To the Movie Theatre....And Beyond!

Well, well, what do you know?  It would apear that the long awaited Toy Story 3 is due to hit theatres mid-month...after years of waiting.  Our little man is a big fan of movies 1 and 2, so, naturally he is excited to see the sequel.  Allow me to clarify, he's excited to see with when it comes out on DVD and can be watched from the comfort of our own couch, in our own living room.  The theatre....not so much.

Gentle readers, you may recall my last attempt at taking himself to a movie Up! In Smoke .  It didn't go so great.  But it has been almost a year since that not-so-successful movie outing, and if Toy Story 3 can't help us get beyond this block, nothing will. 

So, the nature of the debate around these parts is, whether to try to, not force, but push him into going.  One side of the argument being, if he doesn't want to go, big deal, don't go.  The other school of thought being, going to a movie together is a nice activity, something we can all do together, something you can do with friends.  It's perhaps a place worthy of getting comfortable with.  What to do...what to do....

Here's what I'm thinking....wait until the movie has been out about a week, so the theatres aren't packed anymore.  Perhaps I'll aim for a weekday morning, and fit this in someday before school let's out for summer, and the city is once again brimming with school aged children all week long.  Just like before, I'll pack enough sweets to get us through....and hope for the best.  Maybe we'll read through "Curious George goes to the Movies" and "If you take a Mouse to the Movies" a few times, to put some excitement into going to the cinemas....and hope for the best.

And if all else fails, you get a full refund if you leave within 20 minutes of the feature presetation.

It's the Little Things....

It's the little things that always get you...that always turn out to mean the most, to be loved the most, and even hurt the most.  Life's subtleties.  Kind of like when you perfectly plan Christmas, and it ends up being a last minute stocking stuffer that steals the show. 
Well, this week my absolute favourite coffee mug turned up handle-less.  In short: I Was Crushed.  Let me give some background...it wasn't just any old mug, it was my CBC Radio St. John's Morning Show mug...much loved, much treasured, and very, very, very hard to get.  It took me about 5 years to get my hands on that little beauty, I had admired one years ago, being a big CBC Radio fan (more on that later), and have been promised by no less than 3 people that they could easily get me one.  'No trouble', I was told. 'I know so-and-so all to pieces over there, I'll ask for one next time I see so-and-so.'  Fast forward, didn't ever pan out.  One day, after my pining for a mug, hubby told me I'd have to suck it up and do call-ins for contests like everyone else, and earn one.   He was right, once I got the idea of being given one out of my system, it only took me about 2 months to win one, granted I had to go on air and answer a question, but I did it.  Caller on line 1, that was me.
Every morning, without fail, I get up, put on a pot of coffee, flick the radio on to Jeff, Cecil and Nancy and sip from my precious mug, smug all the while.  It's like I was in on something, part of their routine, or rather, I guess they are a part of mine.  So, in the face of my broken mug, I persevered....and kept drinking from it anyway, sure it was hot to the hand, but I would overcome.
What does any of this have to do with parenting Asperger's Syndrome?  Actually, quite a lot.  When I am home now, full time, CBC Radio offers me the adult conversation I crave, it's one little part of myself I've managed to secure.  From the Morning Show, to Radio Noon, Vinyl Cafe, or my oh-so-treasured Q...I don't get to hear them all the time, but I do get to hear them a lot.  They make me feel involved and in touch with the world outside of my house.
And more importantly, parenting autism has taught me first and foremost, that if you want something, you have to ask for it.  Whether that be wait-listed services, or reasonable accomodations.  So in keeping with this theory, I sent along an email to the good folks at CBC Radio...and guess what? 
There's a new mug waiting for me at the front desk. 
Sure, I know it's just a mug, and if I hadn't have gotten a new one, I surely would have survived.  But like I said, it's the little things....

Notes from Home

I've got to say, I love being home with the kids.  Even on the days I think I'm going to collapse...especially the days I think I'm going to collapse.  That doesn't mean that it's easy, in fact, I found that working part time in the past gave me a break, a change of scenery, a distraction, and something else to focus on from time to time.  But I just know that this is where my true work lies for now, and even trying to pretend that I could step away from here, and focus on something else is just an impossibility for the time being.

It's just too hard to go to work, when you are already holding down a full time, tonnes of overtime, highly demanding position.

But it is haaaaaarddddd....like, really, really hard.  On really heavy "sensory seeking" days, I am full out all the time.  Even easy days are demanding, filled with the endless tasks of fetching juice, serving meals, wiping spills, making beds, and let's not forget the enormous task of homeschooling.  However, recognizing the enormity of the work load is not the same as resenting it.  And needing 15 minutes to yourself to prevent from overloading isn't he same as being ready to throw in the towel.  This is by far, the most difficult, and the most rewarding experience of my life.

When I flip through Aiden's kindergarten work, and I see how much he has learned, and how many skills he has developed, I'm not just proud of him, but of me too.  We have both worked really, really hard... and I think it's fair to say that we've both seen great results.  To know that I'm putting my skills and my strengths to work for my own boy is deeply gratifying.  It is worth the days where it's a battle to get him to focus, and it is worth the days when he just can't sit still, to see the net result of all the days he did manage, and all the work he has done.

He hasn't succeeded only because he has leanrned to fit the mold of schooling...although there has been a lot of that.  He's succeeding because schooling is also learning to wrap itself around him, and his own individualized needs and learning style. 

On the hard days, and there are hard days, I am glad to know it is me who is dealing with him.  And not just dealing with him, but helping him.  My patience is born from love, and my discipline always has his best interest at heart.  When he hasn't slept well, and that's pretty often, or if he is going through a real serious period of anxiety, I know that he has the support and love he needs with him, and together we can face the world.

I found it hard at first to feel the pull and desire of staying at home...the feminist in me was confused by the tug of my heartstrings.  But my particular strand of feminist thought believes in women having choices, and having the ability to choose what works best for them and their families.

Hooray for Creativity!

Let me just begin with an apology...if you are a Facebook friend of mine..I'm sure you already know that Aiden just participated in a Creativity Fair with our homeschool association...and you probably also know that his picture won for the Kindergarten / Grade One age level!!  And if you didn't already know this, you do now! His winning entry is to the right...it's a track crane for those of you who aren't as well versed in heavy equipment as I am.

Proud is not the word.  It's not just that he won a prize, he didn't even know he was entered into a contest, and is a little too young to be competitive, and that is just fine with me.  It's that he had a chance to shine, he participated in something that was truly up his alley, and hubby and I got to see and hear people praise his little efforts.  It felt good! 

We're always so proud of his creativity, and have worked hard to let him know he has a talent, and to encourage him to work on his drawings.  And winning wasn't important, but participating in an event that highlighted his own particilar strength was good for him.  And us too.

And now I promise to stop bragging about it....however please note that this promise expires in about 5 seconds.

His display board

Recieving his Award

Remember Me?

Remember me?  I like good music, Canadian literature, scrapbooking, folklore, old graveyards, sitcoms that came on after 10 p.m., going out for coffee, shopping without a direct purpose (and not just at Walmart or the grocery store), chatting on the phone.....
This is a partial list of things I used to enjoy, ways I used to define myself.  And they're all mostly past memories.  I know being a mom means becomming selfless, but sometimes I can't help but wonder if I'll ever have time or opportunities to indulge my old interests again.
And now is the part where I make sure to qualify that none of those things hold a candle to being "Mommy" to my sweet little ones...but still...there's a twinge...a small hint of the me that used to be.
I see a lot of people who appear to do a better balancing act between Mom and Person than I do.  They can still maintain social lives, make time for themselves....all in all, they are still themselves.  I am sure that their  approach to parenting is much healthier than mine!  But then again, parenting a child with special needs makes balance an awful lot harder to achieve.
I know there's lots of merit to the "Be sure to make time for yourself" way of thinking...but usually when I hear that, it just sounds like one more thing to worry about.  Let's face it, when you have a child who often doesn't sleep, and an active toddler to boot,  you're just plain wiped out.  So time for myself involves getting to run to Walmart ALONE on a Saturday while hubby is home, catching a t.v. show while folding clothes, or, thankfully, yes thankfully, reading a book while the kids are eating their breakfast, or playing around me!
I'm sure all moms feel this way from time to time...just a little lost in the shuffle.  And these just may be the busy, hectic days of having small children that I'll pine for in years to come.... because I'm sure I'll never be as loved, adored or needed as I am right now.  My babies are young enough to view me with stars in their eyes....in a few short years, no doubt, I'll be more gatekeeper, rule maker, fun-spoiler....
And I'll be asking them to remember me just as I am now....

World Autism Awareness Day

This is a day to celebrate differences, celebrate our courage in facing obstacles, and to celebrate each other.
To anyone and everyone who refrains from passing judgement, who teaches their children the beautiful value of acceptance, who see the world in a myriad of colours, and like it that way, thank you.
To all the teachers who truly love children, who work hard to make schools user-friendly, respectful environments, thank you.
To extended families and friends who are loving and welcoming, who give warnings before turning on their vacuum cleaners, who don't get insulted if we can't make it, but continue to invite, or keep a stock of straws in their cupboards, thank you.
To all the siblings who become little ambassadors, who learn to speak up from an early age, to protect, to defend,who learn tht life isn't always fair, and have to sacrifice more than they should, and who often grow up to be the world's most caring, loving individuals, thank you.
And to all the moms and dads who speak for their children, who work to improve or extend services, who make places for their children in this world, who get up and go each day, even on the hard ones, you work not just for your children, but for mine too.  So, thank you.

No One Else Loses Sleep

I've come to realize that no one else loses sleep about my boy.  When my husband and I leave a doctor's office, or hang up a phone, us, and our life, gets placed in a folder, on a desk, or tucked away in a filing cabinet. 
Access to services have long wait lists, and even when you finally get to the front of a line, times between appointments and follow up appointments can be long, lonely stretches of road.  By the time you get back in an office, you have to reintroduce your professional to the child you now have...older, changed...different. 
I've spent the last couple of days on the phone.  I've been trying to get my follow ups in order...thinking that it just cannot be right for so much time to go by.  For us to be left dealing with issues, that surely somebody must know how to help us with.    As women, it often goes against our nature to be persistant, to speak out, to just try and have somebody to hear us.  Somebody to help us help our children. 
So, finally today, I'm feeling mildly successful.  I have 2 appointments coming up...no small feat.  In a system that is so backlogged, it's so important to make your presence known.
My boy isn't a client to me, he's not just one of the "ASD" kids I service...he's not a subcategory of patient.  He's one of two.  How could my sun and moon ever fall through the cracks?  It would be impossible for me to forget that this chunk of my heart needed services...so I have to serve as the reminder.  Because little boys don't make phone calls, and it's very easy to get lost in a jammed up, overworked system.
So sleep well Governemtn of Newfoundland and Labrador.  Pull your blankies up tight to your chins and slumber on... But just be warned, when you arise in the morning, autism parents are going to be expecting you to work for us.  Autism parents spend many sleepless nights, tossing and turning....vowing that something must get done, to rectify a pathetic, sparse, non-functional level of service.  And in a province with the highest rates of diagnosis...our voices may just ring loud enough to get heard.

Both Sides Now...

Welll, to say I've had an eye opener would be an understatement.  Little Miss Margaret turned the big 2 last month, and I realized that the sweet little girly needed something of her own.  So for the past couple of weeks I've taken her to a gymnastics class.  And she loves it.  Now, I'm not new to gymnastics.  t just happens to be himself's absolute favourite activity, on the planet.  He loves it, he doesn't do it, but he adores it nonethless.  Prior to now, my experience has been registering Aiden in gymnastics, paying the fees, and then watching him play with those great big stuffed blocks while the other kids followed instructions and honed new skills.  Now, that's not to say he didn't hone new skills, he'd go home and perform all of the new tricks, just not there.  He was too busy.  Blocks you see.  Towns to build, harbours to construct, etc.
Taking little Miss was a completely different experience.  When she wanted to jump on the big trampoline I felt a familiar anxiety...kids have to sit and wait and take turns on that thing.  Always was a issue for me in the past...but guess what.  No issues.  She sat and waited for her turn.
When other kids took toys she was playing with (they're all quite young) she just moved on, or waited for it to be returned.
And at the end, when they took out the parachute, I really had to fight a familiar urge to leave just a few minutes early.  Just avoid the whole thing.  But, nope, you guessed it.  No issues.  She took a piece of parachute in her hand, and shook it when told to do so.  "Make little waves." Yup.  'Make big waves!".  Sure thing.  'Okay boys and girls, everybody sit in the middle of the parachute, and we'll give you a ride!".  Oh no...flashbacks imagery of himself rolling onto others, getting overly excited flicked like a slideshow in my mind....but, she hopped in, sat with the other kids, and simply enjoyed the ride. Phewwwww.
So, now I know how it feels.  To go places, relax, and enjoy.  To realize that activities can actually be the fun they were intended to be.  To be one of those parents who can just go and do things.
Except it's a bit of a farce.  Let's face it, I had to pretend I was taking her to a doctor's appointment, so he wouldn't be heartbroken to know that gymnastics exists without him.  And, I'm the whole time comparing their behaviours.  And, I'm looking at it all now, and thinking back to when he was  two, and undiagnosed, and how overwhelming it must have been for him..I took him from playgroup to playdate, to activities, with nary a thought of how stressful it was for him.  And here's Margaret, joyfully joining in, oblivious to how easy she has it.
But at least I get a chance to sit and enjoy.  Watch her playing so well, having so much fun.  Parenting this typical child is in many ways daunting to me, sound  strange? Just think about it,  I'll have to step back from her, she won't need me to hover, to protect, to intervene.  I'll get to sit in parent waiting areas, drop off and pick up, pack lunches and kiss goodbye.  All unfamiliar territory to me.
Being her Mom is going to be different....but you know me, I embrace differences.

The Answer will Always be Yes

"Mommy, do I have beautiful eyes?"
"Yes, you have beautiful eyes."
"Mommy, do I have beautiful eyes?"
"Yes, you have beautiful eyes.  The answer will always be yes.  You will always have beautiful eyes."

Beautiful, blue eyes.  They sparkle, they light up, they often look pensive.  They often squint with laughter.  Beautiful, beautiful eyes.  Eyes that see the world a little differently than most.
I remember when you were first born, how those beautiful eyes locked in on mine, and then moved from me to your daddy and back again.  Right away we knew that those were beautiful, beautiful eys.
The times when I needed you to hear me, before we understood.  I worked so hard to get you to look at me with those beautiful, beautiful eyes.
And times when those eyes look scared, overly concerned...and I just want to make them shine again. 
Your eyes that scan the world, always on the lookout for unseen, but percieved dangers.  Real to you.

"Mommy, do I have beautiful eyes?"
"Yes baby.  You have beautiful eyes."

My Little Shadow

Morning Routine: Step 1: Little man wakes at an ungodly hour.  Step 2:  Little man requests a glass of orange juice, any amount of trying to put this off will just result in nonstop requests and pleading... so down the steps I tawdle, see the time on the microwave in the kitchen, and try to convince myself it'll be okay, I'll manage to get some more sleep (ha!)  Step 3: he drinks the juice on our bed, the second it is finished, begins begging me to go downstairs with him.  Step 4: I go, as to let the rest of the household slumber. Step 5: He gets face and eyes into Lego or drawing, and I get the coffee on, and proceed to drink 2 straight cups.   And then, and here's the kicker:  Step 6:  Looks at me with pleading eyes and asks, "Do I don't have to go anywhere today?"  
So, this is where the trouble starts.  This is a relatively new addition to the routine, but it is a very problematic one.  If I say yes, the obvious, panic- filled follow up question is to know where we're going.  Unless the answer is gymnastics or swimming....I have a sad little man.  What can I do?  I can't just stay home all the time.  I've been working hard on always being out and about with him, and that's the way it has to be for us.  I am a big believer in being happy at home, I am a homebody myself by nature.  But, I don't believe in simply avoiding all social discomfort.  That would definately come back to bite us!
So, here I am.  He knows he has skating this afternoon, we both know he doesn't really want to go.  But he will, and on the way home he'll get a 'sprinkly donut' from Tim Horton's as a reward.  So I am now trying to think of something simple we could do before lunch..just to get out of the house that he may enjoy....but I'm drawing a blank!  A walk, or just playing outside  is out of the question due to the wet weather we've been having lately.  So, I'm going to put on my thinking cap and come up with a good idea.  Maybe we'll just run to the dollar store and get some new pads of paper...we're always running low on that.  Or maybe we'll just go for a little drive, a change of scenery.
It used to be he'd readily follow me wherever I went.  Now he's always looking for a way out.
I can get him to come along, against his wishes, but it's not the same.  He's just quiet and waiting for our outings to be over. He's not enjoying them so much anymore.
And I'm missing having a little shadow.