I don't get a break. And I get tired of using my calm voice all day long. I'll be honest, I do not succeed in using it all day. But this happened for a reason. And it's not because I chose to. It's because I had to. I had to learn this by doing. I have learned so much about my son through my job and so much about my job through my son. It has been mutually beneficial. I cannot tell you how many times I have looked at the children on my caseload through eyes that I know would be much less understanding than they are now if it were not for my son. Sometimes it is overwhelming. The other day, I was almost brought to tears because of my feelings of sadness for a child whose mother didn't understand his disability and therefore refused to acknowledge the help he needed. And there are countless times that I get angry at teachers who do not understand that consequences, for some children, are meaningless and that applying the same set of cookie cutter rules and consequences makes no sense.

For the most part, though, being a special needs teacher with a special needs child just means that I not only teach children with special needs, know the strategies to help children with special needs, know the laws and regulations, and know the paperwork, but I have so much empathy for parents who have children with special needs. I'm also able to refer parents out to resources in the community because I use them. And being knowledgeable about the process helps me because it allows me to help my own child. I always know what should go on at an IEP meeting. And I have learned so many strategies to help manage his behavior.

So, does it take a special kind of person? Well, I would be lying if I didn't say I wasn't tired every day. But, if I didn't get something out of my life, I wouldn't continue doing what I do. And I love what I do, and I wouldn't trade it for the world. I get to see kids grow and change and do something with their lives. And my own child? Well, he's doing that, too. What's better than that?

Domestic Violence: Helping With a Serious Issue

2013-09-08T09:42:00.000-04:00

I've been sitting here racking my brain trying to figure out how to start this blog entry. I want to give the topic itself the respect it's due and my friend the privacy and respect she deserves. This week, my "Selfless Saturday" act was done without having to really consider doing anything else. I felt it was something that just had to be done because (a) it was the right thing to do and (b) there were kids involved, and any time there are kids involved, there is no other recourse.

What happened in this situation is something that should never happen to anyone. And out of respect to the person involved, I will not give specifics about names or the number of people involved to preserve anonymity. But, the reason I got involved is that she was left high and dry by her husband, who had physically abused her, gotten arrested, gotten released, and then took everything from her. With no money, no job, no car, and children to take care of, and with a self esteem that was left crumpled after a long time of bashing from her husband, she is now trying to get back on her feet.

Did she ask for my help? No. Hell no. In fact, two days ago, we weren't even speaking. Seriously, we weren't. We had a falling out months ago. When I heard about what happened, my heart broke for her. I knew things had been bad with her marriage and that he was not nice to her, but I did not know it was to this level. I have a true disdain for men who treat women this way. Any man who can break a woman's face and cause her to get stitches is a worthless piece of shit. And the fact that she is trying to pull her life back together, as depressed as she is, earns her some respect. I contacted her and asked her to let me back in so I could help her. I felt bad blocking her out like that, wondering if her relationship had played a role in what happened with us and if I had been hasty in my retreat.

So, today we bought her some groceries. She told me she had about a weeks worth of food left in the house, but I know that she tends to stretch her food to last and probably had very little food in reality. We got her a few extras that she didn't need as well. I knew her favorite brownies, so we threw that in the cart as well, knowing she could use a pick-me-up. I knew she needed laundry detergent, shampoo, conditioner, and things like that, so we got that stuff too. I think we got her enough to stretch her out for a little bit. She doesn't have a family here--no support system. I knew that until she got everything figured out, she would have nothing. She was stressing and she has kids and that's no way to live.

Of course, she told me that this was not something I had to do, and she didn't expect me to. But I would like to think that if I were in the same situation, someone would do the same for me. And if she had the means, I think she would do the same for someone else. Really, I'm glad we have the means to help someone who needs the help. And, most of all, I'm glad that we were able to sit and visit for a while, because I think she needed that more than anything. And since the husband cut off the internet and everything else, the kids don't have TV to watch or anything, so we'll be bringing some entertainment over for them later this week as well, and that, I know, will be a huge help.

In the times to come, I really would like to just offer emotional support and I hope that she knows that I am here now and I'm not going anywhere. Domestic Violence is a serious issue, and no one should be alone when they're going through that.

If you are suffering from Domestic Violence or know someone who is, call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1−800−799−SAFE(7233) or TTY 1−800−787−3224 or visit http://www.thehotline.org.

Happy Tears

2013-09-06T19:39:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I wrote about how worried I was about this school year already. My son was coming home talking about watching movies every day and I thought he was doing nothing. Well, I owe his teacher a huge apology for my misjudgement.

I have to say that I am so glad that I approached the situation with delicacy rather than coming at her like a warlord, questioning her about why my child was watching movies every day. I would've been so embarrassed!! So, you're probably wondering how I handled it, right? Well, this morning when I dropped Squeaker off, I simply asked her what he's been doing for her. No judgment in my voice. Just simply wondering what kind of work he's been producing. So, she showed me.

Not only did she show me what he was doing, but she told me how blown away she was with his skills. He knows all of his pre-primer words. He is sounding out words that he doesn't know. Even harder words, like "friends." He's doing math problems in his head. He's read all of her pre-primer books. He's so far ahead of all of the other kids in the self-contained class that he's getting a lot of one-on-one attention at his level because she feels like it would be unfair to hold him back. He's too smart for what they're doing. He can do more.

My Little Reader

Not only that, but he is starting to socialize more with his peers. Moreso, of course, when they have cars and trucks. But, when he's on the playground, he's doing well with other students. He's not had a major meltdown since last week. Granted, he's getting a lot of one-on-one attention, so that does help control the tantrum, but he's still doing amazing.

All of that being said, she talked with the Autism specialist yesterday about his progress and how he's doing, and they're going to start trying to mainstream him. There is a 1st grade teacher next door that has a special ed degree and is very calm and she's going to send him over a little at a time with a TA for support. We're going to try to let him spread his wings, and I really hope he flies.

As I left his school today, I had tears in my eyes. But for the first time in a really long time, they were happy tears. My son is doing well. He's finally showing everyone just how smart he is. And I couldn't be prouder.

Why I'm Already Worried About This School Year

2013-09-05T22:40:00.001-04:00

As parents, we always want to see our children grow the most they possibly can. Last year, I saw Squeaker made phenomenal educational gains, especially in the areas of math and spelling. Heck, even writing could be considered a huge area of growth for him since he went from not writing to writing words that were at least a little legible. It was nothing short of amazing. We work really hard to maintain as best we can with him. We do our part as parents. I've even gotten him some extra Occupational Therapy (outside of the school system) to help with his fine motor skills since he only gets 30 minutes once a week at school (and the more I think about that, the more ludicrous that feels to me considering the huge delay he has there).

Anyway, this year he has a new teacher and he's at a new school. And when I say new teacher, I don't just mean new to him. I mean she's only in her second year. Now, that doesn't mean she's automatically going to be a bad teacher. I was a first year teacher once. Even a second year teacher. And my students made tons of growth--just ask my old boss, who was soooo upset when we moved away. His teacher last year was a first year teacher, too, and she did a fabulous job with him. But, you know, it just makes me nervous.

On top of that, professionally I've seen some of her work because she used to work at the school I'm working at currently. Perhaps I shouldn't base her teaching ability on her paperwork, but it makes me a bit leery. I try to give everyone a fair shake, because, well, it's only fair. Preconceived notions are not always true, and she seems really nice, but I am not a patient parent. I'm always watching and wanting more for my child. I'm patient with him, but if I feel like something isn't quite right, I start wanting to dig for information.

So, when my son comes home from school multiple days out of the week telling me that he's watched movies at school, I start to worry. So far it's been Cars, Scooby Doo, and today it was Monsters, Inc. He did have one note in his agenda about him being able to read the words in his unit, including the word "different," but I've seen no other indication of educational work being completed. When I ask Squeaker concrete questions like, "Did you do any writing today?" He answers "No." He acknowledged that some reading was done today, but not by him--by his TA.

First sign of any work done!

He's smarter than what it seems like he's doing, and I'm terrified that he's going to fall farther behind. I was worried about it with the new teacher. And I was even more worried about it when I heard that he was in a class with mostly Kindergartners. There is one other first grader in his class, and I don't know what kind of academic level that child is. All I know is, if he's watching movies and not being pushed at all, of course he's having green days. That makes total sense. But what happens if the movies stop all of the sudden? What if he gets used to that? If this goes on too long, she's gonna have a fight on her hands.

I know I'm putting a lot of stock in what my child is reporting and communication is not his strong-suit, but I brushed aside his telling me he watched Cars and Scooby Doo because he watches those at home fairly frequently. Monsters, Inc., though, he does not. So, I guess now I will have to ask his teacher about the movie thing. I also want to make sure she's aware that he wrote at least a little something every single day last year. He needs to practice. If we are to ever hope to get him out of a self-contained classroom, he has to be able to do his work without meltdowns. And he needs to be moved forward often with reasonable expectations.

I am a parent that wants results. I want to see my child do more and more and more. It's fine if what he's doing is the best he can do. I am not unrealistic. But last year I got a taste of just how far he could go, and I know how smart he is now. I want him to do what he's capable of, and continue reaching and stretching just a little bit farther and closing those gaps. It's his Special Education teacher's job to help him with that. And Elementary School is the prime time to do that.

And maybe fixating on his education makes me a worry wart, but it's so important. And when Big Guy goes to school, it will be the same with him. I am involved. I care. And that is not changing.

Birthday Doughnuts

2013-08-31T16:09:00.004-04:00

It was the first week of school, and all through the halls,

Not a student was stirring, no Principals called.
The lesson plans made were done with great care,
In hopes that the attention of students were snared.

Students had knowledge poured in their heads,
And most did the homework they started to dread.
And with school in a hurry, schedules made in a dash,
We were certain to find EC schedules would clash.

So all of the sudden, I rose with a clatter,
And got with my team to attend to this matter.

Birthday Doughnut! Yum!

We were thankful to have supportive admin,
Because only a big rearrangement would win.

Our plan formulated and started to grow,
And a glimmer of hope was commencing to show.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But schedules that suited our students this year.

Relieved that we had gotten that out of the way,
I hadn't realized that it was my coworker's birthday.
When we went to get doughnuts the knowledge came out,
"There's no way you're paying!" I said with a shout.

To my other teammate and I picked up the bill,
Rejecting her money with determination of will.
She was happy to see that we had cared so much,
And expressed feelings of being truly touched.

When we finished day, we all felt such relief,
Things had gotten well, which was beyond belief.
And when my coworker had finally left for the night,
I knew that more than one thing had gone right.

So join in on the fun, you don't have to write it in poetic form like I did today, but write about something selfless you've done this week. Add my Selfless Saturday button using the code on the right side of the page, and link up on my Facebook page.

What are some things you do for other people's birthdays? Do you celebrate the birthdays of your coworkers?

Floating Alone

2013-08-29T22:06:00.001-04:00

Floating Alone

In his own space he floats like a balloon.
He's happy going it alone,
Daydreaming, soaring in the sky.

Coasting down from private a sky,
Careful, safe, in his balloon.
The one that's his and his alone.

It makes us sad that he's alone.
No one's allowed with him in his sky.
He won't let friends in his balloon.

His protective balloon, muffling the sounds of the world around him, keeps him blissfully alone as he floats in the chromatic sky.

That would be my son, there, in the corner. While all the other kids in karate were happily participating, my son chose the corner. He spent 90% of the class time picking at his hands, arms, and knees. When asked if he wanted to join class, he said, "No." Even before the corner, he was just standing there. Just standing, doing nothing. Focused on his hands. His arms. Picking. In his own world.

There's a sense of desperation I feel when I see him this way. When I see him in a crowd, but alone. And I feel crestfallen. The longer he does nothing, the sadder I feel. Maybe I shouldn't. He doesn't seem bothered by it at all. I don't know what is in his head, but he doesn't seem to mind being alone. Should it bother me? I don't know. Maybe it shouldn't. But it does. More than anything, I want him to have friends. A social life. But is that for him or me? It doesn't seem to make him happy at all. He just wants to be alone, really, unless someone has something he wants to play with.

Yes, he needs to learn to socialize to function in society. But part of me feels guilt for feeling sad that he's isolated because that feels selfish in a way. Like, I just want him to be normal. But what is normal, anyway? It's not like I have an easy time being social. Or maybe seeing him alone triggers that sadness inside of me that I feel when I'm alone, and I feel that for him when I see alone, even though he doesn't seem to mind.

He just floats along. He's blissfully unaware of the people around him, unless they play a large role in his life. Family matters. School matters. Karate matters inasmuch that he feels like if he earns a new belt, he gets to go out to eat. But for the most part, he's in his little bubble. His balloon. And if we can get him to float on down from wherever he is up there and socialize with us, we are so, so lucky, because there is a brilliance in there that I wish he would share with more people.

Autism Services: Supply and Demand

2013-08-28T20:50:00.000-04:00

In the world of Autism, services are in high demand, but low in supply. I think the law of supply and demand applies two-fold to the world of Autism. Things, perhaps, are getting better, but it's way too slow. And in that vein, we sit and wait for help because it seems like, no matter how severe things feel to us, it's just not bad enough to warrant any help. And that's kind of where we are at last check with our application for Intensive In-Home Services.

Easter Seals felt that we were good enough applicants to send a psychiatrist out to our home and evaluate the situation. They even told us afterward that we had a good chance of getting accepted. I mean, we have enough nights of my son hitting, biting, and kicking that I felt that we needed things to change. We need help. If not to protect me, his brother, and the dog, to protect him from himself.

And then Easter Seals told us that they denied the application, and I sent in a letter to the Governor and everyone else in the legislative body of North Carolina that I could think of. Enough is enough. I've been asking them if there was some way I could get a therapist to come in our home for months. I got a call from the Division of Medical Assistance (DMA) and was told I should've gotten a letter of denial, but I didn't. After some investigation, we found out that Easter Seals never filed an application. Why? Because our Local Management Entity (LME) told them not to bother because it wouldn't be approved due to lack of funding.

If they'd been paying any kind of attention, they'd realize that we are not the kind of people that just let things go. The direction from the DMA was to make sure Easter Seals filed the application through our LME so that we could get a denial letter if they denied it and then we could file an appeal. If we don't get the results we want from the appeal, we can continue to file an appeal until, finally, it makes its way to the DMA and we have a hearing and a determination is made from there.

What gets me, though, is how our LME tried to totally deny us of our rights by circumventing the entire application process. Because, you see, if no application is filed, they don't officially deny it. And if they don't officially deny it, there is no paper trail. There is no denial letter. If there is no denial letter, I have nothing to appeal. If I have nothing to appeal, I can't get the services. How twisted is that? It really pisses me off that they tried that with us. And it makes me wonder just how many people they do this to. How many people are denied their rights because they don't know any better? I bet it's a lot.

Things like this infuriate me. As a mother of a child with Autism, as a teacher, and as a caring person, it unsettles me. Especially since we're denying rights of people who are trying to help their children, here.

So, person-to-person...and from one autism parent to another...please know your rights. If this has happened to you, call someone and make it known.

I realize funding is shamefully low, but at least give us a fighting chance. At least look at our application. The question I had to ask a few weeks ago was, "Does my son have to put a hole in one of our walls before we get some help?" Well, this week he did. Why? Because we tried to make him go to bed and he was upset that we closed his door.

Easter Seals has now officially filed the application and now we're waiting to hear officially what the decision will be. I'd like to say I'm hopeful, but I'm not. I'm really not. The battle ahead will be a long one.

My 1st Grader

2013-08-26T20:51:00.000-04:00

Doesn't he look handsome?

His first day was awesome, by the way. He had a green day and the note on the folder said, "very polite." That's my little gentleman.

The first week should be fairly easy. It will be him and one other first grader in the class. It's a mixed class with first graders and Kindergartners, and the Kindergartners don't start until next week, so he will be able to get acclimated before the other students arrive. For lunch, he ate applesauce and he had animal crackers for snack, and that's all he ate today, aside from the Lara bar we had him eat before giving him his medication this morning. I'm glad we made him eat before medicating him. The new medication we started him on kills his appetite more than the other stuff did (Daytrana patch vs dosing him three times a day on Focalin).

Anyway, other than having an accident on his way to the bathroom and otherwise refusing to use the bathroom during the day, it appears he had a really good start, and he seems happy about how the school day went. Thumbs up here!

I just need to work out all of the kinks that come with the changes. We will have not got the rest of the week figured out as far as who will pick him up from school and I've got meetings and after school duty all week. I was super late getting to work this morning because of walking him to his classroom, which happens to be all the way down on the far side of the building and then remembering that his car seat was still in the car and having to do it all over again. And we have to do this whole car rider card thing that we put in the window and I did not have time to pick that up with the mile long line in front of the office this morning.

But, he sure did look handsome today!! And seriously? It is so weird to call him a first grader. So weird. I had to fill out a gazillion forms this evening (because he had no homework, but I had plenty), and putting that little "1" beside "grade level" instead of a "K" felt epic. He's going to be seven in October. He's in the first grade. Yet, when I look at that picture, he still looks so tiny compared to the size of the school and all of the people around him. I guess he'll grow into the school, but I'm not rushing it. First grade is big enough for now.

Quit Moving My Cheese, Now

2013-08-22T22:59:00.003-04:00

You've heard of that book Who Moved My Cheese, right? It's all about dealing with change and how to handle things when people move our "cheese." Well, there's been all of of dang cheese-moving in my life lately. And I think I've been pretty good at being a lot lot Sniff and Scurry, doing whatever it takes to get back at it and find my cheese again. I don't like to Hem and Haw about. That's not my style. It makes me anxious. I'm not the type to just stand around and wait for things to happen to me. So, when the figurative cheese moves, I move with it. I adjust. But, that doesn't mean that adjustment isn't hard.

Work has been an adjustment. I'm team leader at my school now. I have welcomed this change. In fact, I asked for it because I'm a control freak and wanted to make sure things were done correctly. Our team has come from all over the place. No one was at the school last year, so no one really knew, coming into this, how things went here last year. We were all moved around, and we all are in this together. Makes for a special bonding experience, but it's also stressful trying to figure things out. Plus, the files are a mess and we have quite a bit of clean-up to do. We're getting it done, though. One thing at a time, right?

The biggest thing is that I'm having to deal with the changeover for Squeaker to a different school. We've taken him to his new school a few times over the summer to help with the adjustment and he's taken some ownership of it, but still talks about his old school as if the old school is still his, too. Unfortunately, tonight he missed Open House at the school because his dad took him and his little brother to visit Grandma and Grandpa while I'm working and he's off work, which would've been a great time for him to meet his new teacher and TAs and see his classroom for the first time. Instead, I had his teacher take pictures for us so that he could at least catch a glimpse of the place. I'm trying really, really hard to make this adjustment easy on him. I'm not sure what some of the areas are designated for, but I've labeled some of them. Here they are:

Anyway, this week I've also had to last minute go to my county's board of education and have them sign a release to give the county I work for permission for Squeaker to attend school out of his home county, go to his old school and have them sign a form stating he was not a conduct problem, and fax that form to Central Office at the county I work at. Why last minute? Because it never occurred to anyone to tell me that I needed to do this again. Or at all. Because last year I didn't have to jump through all of these hoops. I was told about all of this on Tuesday, which led to panic, and me driving way out of my way after work yesterday to get a form signed with both kids in the car screaming at me. It was not fun. And now I wait on pins and needles, hoping my county does not reject my son as an out of county placement, as I've been told other employee's children have been rejected.

I have also given the medication form to the doctor's office last minute. Which is my fault, completely. But now there is no guarantee that it will be done in time to get it to the school by the first day of school, which would be awful. Because, of course, they have a stack of medication forms from parents just like me, who turned them in last minute. The thing is, though, it wouldn't have even been an issue if we hadn't changed schools. Because his old school already had the right form with the right dosage and all. Cheese. Moved. But we're adjusting. It's allll good....

Speaking of. When I went to his old school to get that form signed today, of course everyone knew who I was. Everyone remembers Squeaker. He's just got one of those personalities. Adorable. Sweet. Also kind of a mess and loud. But mostly adorable and sweet. And the lady at the front said that she'd heard he wouldn't be there anymore when I told her. No one sounds happy about it. And I ran into his OT person there, and she was very unhappy about it because she was looking forward to working with him this year and starting him on the new sensory program they were starting there. He really had a great team of teachers there who cared a ton about him. The whole school knew him. Everyone watched out for him.

And as I walked out of there, this sadness washed over me. The same sadness that washes over me at times when I think about the kids that I used to teach over at my old school that I'm going to miss. Those people really cared about him. He had an awesome set-up there. That was his school. And he was only there a year. I know the teachers at his new school will love him, too. There is a lot to love. I haven't met a person yet who can resist his charm. I don't know what I'm saying. Perhaps I crave familiarity as much as my son does. Maybe moreso. I miss those smiling faces and greetings and wonder if they will be the same.

I wonder how that first day is going to go for Squeaker. Will he be excited? Scared? Nervous? Resistant? Will he have a good day? Bad day? I don't know. I won't know until the day comes and goes. I still don't even know who is picking him up that day, even though I keep asking (another problem). Change is scary. Taking that step into the unfamiliar without knowing where your foot is going to land next? I don't like doing that. I like to have all my ducks in a row.

So.

There are have lots of change. Job changes. Position change. School changes.

We're adjusting, but it's one step at a time. It's hard to tell how Squeaker's dealing with the change until he's actually at the new school. With all the things we've had going on this summer, I admit going back to school, in general, is a bit scary to think about right now, especially with it being a new school. It's a big transition. I hope it's a smooth one. I've done everything I can to make it the best one possible. I met with his teacher this week and told her everything I can about him, what causes meltdowns, some of the ways we try to handle them, what his teacher last year did, and things like that. I let her know that I am absolutely an involved parent (ahem) and that if there is ever anything going on, I'm on it, and I will do anything I can for him. My son will lack for nothing when it comes to his education.

I just really hope that with all of this change and all of this cheese-moving, we can still make this year a-maze-ing.

Letting Go

2013-08-18T21:15:00.000-04:00

To a person with Autism, routine is important. Sameness and familiarity is usually very comforting. My own child has had a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that he's going to a new school next year. He constantly brings up his old school, his old TA and his old teacher, as if he is going to somehow drag all of that with him, even as he brings up his new school. I've taken him to my new school and we've gone on many, many tours of his new school. I want to prepare him as much as possible for the change. Change is hard for us all (Hell, I'm having a really hard time with the change), but it's especially hard for a child with Autism, so I'm doing all I can to make the transition easy on him.

In the back of my mind, while I've been preparing my son for this change, I kept thinking about my students with Autism back at my old school. I kept asking myself who was preparing them for the change. Had anyone told them that I wouldn't be there anymore? There were two students that I had had for two years that relied on me quite a bit. That means a lot. If anything went wrong, they came to me. I was a source of stability for them. What was going to happen when, on the first day of school, they walked by my room and saw a new name on the door? I was losing sleep over this, and I had their mothers' numbers, but I was afraid to call and step on anyone's toes. After all, I had already gotten myself in trouble for advocating for a student.

I took some time and thought about it, and I realized that no matter what happened, as a professional, I owed it those students and their parents to allow them to prepare for the change, just as I had been able to prepare my own child. Not only that, but I felt as if the amount of time I spent communicating with those moms would allow me to communicate that change to them in a way that would soften the blow some. And so, I took a deep breath, and I placed the first call. And then the second call. And I didn't tell the parents the reason I had to leave, but that I was needed elsewhere and that I would've stayed with them if I could've. I told them that the staff there would take good care of their children and that I had given the team every bit of information about them that I could think of to help with the transition to a new case manager/teacher. Everything from where they were at progress-wise to how to prevent a meltdown to how to talk one of them down was included.

Some might say that this isn't a selfless act at all. I wanted to call them and say goodbye. And I did. I really wanted those students to know that I didn't just abandon them thoughtlessly, because that's not who I am. I teach with my whole heart. But, here's the thing that I didn't do that I really want to: When those parents told me how much they wish I was still there, because I did so much for their kids, and when they thanked me for everything I did for them, I did not ask them to write my old principal or central office to tell them that. I didn't ask them to demand that they put me back where I was supposed to be, because I was doing something good there. I simply told them "thank you" and that their children would be just fine with their new teachers and that I was confident that they would be well taken care of. When asked if they could contact me if they wanted to, I told them they had my number and my email address and I would be happy to hear from them. I plan to go to graduation to see them graduate. But in the act of telling them they would be fine, I let them go. I told their parents that it was okay for them to trust someone else. I admitted that I'm not the only person capable of handling their children.

And their kids, of course, will be fine. I know most of the team that is left at the school and they are great people. That selfish part of me just wants to be with my kids. You start to feel like a surrogate mother after a while. But, I suppose I will have new kids at my new school. More kids to mommick. And, just like the many, many kids before them, I will carry them in my heart always.

Have you ever had a hard time letting go of something/someone? How did you handle it?

10 Reasons to Smile

2013-08-16T21:50:00.000-04:00

Several studies* show that gratitude is one of the clearest predictors of good mental health. As a person suffering from major depression, it's easy for me to list all of the things going wrong. I could probably list 20 without taking a breath. Gratitude is something I need to work on. And when the going gets tough--like right now, when Squeaker is eating non-food items like marbles and cardboard and going into fits of violent rage--it's even harder to show gratitude. Regardless, it's important to try. After all, finding more reasons to smile means less depression and less stress. And as a parent of a child with special needs, the less stress you have, the better, because you have to be stay level-headed when things come up, whether it's meltdowns, or fighting for services, or dealing with bullies or school.

Anyway, today I decided it would be a great day to come up with 10 Reasons to Smile. So, here they are, in no particular order.

My Masked Avenger

1.) This morning, a Masked Avenger paid a visit to my house. What's particularly special about this visit is that this was made possible by a friend of mine, who, at the last minute, watched Squeaker yesterday when I had to go to the school yesterday to meet my new coworkers. He LOVES his new mask.

2.) Listening to Big Guy talk to ducks. It was one of the cutest things I've ever heard. I got it on video, too. I've had trouble uploading it, or I would let you hear it. Oh Em Gee. It's adorable!

3.) Caterpillars. Eastern Black Swallowtails to be exact. We're watching them grow and go through the cycle to turn into butterflies here at the house. I'm so excited to share this experience with the boys.

Talking to Ducks

This is also courtesy of the same friend who watched my son and made masks with him and her children. She had some caterpillars in her garden, captured them, and saved them for people to keep as projects. Great friend!

4.) I met my new team yesterday and everyone seems really nice. I was scared of what I was walking into and I'm glad that not only was everyone willing to meet before we actually had to be there, but they all appear to be friendly.

5.) This year, I'm going to be the Team Lead of my EC Department. I'm slightly intimidated by the task, as it's a huge opportunity, but it's what I wanted. It will help me grow as a teacher and a person, and it gives me a chance to be more of a mentor.

Black Swallowtail Caterpillars

6.) Squeaker's mentor is able to help out for the first two days I'm back at work and The Manager is able to take off all of one day next week. These teacher workdays can be stressful when it comes to having him taken care of because he's not in school and is not able to go to any type of daycare due to his need for one-on-one attention, so it's a huge relief to have him taken care of. That's one more year juggled (12 more to go, give or take)!

7.) Squeaker got to have a really special camp this summer, made just for children with Autism, thanks to our local chapter in coordination with a local recreational therapy center. He loved it and couldn't wait to go every day. The weeks they had off were rough and he totally hated not going those weeks. But, those weeks he got to go, those were awesome. I'm so, so grateful that he had that camp. Camp Smile made us smile.

8.) My letters to various legislative offices have already elicited some responses. I've gotten emails and phone calls already. I found out today that we were supposed to have received a letter stating that our request for Intensive In-Home Services has been denied so that we can file an appeal. When I told the lady at DMA that no such letter has been sent to us thus far, she told me that was the first issue...and while she was the wrong person to help me, she was going to make sure the right person received my complaint. Silver lining? Maybe! Somebody fucked up somewhere, it sounds like.

9.) Going out and test-driving cars with The Manager. I'm going to get a new car in October, so I did a test drive of the Mazda CX-5 and the Chevy Equinox LTZ. The Equinox made me feel powerful, which makes me want to buy it, but I'm looking at the gas economy of the Mazda, which is just as beautiful and a close second, and it's 3mpg better than the Equinox in the city. So, I still have a little thinking to do. Driving those cars felt so awesome, though. That new car smell. Just something about it!

10.) This joke, told by Squeaker today...
         Him: Why did the chicken cross the road?
   Me: I don't know. Why?
         Him: To get smooshed by [Squeaker]'s monster truck. QUACK!
        First joke, ever made up by him, to ever have a recognizable punch line. Isn't it awesome?



*Wood, A.M. et al (2010). Gratitude and well-being: A review and theoretical integration. Clinical Psychology Review.
Emmons, R.A. & McCullough, M.E. (2003). Counting blessings versus burdens: An experimental investigation of gratitude and subjective well-being in daily life. Journal of Happiness Studies.

A Little Help, Please, Mr. Governor

2013-08-14T22:23:00.002-04:00

Today, I got news about the Intensive In-Home Support that I applied to a couple weeks ago. The conversation basically went like this: I'm sorry, but even though you were qualified and they were really looking forward to working with you, the state rejected you because you don't have Medicaid and there is no funding available from the state. You see, private insurance doesn't cover stuff like this, and people like me don't get services like this in times like these. Not unless we're really pushy and that pushiness pays off. Which is really, really exhausting and frustrating and heartbreaking. So, before I lost my energy from being pissed off at the system, I went ahead and wrote my letter to the system. And you can see it below...

To Whom it May Concern (If Concerns ANYONE At All):

About two weeks ago, Easter Seals felt that my family would benefit from Intensive In-Home Support. For about a year now, we’ve been receiving Personal Assistance and Respite Services for my son, who has ADHD, Autism, Sensory Modulation Disorder, and Anxiety. I think there might also be some kind of behavior disorder thrown in there for good measure, but variety is the spice of life, you know? He is six years old, and we’ve already been through the mill with him. Right now, he’s supposed to be in bed. Instead, he keeps coming out of his room, and we’re begging him to go to bed. This is an every night ordeal. I guess you can add undiagnosed Insomnia to our list.

So, why would we need Intensive In-Home Support? If anyone at the state office would care to look further at his file, they would see that we’ve been dealing with some behaviors that really need some attention. My son has been exhibiting self-injurious behaviors for quite some time. His head-banging and biting is something that has been going on for years. At one point, we thought we were going to have to get a helmet, but he moved on from head-banging to general body-slamming. Our fear now is that he will suffer knee damage from slamming his knees so hard on the floor. Or that his angry flipping will cause him to either break something in the house or injure his two year old brother on accident. Not only does he injure himself, but he can be extremely disruptive. He screams and shouts so loudly that it disturbs everyone around him. This is not just a problem at home, but at school. He exhibits the self-injurious behavior and the shouting in both places. Anyone looking at his IEP would see that.

But that’s not all. Although I had asked for more support out of fear for his safety months ago, now things have changed. My son, who used to only hurt himself (as if that’s not enough), has now begun lashing out at others. Through his meltdowns, he has been known to hit, kick, and bite others. Most of the time, he goes after me (his mother), but he has also been known to go after his two year old brother. Sometimes he even goes after our dog, who has been a saint through all of this. At times, he throws objects across the room, not really paying attention to who or what is hit by these objects. We handle these episodes as best we can, but no one seems to have any real advice as to how we can eliminate the behaviors.

So, when we had someone come to the house and explain Intensive In-Home to us and evaluate our son for the service, I was thrilled. We were all but guaranteed that we’d be eligible, but knew that funding from the state was our only stumbling block. We thought, though, that our clear need would get us past that hurdle. After all, who denies a family in need a service? Who does that?! The State of North Carolina does, I guess, because we were denied. Like every other thing we’ve ever been denied, we were denied this. And I’ve got to tell you, I’m at the end of my rope. I don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve been kicked in the face more times than I can count. I’ve been punched in the head. I’ve had to try to keep my son from kicking his two year old brother while I was sitting on the toilet. And I have degenerative disk disease, so none of this is easy for me. We need help!

For the life of me, I cannot understand why two hard-working people like my husband and I cannot get the services we need for our son. It’s my understanding that there are people who get this service that do not even want it. It is court-ordered and they don’t even cooperate with the service. We are begging for it. Please help us. Regular therapy did not help. We go see a therapist in Greenville that gives us some support, but she does not come to our house and see him in action and give us advice in the moment. Medication regulates him to some degree, but is not the end-all, be-all for any child. We need real, honest-to-goodness advice on how to handle our challenges.

The people at Easter Seals agree that we are perfect candidates for this program. I just wish the state would agree that we were worthy of the funding.

Is there any way you could help us get our needs met?

Sent to three people in the North Carolina House, one in the North Carolina Senate, and Governor of the great state of North Carolina. The question is, will any of them care enough to help?

What do you do when you feel like your child's needs are not being met?

Happy Face Days

2013-08-11T15:00:00.002-04:00

In this house, happy face days are something to celebrate. Squeaker has had two happy face days in a row. TWO. And since explosiveness has, at least lately, become the norm, this is quite the accomplishment. This is not to say that he didn't have meltdowns during the day--this is part of the Autism world, at least for us. But, he's settling down much quicker and they're occurring less frequently. I'm trying to turn off the voice in my head that tells me it's the calm before the storm and just enjoying it. Staying in the moment. It's something I need to work on, because we have some pretty wonderful moments.

In fact, yesterday was pretty fantastic. We started off by taking the kids to see Planes, the newest installment of the Cars franchise. Squeaker loved all of the Cars movies, so this was a natural choice. In fact, we gave him a choice between this movie and Despicable Me 2, which was still in theaters last weekend, and this was what he wanted. He has as many of the characters from Cars as we've been able to get our hands on--he has gotten them as rewards on his good weeks. He's absolutely obsessed with his "guys." My review of the movie? It fell flat. Big Guy was bored with it and lost interest about 30 minutes in, and that kid will sit and watch some TV for a while. He was more interested in the movie previews than the movie (especially the Walking With Dinosaurs trailer--the kid loves dinosaurs). Squeaker was good with watching it, but did stop and ask for ice cream a few times. It was not as good as the other two movies. But, we got some staying power out of it by getting some popcorn and munching on that through the movie. Yum! I love theater popcorn, even if it is way overpriced!

After the movie, we went to Wendy's for lunch. It was a means to an end, really, because we had promised Squeaker ice cream. So he sat there and stared at his food, refusing to eat any of it because he wanted ice cream. Of course, as soon as he mentioned ice cream, Big Guy stopped shoveling food in and refused to eat his, too. Brothers. That was our stand-down for the day. So, he had to eat some food before he could get a Frosty. And then we enjoyed some ice cream. Big Guy and I were the exciting chocolate lovers and The Manager and Squeaker got boring ol' vanilla. Well, Squeaker got some chocolate, too, because when he was done and Big Guy was still working on his, he wanted more. He was insatiable, so he got the best of both worlds, so I guess he thought that was a pretty sweet deal.

After ice cream, we went to the waterfront to see the ducks and seagulls, take a walk, and watch the drawbridge let the boats through. The kids love terrorizing the birds, squawking at them and seeing them fly. The seagulls move pretty fast, usually, but the ducks have become pretty placid. And we always have to walk past the bridge to the benches and wait until someone has to pass through, because Squeaker loves to watch the bridge go up and Big Guy loves to watch the boats go through. By the end, both the kids were pretty tired. Squeaker almost didn't make it to the car, he was so exhausted, and Big Guy fell asleep on the way home.

All in all, it was a good day. We had nothing but calm the rest of the day. Is this the calm before the storm? I don't know. But, this is like a breath of fresh air. Enjoying--truly enjoying--our time with him. Less struggles. More snuggles. And I'm going to breathe it all in while I can.

What's the best day you've had with your family?

A Kick in the Head

2013-08-08T15:15:00.000-04:00

The other day, I got kicked in the head. I'd like to say it was an accident. That he didn't mean it. That he was hyper and flipping around like he usually does and his feet just landed on me. But the truth is, my son kicked me in the head. On purpose. All I wanted to do was get his socks on him and get ready to go to camp, which he really enjoys going to. But he, instead, kicked me in the head.

We were running late. The sensory diet that OT started us on last week went out the window because he was fighting me on that, too, and I couldn't get him to cooperate with me. His only job in the mornings is to get his shoes. That's it. I gave up on the socks and told him to get his shoes. I'd just get his socks on when we got to camp and he was stuck in his seat. He ran around the living room wildly and starting going after the dog. The poor, patient, ever-suffering dog. I told him to leave the dog alone, which only made things worse. He shoved me a few times. I always try to catch him and redirect, but he's strong. The he took a shoe and threw it at the dog. He missed, picked it back up, and took aim again. He missed. He picked it up again...I came over and took the shoe. I got shoved again.

Finally, even though we were running late, I used the element of surprise and quickly scooped him up and carried him to his room before he knew what was happening. I told him he was not allowed to treat me or the dog that way. It was time for a time-out. Time-outs are not effective for long-term treatment of the problem, but it gives me a break and the dog needed one, too. It also gives him a chance to calm down. Hopefully. It doesn't always work, but sometimes it does. While he was in his room, I got everything to the car.

I made him tell me why he was in his room when he came out and he apologized. It's mechanical, but I feel like he needs to acknowledge what behavior is acceptable and what isn't. He knows. He got his shoes and we left.

We had karate that afternoon. Usually he does well in karate. Not this day. He did not want to participate. He ran rampant. I could not control him. He literally ran circles around me. This is where I wish I had the strength and vitality to do what needs to be done. We would've been out of there so fast! He clearly was off that day and could not handle being there. I could tell at the beginning of class that he was off--he was scratching at his skin and pulling at his karate uniform. He doesn't usually do those things. Anyway, it was pretty awful. I don't entirely blame him for his behavior. I think he was on overload and afterward he told me in his own way that his afternoon had not gone the way it usually does with his mentor, so I think he was just completely thrown off by that, too. I was thankful that there was another Autism mom there to help talk me down after my friend, who co-owns the place, put Squeaker in a time-out there. I was at the end of my rope and feeling really shitty about not being able to handle the situation.

And that's the issue, really.

It's not that I blame my child for being who he is. I have come to understand that we need to find some strategies for dealing with these behaviors. Something is off with him. He has started eating non-food items like marbles and paper and cardboard. This aggressive behavior has only just begun in the past year. He is picking mercilessly at his fingers--to the point where they are bleeding. So, there is just something not right. I'm going to make an appointment with his pediatrician and figure this out. And I'm still waiting for Easter Seals to get back to us on this Intensive In-Home thing.

My problem is that my ability to physically handle things is diminished greatly because of my back problems. And I have been unable, really, to have that dealt with beyond physical therapy, which is really my only option at this point. No doctor is going to do surgery on a 31 year old woman only she insists on it because it's a major surgery and it alters the structure of your back. I don't have time for the recuperation, anyway. So this is where I am. Physical therapy, which feels, really, like a huge waste of money, though the therapist tells me that I have increased my flexibility. My back doctor tells me the depression and lack of sleep intensifies the amount of pain a person feels, which is something that my therapist also tells me. But, you know, that razor sharp pain that shoots down my leg when my son fights against me? I don't think that's depression pain. I can buy that my everyday pain may be intensified by my depression, but not that.

I don't know what I expect. There is not magical answer to my problem. It's something I have to live with. It's a confounding factor. And my son is smart. Both of my kids are. They know that if they sit down on the ground and refuse to move, they make things drastically more difficult for me. The more difficult things are for me, the longer they can put off having to do whatever it is they don't want to do. And that's what kids do. And that's why yesterday, when I had my appointment with my physical therapist and then my doctor and I realized there was no fixing my back, I slipped into a state of depression for the rest of the day. I felt so numb that when my son threw a cup at me, I didn't even flinch.

You see, the other day, my son kicked me in the head. But the idea that I have to live with this problem? That my children can get away with sitting down and not budging when they don't want to do something, even if it's just for a couple minutes? That they could possibly even put themselves in a dangerous situation and I may have to rely on adrenaline alone to protect them? That I don't go anywhere by myself with both of the kids because of this. That's a kick in the head, too.

Why I Dug in the Trashcan at McDonald's

2013-08-02T21:22:00.000-04:00

Fingernails already crusted with blood, I eyed the trashcan at McDonald's and thought, "Well, here goes nothing." I opened the two doors leading to the trash, rolled out the can, and used the two blue gloves kindly given to me by an employee to start picking through the trash.

How did I get here? Let me rewind.

We came to McDonald's because Squeaker had a late OT session and, frankly, neither of us felt like making dinner. Plus, Squeaker had been bugging us about getting that last Minion, so...you know...here we were. The guy that took our order, Chris, even went searching for the right Minion for us. He didn't find it, but he took the one out of the display and gave it to Squeaker. Apparently Minions are over tomorrow. Lucky us!

Oh, do you think that's what I was searching in the trash for? Nope. That's not it. I kind of went off on a tangent there. Sorry!

Anyway, Squeaker had a loose tooth that he had been working on that afternoon. He had already lost two other teeth in the past year or so that I had been unable to retrieve, so this was kind of significant. This particular tooth was destined to come out on my watch. It was going to go under his pillow and we were going to have a tooth fairy moment. Our first tooth fairy moment.

Finally, after dinner was over, we managed to wiggle that sucker out. It was messy, I got blood under my fingernails, but it was worth it. He was so excited. We talked about putting it under his pillow, the tooth fairy coming, and getting money to buy something special. He thought it was awesome. I was super excited too, because I actually got to participate in the whole baby tooth thing for the first time, after he lost his third tooth. He's actually lost two teeth in two days, and I got to witness this one, so this is special.

When it was time to go, we cleaned up the table and went to the car. Squeaker got in the car, turned to me, and asked me where his tooth was.

"Crap," I said, and told The Manager that I left the tooth inside. I prayed that it was still on the table. Please God, let it still be on the table.

I went inside, looked on the table, and my heart dropped. In disbelief, I looked on the floor. Under the seats. I looked everywhere. Anywhere but the trashcan. It can't be there, right? I wouldn't throw his TOOTH away! My phone rang. It was The Manager. He told me that if I threw it away, it was probably at the top of the trash can.

So, there it was. I knew if I didn't find it, it would be a bad night for us at home. Most kids would be devastated if their parents lost their baby teeth, right? But the meltdown mine would go through would be above and beyond that. I had just gotten him really pumped up about this. He was counting on putting that tooth under his pillow. This was special to him. To take that away? I didn't want to think about the consequence of that. I couldn't do that. I felt so bad about having been so careless, so there was no turning back now.

So, I stood in front of that trash can and I peered in, hoping it would just be magically lying on the top with an angelic aura of light around it. It wasn't. Two employees were sitting down eating dinner during their break and asked me if something was the matter. I looked at them, bereft, and said, "Yeeeah...I think I threw my son's baby tooth away..."

"Do you want to go in there after it?" the male employee asked me.

"I think I kind of have to," I said. "He's going to be devastated if I don't."

"Do you want me to get you some gloves at least?" the female employee asked me.

"That would be great," I said. "Thank you!"

She brought me some magical blue gloves. The kind of garbage digging, you know? Nice, thin plastic ones. I found the tooth pretty quickly. I did have to maneuver the trash cleverly, though, because it kept trying to fall deeper into the trashcan. But, I saved it. And then I held it into the air like a trophy and said, "I got it!"

They smiled at me and one of them said, "Good" or something like that.

And now Squeaker is sleeping soundly in his room with a tooth under his pillow. Just don't tell the Tooth Fairy that it's been in the trash can. I'm not sure if that decreases the value of the tooth or not...

What kinds of crazy things have you done for your children?

If you want to link-up with this week's Selfless Saturday, I already have it up for the week. It's open until Thursday, August 8th. If you want to link-up with your story of giving and helping others, all you have to do is add my button, which you can grab from the sidebar, and link up on Sl

Giving is Better than Milkshakes

2013-08-02T11:59:00.002-04:00

"Life's most persistent and urgent question is, 'What are you doing for others?'"

- Martin Luther King, Jr

Thursday, I was on my way to Chik-Fil-A after a particularly rough therapy session. I'm having a hard time dealing with the fact that I feel like so much of my life is out of my control. My son's explosive behavior, the fact that Big Guy is beginning to mimic him, and the persistent back pain from the degenerative disk disease. Hell, even my uterus has turned on me. Do you know I've been bleeding for 25 days? If my uterus had a middle finger, she'd be waving it right in my face. Anyway, my mind was still spinning with all the things we had talked about and I was processing strategies to deal with it all. My immediate strategy, though, was to get a milkshake. Milkshakes make everything better. Except your weight. It doesn't help that.

Anyway, as I pulled into the infinitely long line at Chik-Fil-A, I noticed there was a little tent set up and wondered what that was all about. I also noticed some girls walking around and going to people's windows. Clueless as I was, I thought maybe they were employees or something, keeping customers who were waiting forever happy. The Chik-Fil-As around here are notorious for their good customer service, so it was a possibility.

Well, I got closer to the drive-thru menu, and I saw that there was buckets with the girls. I rolled down my window as one approached, and for once I listened. They were collecting money for the Special Olympics. I didn't have much cash on me, but I had a little. I craned my neck a little to look at the menu, which I wasn't quite up to yet, to see if I had enough to spare some money and I gave her what I could spare. A lady came out out from behind a bush (I kid you not), and took pictures. I'm sure I had this stupid dumbfounded look on my face because I was not expecting that. They thanked me and told me to have a blessed day, and I felt some joy in my heart for giving to a good cause.

Then, I ordered my milkshake, went through the drive-thru window, paid, and got a fair amount of change back. I scanned with my eyes, looking for a person with a bucket. I had the spirit of giving in my heart, and I did not want to leave with this change in my hand. I had to give it away. Thankfully, as I pulled right up past the building, there was a man with another bucket, and I gave him the rest of my money. I smiled and waved at the lady that had jumped out of the bush as I drove away.

The Special Olympics "serves more than 4 million athletes with intellectual disabilities" every year. They were established in 1968 and the number of people served in this organization has grown every year. However, there are so many people more people out there whose needs are not being met. This is such a special organization. They bring such joy to the hearts of those they serve. I know this from experience. I have had students who have gone to events sponsored by this organization and they have had a BLAST there. My son has participated in Special Olympics activities and loved it. They are wonderful. If I had to do it again, I would go back with more money. Or, I would give them all the money and drive away without the milkshake.

In case you're wondering why I continue to post my Selfless Saturday link-up, it's because I'm hoping that eventually it will catch on. The feeling you get from giving and helping others is uplifting. Sharing those feelings with others is, I hope, inspiring. I do this not to make myself look better, but to inspire others to do the same for others.

With that said, here is the link to donate money to the Special Olympics.

If you want to link-up with your story of giving and helping others, all you have to do is add my button, which you can grab from the sidebar, and link up below (ends on Thursday this week):

Happiness is not a Choice, It's a Fight

2013-07-31T14:42:00.000-04:00

"Happiness is a choice. That's the thing I really feel. Like with friends who refuse to get happy, who refuse to rise above the discomfort of where they're at... And once you meet yourself, and truly love yourself, then you attract that." -Jennifer Aniston

Beautiful statement, right? Happiness is a choice. If you really, really want it, you can just be happy. It's just that easy, folks.

Here's the thing: Statement like that completely disregard the fact that there are people out there that suffer from depression. More people than you even realize suffer from depression. According to the CDC, an estimated 1 in 10 adults report depression. That's a huge number. And depression is not a choice. Oftentimes, there is a chemical reason for it and it can take a while to find the right medication to treat the depression. Even after that, they may have demons from their past to work through, which requires therapy. Therapy is not something that works overnight.

In other words, it's not easy thing to smile and have a fantastic day. To just be happy. Tell someone who's depressed that they need to snap out of it and choose happiness and you're likely to make it worse. Why? Well, don't you think they want to be happy? No one wants to be miserable! It sucks!

These jars need to be filled up daily.

Seven months ago, my depression literally had me in a life or death situation. I was so miserable and felt so worthless that all I could think about was death. Pills, gassing myself in the car, driving off the road. Anything to stop the pain. I was no good to myself, my husband or my children. I had told myself. Nay. Convinced myself that these were facts. People think that it takes a coward to commit suicide, but I felt like a coward for not doing it. Part of me was afraid that it wouldn't work and I would be permanently disabled from my attempt and even more worthless. Part of me was afraid of the Eternal Damnation (quickly ruled that out, as I had convinced myself that I was already in Hell). But ultimately, my children were the reason I didn't act on those thoughts. What would my husband tell them? How would they feel when they got older and found out? I didn't want to increase their likelihood of depression by becoming a statistic myself. I at least still had enough presence to think about what would happen to my children. That's what saved me. Not everyone is fortunate enough to still have that presence of mind.

I was in and out of the hospital three times from October until Christmas until they found the right combination of medications to get me back feeling like myself again. I found a better therapist and a different psychiatrist. It took me another few weeks after that to feel comfortable going back to work.

Am I "cured"? Hell no. I've come to the realization that, for me, depression is a lifelong illness. I've suffered from it for as long as I can remember. I will always have to fight for happiness. I don't always win. I don't always get to choose happiness. The sadness overcomes me sometimes. Sometimes I wake up feeling that way. I did choose to get help. I do choose to work on it every day. But it is hard work. It is especially hard to stay positive with deteriorating physical health and a challenging child, but I work really hard to see the positives every single day. No one can know my internal struggle but me.

Sometimes it's hard not to spill these jars.

Thankfully, I'm usually able to hide my dark secret from my students. They after ask me questions like, "Are you always this happy?" That's a blessing. I work really, really hard to look happy. It takes a lot of energy out of me to put on a production all day. To bottle up all the negative emotions and store them in the closet. There's only so much room in that closet, and sometimes the bottles spill out, but at least my students use up my bottles of happiness. I wish there was enough of happiness left in the bottle to make it through the entire day. Enough for my own children. I wish I didn't feel that it was stretched so thin that I felt I was pushing it with them on work days. Summer is easier. I have more energy during the summer. My fuse is longer due to not having to wear that mask of happiness all day.

But, my point is that happiness is not a choice for everyone. It's a struggle for quite a few of us. And I, for one, do not wish to feel judged for "refus[ing] to rise above the discomfort of where [I'm] at" to be happy and love myself.

Self-love is damn hard work. For me and 10% of other adults in America, so is happiness. I'm not saying happiness is impossible, because it isn't. I'm just saying, don't tell us we're not choosing to be happy. Most of us are fighting for it.

Have you ever suffered from depression or do you know someone who has? What are your thoughts on this topic?

The Explosive Child: An Approach to Consider

2013-07-30T16:00:00.000-04:00

As a parent, I'm sure we've all had our moments of frustration. Sometimes things just don't work the way we want them to. Children don't always listen. You want to go for a walk and the kids sit on the road and refuse to move (please tell me this doesn't just happen to me). Frustration is a part of life. Some of us have more frustration than others. I've written about my explosive child before. He has a hard time dealing with frustration, and it comes out in physical aggression, verbal aggression, and yelling. His verbal aggression is really minor. He doesn't use profanity. It's more like "stupid" and "shut up" and "hush," and that's just because those words are the ones forbidden in this house. He doesn't know the other ones yet (thank God).

Image from Goodreads.com

So, I picked up this new book, suggested by the therapist we drive almost 2 hours every couple of months to get to. It's called The Explosive Child, Ross W. Greene, Ph. D., and I read it with fervor, trying desperately to get to some answers while watching my child spin further out of control every day.Meanwhile, I have a doctor from Easter Seals come and interview me for Intensive In-Home Services, who pretty much assures me that we're great candidates for the program, but it takes about 14 days to get approved. He did tell me that the book is awesome, so after he leaves I just keep plugging away at it.

I like the book because it talks about the assumption that kids do well if they can and that challenging behavior is the result of lagging skills in the area of problem solving. So, the approach described that you're to adopt is "Plan B," which is a collaborative approach based in problem solving with your child. Plan B is definitely a good plan, as it gives the child a feeling of being in control, which is what children like this want, but is also gives them experience working on mutually agreed-open solutions, which is a life skill. Plan B, however, requires a great deal of communication with your child.

Step 1 is the Empathy Step. You would start with saying something like "I've noticed that..." and follow up with, "What's up?" For example: "I've noticed that you've not been wanting to go to school lately. What's up?" If you don't understand your child's answer, you drill for more information (not grill, but drill). This looks like saying things like "I don't understand..." or "How so?" or "Can you tell me more about that?" Your child may say something like, "I don't want to go to school because Marcus keeps picking on me."

Step 2 is Defining the Problem. That's when you enter your concern or perspective on an unsolved problem. This is only done after your listen to and empathize with your child's concern. You would begin by saying something like, "My concern is..." or "The thing is..." You don't start by telling your child solutions to the problem, just your concerns. For instance, "My concern is that if you don't go to school, you will miss out on your education. Also, you're not really solving the problem of Marcus picking on you by avoiding school."

Step 3 is The Invitation Step. This step involves brainstorming potential solutions. You have to involve the child in this step. Dr. Greene recommends starting with the words, "I wonder if there's a way..." For instance, "I wonder if there's a way for us to solve this problem with Marcus that you feel comfortable going to school again. Do you have any ideas?" That last question is the important part. Give your child the opportunity to solve the problem first. If they can't generate solutions, come up with possible solutions, but "don't be a genius."

Lastly, any solutions must be mutually satisfactory. That's the final rule of this plan. This helps keep the kid from exploding because it's fair, and it means that your concerns will be addressed by the plan as well.

My only criticism is that in a 293 page book, the section on working with explosive children without the language skills to use this collaborative approach is really only 7 pages long and usurped by more examples of children with language skills, rather than examples of how to use Plan B on children with lagging communication skills. This was very disappointing for me, as I have a child with communication delays and I was hoping for answers. Now I'm left wondering how to help my child still.

I recently tried to implement Plan B with my child, who is able to talk, but doesn't really understand things on the same level as most children. Granted, this was an Emergency Plan B situation, which is not recommended, but it is allowed. This is sort of what happened:

Me: So you don't want what we're having for dinner, what's up?
Squeaker: I want a banana.
Me: The thing is, you had a banana for snack and I'm concerned that you're not getting...

*explosion* Conversation over.

This is the typical way our conversations go. Getting to our concerns? Not heard. Mutually agreed-upon solutions? Not happening. His delays are not so significant that we should just give in to his desires immediately (as you would do in the 7 pages of communication delays in the book). But he shuts down immediately when speaking more than about 3 words to him. He's not able to process a lengthy dialogue and doesn't have the patience to listen to an exchange of information about a topic that doesn't interest him. That's one of the goals on his IEP, to engage in an exchange of 2-3 turns about a non-preferred topic (like, something other than cars, etc). So I'm at a complete loss, still, on how to handle this situation with him. And I've got about 2 weeks before I have any hope of help.

Thankfully, I can still put this book to use in the classroom, as I am a teacher and work with special needs children who do have language skills. I just wish I could help my own child...

How do you handle conflicts in your family? Do you think you could benefit from this approach? Let me know in the comments section, below!

Disclaimer: I was not asked to review this book. I picked it up and read it on my own and just wanted to share it with you all. If you are interested, this is more information on his website.

PS: If you haven't linked up with Selfless Saturdays, you should! Do something nice for someone, write about it on your blog, link it back to my blog (you can get the button on my sidebar), and then you can link up with me HERE. This week's link-up ends on Wednesday (7/31/13) at 11:59pm.

Life with Kids (Photo Version)

2013-07-29T08:42:00.002-04:00

Today I'm linking up with Monday Listicles and bringing you 10 photos of Life with Kids. Here are 10 of my most recent photos of my boys. Enjoy!

I think I will let the pictures speak for themselves. I think I have a full array of kids in their natural elements. From playtime to sleeptime. In sickness and in health. These are a few things I caught my kids doing (and my husband and my dog).

What do you catch your kids doing?

Providing Peace for Another

2013-07-26T23:05:00.002-04:00

“If you wish to experience peace, provide peace for another.” ~Dalai Lama

Nothing brings peace like holding a baby, right?

I had the great fortune this week of providing help to a friend. This particular friend is one that has paid it forward many, many times. If you want to talk about selflessness, she's the one I should really be talking about here. I can't even count how many times she's come to our rescue when I've had a teacher workday and needed help or when Squeaker has needed someone to pick him up from school. You see, he's not able to go to a regular daycare and when I couldn't pick him up, I would've been stuck if not for her and one of my other friends. Bless them both. And they never asked for anything in return. In fact, when offered a gift card, they only accepted it begrudgingly. Good people. Good people that I never thought I'd be able to repay, which made me sad because I owe them both so much for the times they've helped us out.

Selflessness. Being on the receiving end of it, I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. It feels good to have someone do something for you without expecting anything in return. To know that someone has your back. To know that you have someone you can count on. Kindness goes a long, long way. That's why I feel that what I'm doing means a lot. Why I wish more people linked up and did selfless acts for others publicly. There's a lot of nasty things going on out there in the world. Wouldn't it be nice to read some of the good stuff?

But I digress...this friend of mine, T, had a doctor's appointment for something fairly serious, her husband couldn't get off work, and so she felt she had to take her three children with her. Three young and spirited kids. And taking three young and spirited kids to the kind of appointment she had would've been a bad call. Can you believe she tried to get out of letting me help her?

This is what the conversation went like:

So, "no" was not really an option. And no, she's not right down the street. We live 48 minutes apart (according to Google Maps). But, she's driven back and forth to pick my son up more than a few times, and that's 16 miles from her house, so 32 miles round trip. Even if you count my round trip drive that day, which would be 96 miles, I know she's picked my son up from school more than 3 times, which would equal 96 miles, so she's still driven more miles than I did that day. So, am I being selfless? Eh. Debatable. I'm still saying this is more of a repaying of a selfless deed.

Four kids. None of them killing each other. *thumbs up*

She was all worried about her minions giving me trouble, but they were fine. I just gave them my teacher presence. Did they test me? Of course they did. That's what children do. Maybe one tested me more than others did, but she figured things out and then she followed me around everywhere. It was so cute. She stroked my face all sweetly and said, "When my mommy gets home, you can come play outside with me," after I told her I couldn't get outside with her because her baby sister couldn't be left unattended.

I even taught them to take pictures with my camera phone, which caused a bit of an argument between her two oldest, M and L, but that was quickly resolved by ending the activity. If we can't take turns nicely, it's time to put it away. And put it away, we did. But before we did, we took some interesting photos!

The one in the middle I helped with. The rest, they took.

Anyway, when T got home, I let her know that everything went well with the kids. They were perfectly fine. I wound up taking M outside for a little bit once Squeaker got picked up by his mentor (he had had it by the time she got there--overstimulated) because she was in need of attention and the baby needed to be fed. I wound up giving her a piggy-back ride to get her to agree to come back into the house. I stayed for a while, listened to how the appointment went, and chatted about some things.

In the end, it felt good to do something nice for her for a change. I know that it must have been a huge relief for her to not have to bring three children to that appointment. She expressed gratitude and told me that it was so much easier to form complete sentences without the distractions, which allowed her to get her point across the the doctor much easier and get her needs met. I think that we underestimate the importance that plays sometimes--being able to think and talk without distraction. We sound so difference when we speak in complete sentences. More coherent. Less scatterbrained. People are more apt to listen to us. I'm glad I was able to provide that for her. She's more than earned it.

Want to tell us about something you did for someone else this week? Link up here! Just make sure to add this nifty button and include a link-back to this blog!

Has anyone done anything selfless for you this week? Have you provided peace for someone else? Leave a comment in the comments section below!

My Thoughts on Labels

2013-07-24T14:21:00.004-04:00

I've known many parents who get defensive over putting labels on their children. ADHD is a dirty word to a lot of parents. People who don't understand Autism think it's a death sentence (it's not). I've been okay with "labeling" my son because it helps us define the problem and get him the help he needs. He's been able to get more support services at school, get into social skills camps, and things like that--because of this label that a lot of people are against. He needs it. If we feared the ~~label~~ diagnosis, he wouldn't get the help that he needed.

These are the diagnoses we had as of last Friday (the date of the OT evaluation we had done outside of the school system). This does not include his speech delays.:

Sensory Modulation Disorder was added. This diagnosis is important because now we can get some help putting together a sensory diet to help him deal with all of the things around him that get him "out of whack," so to speak. He just kind of has a general sensory disorder, in that many different things put him off-kilter. Touches, smells, sounds, etc. He's living in a world that he cannot regulate, and we have to figure out how to get him used to that world. Lack of Coordination is just something has to work on--poor kid can't isolate finger movements, catch a ball, or follow someone else's movements if it's more than basic.

Our pediatrician, I noticed when we turned in paperwork to the camp we took our son to, has put a behavior disorder in his file as well. I haven't been too happy with the persistence on the idea that Squeaker might have Oppositional Defiant Disorder on top of the Autism (and everything else). That's one diagnosis that I've not been okay with. But, looking at the requirements for diagnosing it, I can see where that diagnosis fits and where I was confusing that diagnosis with Conduct Disorder, which is much more serious and he definitely does not have.

Today, I had a psychiatrist come over from Easter Seals to evaluate Squeaker and sign us up for Intensive In-Home Services. Things have been getting pretty rough here for a while. He has gone from self-harming, which he still does more of than anything, to throwing things and hurting me and his brother (and, rarely, his father). I have been hit, kicked, punched, shoved, and bit. When we put him in his room, he screams, throws things around, and hurts himself. Trying to talk to him is impossible. I've tried using empathy with him and identifying his emotions with minimal success. Our reward system has ceased to work--he hasn't earned a car in a long time. Needless to say, the help is long overdue.

So, this doctor came and I was asked a lot of questions about his behavior and how long this has been going on and what we've tried and what we want to accomplish. He told me that he's definitely not looking to change our diagnosis of Autism because that sounds accurate. Apparently, there have been a few families where he's felt it didn't fit, but not ours, which is good, because I would've had a fight with him over that. He's also going to add Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Oppositional Defiant Disorder to our list.

It was easy for me to come around to the Anxiety diagnosis because we've known that was an issue for a while. Squeaker has to know where we're going, what we're doing, who's coming with us, and what's next. He gets really nervous about thunderstorms. He doesn't like having his light off. He wakes up if he hears noise during the night. He picks at his nails until they bleed. He's extremely nervous around people he doesn't know. All of that indicates anxiety.

The ODD--I've had to really think about. The reason is because children with Autism often come off as defiant because the world around them doesn't work the way they need it to, so they try to control it. I still think that's what he's doing, to a degree. He's trying to control his world to make it feel safer for him. But then there's that other piece of it. Where he pesters the dog relentlessly in the evenings--just to see the dog's reaction. Or he tells us "no," flat out, he's not going to do something. And no matter what we do, we cannot make him do it. Or he pushes his brother for no discernible reason. Of course, he also does things to please us--like cleaning up when I ask him to, and getting a diaper for his brother, and helping take out the trash. So you can see where I'm conflicted.

Either way, these labels don't define who my child is on the inside. He is who he is. He's still my baby. I carried him inside me for 9 months, gave birth to him after 20 hours of labor, and nursed him for 13 months. He's still the child that I read little board books to, watched roll over, then crawl, the sit, then walk. He's still the toddler I played silly games with and watched Little Einsteins with and watched speak his first words. He's still my little boy. The same little boy that I read stories to, watch tickle and play with his little brother, snuggle with on the couch, say silly things to, and sometimes even get to play with.

These labels exist merely to help him get past the behaviors that the labels describe. Some behaviors are more pervasive than others and will likely follow him the rest of his life, but that doesn't mean we can't find him some good coping strategies. Diagnoses are only as good as the services that exist to help moderate them. I'm forever seeking services, help, and support. Forever reading books, blogs, and research. Leaving no stone unturned. He is only six years old. We still have time to cross diagnoses off the list. That's what early intervention is all about.

Label, schmabel. Those only exist on paper. The only real label he has is the name I gave him at birth.

My Boy

What do you think about labels? Leave your thoughts in the comments section below.

PS: If you haven't linked up with Selfless Saturdays, you should! Do something nice for someone, write about it on your blog, link it back to my blog (you can get the button on my sidebar), and then you can link up with me HERE. This week's link-up ends on Wednesday (7/24/13) at 11:59pm.