HOORAY! I DID IT! WAY TO GO!

Underconstruction

2010-01-26T22:51:00.001-05:00

Sorry about the mess. My pictures got all out of place and my side bar is running away down the page. This may take awhile....lol

Scary Things

2008-10-14T12:13:00.009-04:00

"Mommy, I have nightmares."

Last week, when all the Halloween decorations went up around the stores and neighborhood, Gabe started talking about nightmares. Particularly, a fuzzy monster with big teeth. I haven't figured out where this monster came from, until now.

First, I pictured Animal from the Muppets, a misunderstood monster that just really wanted to have fun....

Shopping at Target the other day I came across this and then it clicked...

Let me introduce you to Target's mascot for Halloween.... "Domo". Domo is a fuzzy monster with very sharp teeth. No wonder Gabe does not like to shop. Domo was everywhere in Target, lurking around every corner, in the candy isle, dollar area. He even hovers over you as you enter the store, mouth agape, teeth furiously displayed, all he needs is drool puddling and being released from the corner of its mouth.

Poor Gabe. Only 16 days till Halloween and then it's all about Christmas. Cookies, Santa, snowpeople, snow forts, stars, lights, family. Is it time to put my tree up yet?

Wonderful and Bumpy

2008-09-21T14:55:00.009-04:00

Cows at the dairy farm.

Wonderful..... That's how I would explain what I feel right now. If Wonderful were a place, I would be the greeter.

"Helloooooooo and welcome to WonderrrrrrrfuL!"

Then I would trip over my own shoes and fall less than gracefully into a Yucca plant.

I have given my two weeks at my retail job before the holidays set in. I did it for a year, enjoyed the experience, but it was difficult to swallow the pay with the dedication they expected. We'll just have to make due.

A new year at school and things are coming along pretty smoothly. Siena is in a peanut free second grade classroom with a very organized and friendly teacher. Gabe has a very sweet, but no nonsense kindergarten teacher. She has a lot of great ideas and utilizes them well with all the kids. We were so fortunate to have her for Gabe. It feels like a good match.

Gabe is doing good. He enjoys school and is able to do the classroom work with success. I noticed after a week or so that his fine motor skills for writing are a little low which is also affecting his coloring. We practice both at home and have a system that makes homework fun and rewarding. I'll share that at a later time. I'm still not sure if it is purely developmental or an area that needs extra attention and fine tuning.

Making friends normally takes a little more than a couple months for Gabe. He likes to gauge the situation and the people within it before making a bold move. So, while others are busy making friends, Gabe is a little slow on the go. Sometimes he wants to play on his own, which is perfectly fine, but other times I notice he is having a hard time engaging others because he doesn't know their name or is not paying attention when they try to engage him. I am currently doing recess duty twice a week, so I can see how he is doing. I'm there to give a hug and some strength if he needs it. That feels great.

Speech is coming along sporadically. He's working on his "l"s and his high pitch in his voice. We did twice a week in the summer, one session was one on one and the other was a play date with another child playing games, sharing and talking about toys and interests. I'm waiting to see if my insurance will cover the playdate sessions.

Gabe is in school full time now, which makes getting to speech in rush hour 45 minutes away and 1 1/2 hours back a challenge. I really need something much closer. What do you do when you know you have the best therapist for your child? But, they are too far away? I've been loading up my Ipod for the trips. I guess that's all you can do.

Oh!

I am so excited about Christmas already.

I would put my tree up right now if I could.

And Then There Was One

2008-06-18T00:02:00.006-04:00

As I held my son, fear wrapped tightly around me. His body shook as his little hands tugged at my shirt. It was a different cry this time. One that could not be fixed by a smile, hug or kiss. Gabe is aware that people hurt his feelings often. That something he is doing is making them turn away or laugh boldly in his face. Gabe is reaching out with so much determination, so much love to others he sees as friends. He's putting his vulnerable hand out there waiting, reaching, trying to make some connection. He's waiting for what all the others have. What comes so easily between kids his age, a friend.

I would like to say that he made some friends this year at school, but honestly, irregardless of the tainted gene pool there, gabe rarely mentioned anyone with excitement attached. Was it a great class full of children you would look back on and say, "I knew so and so since preschool.", probably not. But, it was the slide show at his preschool graduation that showed not all were given a chance to be a friend. In every picture with Gabe, he was alone or with his teacher. He was alone. My baby was alone. The other boys huddled in a group together with big smiles. Or were shown sharing a toy. Gabe existed on the fringes. He so desperatly wanted to be included. Halfway through the year, I think he just gave up. He still offered friendship, no strings attached, but most of the time his warm gesture went unnoticed.

I hope in my deepest heart that people will see all the great attributes that he has before they turn away. That those that are quick to judge, take a second look. There is more, so much more to Gabe if you just give him a chance. He is kind, caring, funny, imaginative and loves the friends he does have so dearly. This part seems to be the hardest for both of us now.

The Summary

2008-03-03T09:34:00.005-05:00

Sitting at my desk with my laptop feels a little new and awkward. As if I was back at the beginning of this blog or cracking the binding of a new book. Where have I been? Well, let me say that time has had its way with me, running past me as if I was standing still and it beckons me to stop being so stagnant. So, why do I feel as if I have been running for months? Finding each finish line was only really a lap in the race? Enough of the analogies...Where do I begin?

I left off in the beginning of this past school year of 2007. Preschool still is going well. Gabe has adapted really well and is excited to go to school. His teacher is amazing. The other boys, well you can only go so far with genetics and bad parenting. I hate to say it, but some groups just don't mesh well, but thankfully his teacher has a great program that she utilizes along with the children in her classroom that addresses that issue.

I did loose my appeal to the state. They deemed his therapy (ABA) not medically necessary. Infuriated doesn't even come close to how I felt. The next step was to get a lawyer and challenge the State's decision. We decided to close that chapter and direct our attention to what can be than what should be. Does that make sense? Needless to say, I found out recently that some people I know who have had cases with BCBS in Michigan for ABA Therapy coverage have won due to the fact that their child was self injuring. Gabe was not. It felt good to finally let go.

I also have been working part time since the summer. I work evenings in retail, until I can start my career again without sacrificing my family. I like getting out, getting a paycheck (no matter how small) and letting my anal retentiveness thrive and flourish each evening while I fold and organize clothes until the store looks amazing. It's funny what makes some of us happy.

Gabe was also evaluated by his preschool teacher for readiness for kindergarten and he was tested through a private practice using the WPPSI. He passed the kindergaten readiness test (The Gesell). Happily, Gabe scores indicated that he will do well in kindergarten and that we should definitely seek placement for next year! So we did. He will be attending a private Catholic school with my daughter Boo!!!!! They will provide speech for him and have a social skills group that meets weekly. There are quite a few children on the spectrum that attend school there. Gabe will be in good hands :o)

With all the worry waiting for test results, weighing pros and cons, going back over more test results, late night discussions, this feels right for now. This is where he should be. He did struggle with his receptive language and responding to some one on one questions with someone he didn't know. So, we have increased his speech to twice a week and set aside time each day to practice. Everyday now I see growth in Gabe. He amazes me.

So, there it is in a nut shell. I hope some of you still pass by occasionally to take a peek. I wonder about your children and everyday wish them well. Take care.

If only I had Get Smart's shoe phone....

2007-11-08T14:04:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I wonder, I wonder if kids are just being kids, I'm just being a mom and the two together make for an interesting combination. Can I truly be objective when it comes to my child's friends? Could they ever be what Gabe needs and I envisioned them to be, caring, thoughtful, fun and accepting? I needed to know who was with him when I wasn't.

I wanted to get an "inside" the peer relationship dynamics of Gabe's classroom, so I happily volunteered to help at Gabe's Halloween party. This would give me an incredible opportunity to secretly psychoanalyze each child that comes in contact with Gabe each day at preschool. Dissect and interpret clues into their family dynamics, past history,siblings and parental involvement. I was "Double O, M..O..M".

This is what I found...
There are roughly, given what day it is, 14 boys and 6 girls.
The girls seemed pretty normal, easy going. Girls generally are.
The boys. Psych 101, years of observing people and 7 years of teaching really came in handy when watching the boys. The boys could be summed up as such
(names have been changed to protect their identity)

"O"- Very small child (Gabe literally looks down at him), shows signs of having a speech impairment, can be bossy and low on the totem pole of the "boy click" in the room.

"J"- I like to call him Mr. Cranky. Gabe first met him last year for a few hours when I wanted to observe him in a regular preschool setting with other three year olds. "J" may still be cranky about the fact the Gabe hit him with a dinosaur to see how he would react last year in class. Outcome....not good.

"T"-America's Most Wanted will be doing an expose on him soon. He has that "look" in his eye. Other teachers will know exactly what I mean. He seems older and far more wise about the workings of the underground than the homeless guy that rides his bike all day around my township. It makes me sad, but then I also want to say as I lean in close to his face, "Stay the hell away from Gabe if you know what is good for you."

"Red"- Possible "T" accomplice or the second picture displayed next to "T's on America's Most Wanted. He has devious written all over him. However, the jury is still out. Maybe he'll decide to use his powers for good and come over to our side.

"B"- Grips mom's leg like a hungry man's hand around a Ball Park hot dog at a baseball game when he is dropped off. He seems to bide time watching the clock until mom returns.

"M"- Seems like a good kid, but Gabe seems to be attracted to the ones that "run the roost" shall we say. Part of "the click", possible middle management. Dedicated with no real benefits.

"JK"- very sweet, perhaps a little too reserved for Gabe. He would get first draft choice if it were up to me.

"I"- He's a quite the sourpuss (and also Gabe's locker partner). Luckily he comes very sporadically, mostly Fridays when Gabe is not there. His mom's a nurse and works nights sometimes and her shift is always changing. "I" never knows when he is going to come. My sympathy goes out to him, but my heart is loyal to Gabe. I say," Back off "I" guy!"

"L"- is a child of someone I know (The one that ditched me high and dry at McDonalds) I thought he was going to be a good match for Gabe. Still a sweet boy, but the dark side can be very alluring and has made quite an impression on "L" if you know what I mean.

There are more boys that didn't catch my eye or just weren't at the party, because it wasn't their day to come. What's so frustrating is that this is what the general population consists of in real life. There are leaders, followers, those that go against the tide and those that go unnoticed. I am taking steps to ensure that Gabe is not pigeonholed before he gets his turn to shine. That he is learning the rules of social engagement at warp speed, but is still so innocent and unjaded, as if he was wading in a pool of sharks unknowingly. Give me strength to not go shark hunting anytime soon.

And.............Exhale...

2007-09-10T11:52:00.000-04:00

Is it safe?

It's been hard, but I waited a few extra days. Just a couple days, although it felt like eternity. I didn't want to jinx myself, my luck and Gabe.

OK...Here goes.....(deep breath)

Gabe's in preschool.
Public school preschool. Our District's public preschool. And he is doing very well! He is making friends, petting the classroom pet Guinea pig 'Buddy', eating lunch, and going out on recess. The other day he said, "I play with my friend Gavin at school."

I caught myself thinking, "What? "Full sentences? Friends? Independence?"I couldn't help but have a big smile.

Then this weekend it was, "Santa will get me the marble roller coaster."
I guess Gabe and Santa have established a close relationship out of my radar range. And Santa must shop at Target.

This gives me hope that Christmas will be even better this year. Both Boo and Gabe will be able to participate in our traditions of hanging ornaments, decorating ginger bread houses, and have the immense anticipation of Santa's arrival. That's all the gift I will need this year.

There was one incident the first day of preschool. I thought about not mentioning it, because it is pretty age appropriate, meaning that the Autism flag needn't be raised, the 'armed' forces could lay low and I could keep my anxiety in check. But, it just so happens that it was at the top of my list of concerns for Gabe when deciding to place him in a regular preschool. I can only describe it by telling you what happened. Gabe is in a class of about 14 kids along with a teacher (Ms. J), classroom aide and another teacher (Ms. K) that floats in and out, her position is a little unclear to me, must be based on number of kids in the room. Anyway, Ms. J had to run out of the room for a minute or two, so Ms. K took the class to the bathroom before going outside to play. Two boys in Gabe's class, after leaving the bathroom, decided to run down the hall. Ms. K had to coral them back in line by the wall and remind them to wait until everyone was ready. Meanwhile,as far as we can guess, Gabe must have come out of the bathroom, while Ms. K was running down the hall. He then got into a different line, going the wrong way. It was not one going to recess, but to the buses. After counting the heads on the playground, Ms. J came back and noticed one missing too. She immediately found Gabe outside the bus, crying for me on the sidewalk. Someone must have noticed he did not belong on the bus and called the office or another teacher. Thank God . (insert prayer here) So, when I picked him up the first day he was really weepy with swollen red eyes. She apologized many times. After about 5 minutes, Gabe left my side and happily joined the other kids on the play structure.

My reaction was not of anger, because I adore Ms. J. She was so fantastic with Boo that I knew it was an honest accident, not an oversight, especially since she wasn't even there when it took place. And now that it did happen, I can let out a sigh of relief that my biggest fear is in check with the teachers and I believe now that Gabe will be given an extra hand in leading him in the right direction. Which is what we all need at some time in our lives.

Boo is in first grade. (I'm feeling faint) I keep dreaming of her in high school. I keep reminding myself that she will only be turning 6 years old this month, not 16. She looks so beautiful in her uniform. I know I couldn't pull off a plaid jumper. She makes it look like the new fall fashion must have in your closet.

I have found that my thyroid is normal (Thanks for the idea to get tested Melissa) The problem I have/had was depression. So, two months later and appropriate medication (Screw you Tom Cruise) I feel better than I ever had in my life.

I also have started looking for a part time job. My SAHM status is quickly coming to a close. With needing a new roof and Gabe's preschool costs this year, our bank account reflects that we live paycheck to paycheck. It doesn't help that the state of Michigan is something like 2 billion (?) in debt and talk about shutting down the state is being discussed as an option. SD's salary as a teacher is dangling by a thread. The schools can't balance budgets or promise much of a security, because the state keeps changing what it will provide and then sometimes doesn't give financial support at all. How do you balance a budget like that?

This school marks another massive change in my life along with having a first grader, Gabe in preschool, a possible new career path, but it is also the first time in 2 1/2 years (or ever) that I drop my kids off at school and I can go HOME. When I took Gabe to school for those two+ years, I was an hour away from home. Going home was not an option. I have been trying to get things organized, clean, clean some more, do laundry, mow the lawn, do some PR for the family and kids and establish connections in my children's classrooms. It has been a lovely ride, sweet, but too short.

Some of you maybe wondering, what did happen to my crazy hair? I hate to admit this, but I ended up dying my hair four times. I'm a nut when it comes to my hair. It was a week of my daughter giving her encouragement through each change of hair color. "I think it looks nice mommy", she would smile. I had gray hair, green, grayish, greenish, brownish, reddish hair, dark brown hair (picture a witch) I was looking for carmel and got a mixture of Gothic and heroin addict.

I ended up stripping all the horrid colors out of my hair to reveal the lightest blonde ever with streaks of light orange where the red from one of the hair colors would not come out without loosing my hair. I settled on blonde for the vacation. And was I blonde. Barbie has nothing on me. I surpassed Barbie as a Blonde. She looked like a medium to dark blonde next to me. It was frightful, luckily we were where it was warm, sunny with an ocean. I almost fit right in as a surfer girl. In Michigan, I looked like a pole dancer. I currently, yes I actually dyed it again, a dark, neutral blonde with a hint of gray (color has a hard time now sticking to the lightest part of my hair. It's not perfect, but then no one's throwing change at me anymore.
I'd post the new look, but I haven't had a good photo op yet. I always look goofy when I take it myself, ya know, forehead missing, chin cut off, odd strained smile while attempting to look easy going when you can not find the button to actually take the picture. So until then, know that I have been following every one's lives and am so excited to look forward with all of you to another year of special moments with our children.

Oh! Last, but certainly not least, I want to thank Mom-Nos for the award of
Nice Matters
This award is for those bloggers who are nice people; good blog friends and those who inspire good feelings and inspiration. Also for those who are a positive influence on our blogging world. Once you’ve been awarded please pass it on to 7 others who you feel are deserving of this award.

I am so flattered. I am in fact speechless, which is rare. Who knew that over two years ago, when I searched the word Autism through Blogger that it would land me here? Where years earlier Mom-Nos brought hope to me that my journey with Gabe was not meant to be dark and lonely filled with isolation and dread. But a chance to embrace my fears, not let go of hope and still plan celebrations each and every day. Thank you, thank you Mom-Nos and all of you have either stood behind me pushing me forward, stood beside me letting me lean on you and those of you with strength that kept pulling me forward. Thank so much.

I nominate the following seven bloggers that have helped me along the way, many before they even new it. You deserve the NICE MATTERS Award!

Gretchen from Gretchen's Blog

Lora from My Beautiful Child Griffin & Autism

Stephanie from If It Ain't Broke

Sal

Melissa H.

Mamaroo

Kyra from THISMOM

Gabe Meets the Ocean

2007-08-25T11:04:00.000-04:00

We got back about a week ago from Charleston, SC. SD's side gets together yearly in the summer, fortunate for us, it is always a really cool place. SD's side of the family is really small, grandparents and an uncle and aunt. That's it. It makes for a really relaxing vacation. This year we went to the Isle of Palms and stayed on the ocean in a house in the Wild Dunes resort. This was our third year going and I must say, my favorite. Gabe was a baby, I guess pre-toddler, the last time we came, so I was curious how he would truly take to the sand and waves.

I waited and wondered if Gabe would take to the water like Conor, Bud, Roo and many others I have "seen" splash about like a fish in the ocean. He loves water, pool water that is. Not so much the ocean. It was salty, aggressive and unpredictable. Sure the waves always come and go, recede and come tumbling forward. It's the varying degrees that the waves pushed themselves onto you , and for Gabe over, that made him very distrusting of them. So, we started off slow.

Gabe was actually really drawn (literally) to the sand. I showed him how to make a river with your shovel and then pour water into it and watch it meander down to the ocean. Here he is drawing a river with his finger.

Then, he discovered that a bucket + ocean water makes for much more fun. That's when we began to build our sand castle and dig a huge hole. Gabe's self appointed job became to fill the hole.

After a few days at the resort, Gabe found peace with the ocean. He found it's rhythm. With each wave, he jumped as the tide rolled in.

SAHM

2007-08-06T22:16:00.001-04:00

The question....What do Stay at Home Mom's really do?

What it is like to stay home?

What do you do all day long?

Do you get to sleep in?

Have leisurely lunches and afternoon teas?

Does your laundry smell like a summer breeze?

Are your husbands shirts the color of pure, untouched snow?

Are they ironed and folded meticulously?
Do you eat only organic vegetables from your acre garden?

How close are you and Martha Stewart?

Are you a really good cook too?

This is what some of the things this Stay at Home Mom did these last few days (just in case you were wondering)....

Appealing the State

I finally mailed off my appeal for an external review to the state. It took an entire year. This is "The Book" that held everything about Gabe that anyone would ever need to know. It was, as I have said before, because I can't believe it, 600+ pages long. I know I have talked about this before, (quite a bit, sorry) but, my God!, an entire year of my life! I will know in thirty days the final outcome.

Hair Color Status

As you can see my hair was getting a little "pole dancer" looking. (refer to picture above and below) When your hair matches Barbie's that's not a good sign.

I am a dark blonde, at least that's what the Loreal box tells me, but when you add the summer sun, my hair bleaches out.

So.......

I thought I would "fix" it.

I thought I would tame the "corner calling" look a little by actually adding color back to it. Tone it down a little so people at the space station can take off their sunglasses when looking at Michigan.

So, the final decision was made. I need to go cooler, my hair was obviously too bright and warm.

Cooler like an ash blonde. That should do it.

I had an inkling that I had done this before with catastrophic results. Was it ash that made my hair grey before? Hmmmmmm...

Nah. I think it was black that did that in high school.

An hour later I had silver grey hair like a fox. I had Dumbledore hair!

So, a second opinion was needed. I turned to SD. I gave him the nod that told him it was OK to be honest.

"Ya," he paused passing his fingers through my hair," it does look a little grey."

I looked like I aged 20 years.

Off to the drug store to fix it.

I can fix this, I convincingly said to myself in the rear view mirror.

I was expecting the women at the counter to say (in tribute to Gomer Pyle), "Surprise, surprise, surprise" when ringing up the box of hair color.

I went a warm medium blonde.

Warm cancels cool.

At least it does when we decide to turn off our AC to save money.

In this case, warm doesn't necessarily cancel cool,

BUT creates green.

I have died my hair twice already in two days. I leave for a trip for two weeks in two days.

Should I go green and just wave to people like the Jolly Green Giant?

Maybe tease it a little and go as a Troll?

*
*
*

This SAHM needs a really good hair colorist.

I'd write more about my glamorous life as a SAHM, but Martha needs to brief me on how to properly crease the corners of my sheets when making the bed.......

"OK!" "HOLD YOUR HORSES MARTHA!" sheesh!

The bottom line is babies

2007-07-31T20:36:00.000-04:00

"So you don't want any more babies?" he looked up at me from his swivel chair.

For some reason the tone made his question sound more like,

"Are you sure you will be able to fit in your swim suit next week after all the ice cream you have been eating lately?"

Sitting up, trying to gain some sort of composure in my couture paper napkin top,

"I'm thirty-five," I say with conviction.
He says nothing.
"My son also has Autism," I state.
He still is looking at me saying nothing.
"My two beautiful children are all I ever wanted."
There. That must be the right answer. It felt right.
He clears his throat, shifts in his chair and begins...
"You haven't answered my question."
"I didn't?" Didn't I?
Silence. The large poster showing a fetus growing arms and chubby legs looks like it is snoozing on the opposite wall.
I swallow. Hard. It kinda hurt. Is it hot in here or is it me?
"No. No, I do not want any more children."

I really am ready for this. It's just everyone else is making such a big deal about it. Sometimes trusted people can sway my thinking pretty easily. Until, I snapped out of it and thought Doctor H won't be there for the late night feedings, take on the discomfort of having huge boobs and I know he would not be throwing some of his salary as a doctor our way.

"Yes. I would like the surgery done."

OK then, he begins, "A Tubal Ligation Procedure..."

So, I had it done. And OUCH! my belly button hurts! Yeah, that's what I said, my belly button! They untied it and went right in. Vicodin was a good friend of mine for a few days. SD was home and I napped and finished the latest Harry Potter book.

On the other hand, I am finally on the step of an external review at the state level for our appeal for ABA services for Gabe with our insurance company (It has been an entire year since I started appealing). "The book" as I call it is 600+ pages long and is due to be sent to the States Appeal Review in a week or so. Our appeal is worth $8,000. SD and I look at each other often and say "No pressure." Wish us luck. I'll give more details later.

So, I have spent my time reading your blogs, but am just too tired to write in my own. I know, come fall, that my blog will be full of it's ups and downs again. My summer has really been amazing this year. Less than a month and we'll be off and running again!

Boo and Gabe, my beautiful babies.

A Little Perspective

2007-07-12T22:29:00.000-04:00

Sometimes it takes a few old videos to put the past and present into perspective....
(Sometimes they take a few minutes to load on Blogger....)

Gabe then....
* Gabe at 13 months old
* He did not have any words yet, just sounds (very cute sounds)
*1 month later he walked
* It was only two months later that he started not responding to his name
* Soon after this he stopped playing
* He was diagnosed with Autism 5 months later
* We had no idea at the time that most of what we fed him he was allergic to

Gabe now.....
*He is on a diet free of allergens
*His asthma is coming under control the more we learn about it
* Gabe is full of expressive language and sentences!
*He has been diagnosed with Autism for 2 1/2 years now

Isn't it amazing how fast they grow?
And how quickly you learn...

Life Is A Highway...Gabe's Gonna Ride It all Night Long

2007-06-27T21:49:00.000-04:00

video Here's the video of Gabe burning some Big Wheel rubber. I am beaming with pride.

Last summer, I put him on his bike and pushed him around the court, while he honked his horn. It was a start. I just wondered if Gabe would ever want to learn to ride a bike or anything with wheels, he is a real indoors type of person. Until this year! This year I was bound and determined to expose Gabe to all the beauty that awaits him beyond the magnificant marble run, Geo Trax Trains and comfy sleeping bag he lounges on in the playroom. This year is the year of the larger blow up pool on our deck sprinkled with floaties. There are sprinklers that hit you from all directions in our front yard (who needs a spray park?) And a slip and slide that beckons umbrellas to get wet in, but for some reason has yet to be slid on. But, the most wonderful part of it all....there are friends to play with while doing all these awesome things outside. Yes, this year I invested a lot. In return, though, I have a son that looks out the window and calls for his friends to come play.

He was pedaling pretty fast once I got the seat adjusted where it fit him just right.

This could have not gone so well, but there was a safe clearance....whew...

Another Big Wheel Buddy

Get your motors running !

Lately

2007-06-20T21:22:00.000-04:00

Did I tell you that Gabe is now 4 years old? I kept saying in my head a few days after his birthday, "Four? Really?" I am 35 years old and have a 5 1/2 year old and a four year old. I never imagined being here, in this spot, in this moment. I can truly say, that I understand what it feels like to be older with a lot of responsibility, but I still feel the passion of my untamed youth.

Gabe and some of his friends at his birthday party:o)

In California! We stayed in Palo Alto and took day trips to San Francisco. One day we took this train. Gabe was over the moon! After that, Gabe wanted to ride the train everyday and resented our car. (I thought of you Annette when we were in California. Even though I was in the same state, you were still far away!)

At the San Francisco Zoo riding........a train. (lol)

The zoo reminded me of Detroit's zoo, making gains in better habitats for some of the animals, but still some were living in pretty deplorable conditions. The foliage and plant life was amazing.

Boo is now an official first grader.(I am a mom to a first grader!)

Who likes to give SD (Super Daddy) a heart attack with her dollar store press on nails. (They fell of two minutes after this picture was taken)
Gabe finished his speech based preschool. He made his way to the top of his class. He was becoming a model for the other children. Amazing. He's worked so hard. I couldn't be prouder.
This fall is "Big Boy Preschool". Gabe being mainstreamed completely in our public school preschool. All our support, professional and otherwise agree. He's on his way.

Sorry about the mess, words scattered every where. I should not have messed with the HTML Gods.

The Other Group of Moms

2007-05-11T10:45:00.000-04:00

Off I went, landing into yet another social gathering with other moms. I picked out an outfit, more trendy than dressy, wearing a smile that says "My hair looks fabulous today!" I just can't seem to get away from this insanity. This mom group, however, is from Boo's school. Most of these moms I have yet to meet and have an actual conversation with. There are only two that I have spoken to more than once and in complete sentences. Today, I knew would not be one of those days, because Gabe would be with me.

The moms seem harmless, especially since they too have sent their children to a private religious school. So the caddy, tartness and overt attempts at making you feel less than are frowned upon at our church, I felt safe. And in the end, I was. Boo was so beautiful, talented and amazing as she read her reading for mass. She also did some wonderful hand gestures to 3 of the songs sang in church. She did them front and center, facing the entire school. Wow! I thought. She is so brave. I was so proud. I wanted to give a standing ovation after each song, but as is typical in our church, the room went silent and everyone bowed their head in prayer at the completion of each song.

The diamonds and expensive purses are still there, but not flaunted as much. For, in my denomination, if you can flaunt it, you can donate it. The church says put your money where your soul is, not in your Coach purse. I like that philosophy. It keeps the wealthy masses humble. I looked and felt right at home here. Kind've. Mass is a good hour or so long. The pews are covered with non removable cushions, that I think Gabe maybe sensitive too (Dust Mites?) The eye rubbing started soon after we were seated. Now, here's the dilemma, do I go sit far away, where we sit in nonupholstered chairs, but can barely see Boo? Or, do I take intermittent breaks, where Gabe and I leave to go for walks between Boo's appearances to ease Gabe's reactions? I chose the latter. I chose to sit right up front where I could cheer Boo on. Where, for once, it was all about her. I gave a lot smiles and blew several kisses. I did offer Gabe eye drops and other medication, but he unfortunately turned them down. So, I reinforced his good behavior every 5 minutes at first, then ten later on during the entire mass. I made sure to bring my timer, and we set it together and waited until it beeped. If he was still in his seat, being quiet he could have a marshmallow or Swedish fish. This worked for most of the mass. I would like to say it was perfect and not a strand of my hair fell out of my head from stress, but in retrospect, Gabe did awesome all things considered.

As we were about to leave, I noticed all the moms hanging around chatting as if they were just about to go out and get coffee or perhaps delaying a little before spending the afternoon casually preparing for the busy weekend. I, on the other hand, gave Gabe a big kiss on the head, smiled and said "Ready to go?" We did it, not totally unscathed, but my hair still looked good, Gabe had a snack and Boo smiled knowing she too was important to me.

A Sobering Reality

2007-04-27T14:33:00.000-04:00

I am not perfect. I don't even come close. I am so far flung from that reality, I don't think I can even see it from here. My world seems so separate from everyone else's that I feel as if I am the visitor here. An outsider than can barely speak the language. What's ironic about the whole situation is that it has nothing to do with Autism, this feeling of being alone. Because, for a brief moment in time I felt like my world could actually be the same world as other people I came in contact with when Autism was first introduced. Together, myself and these other mothers, could make a connection, that was real, had substance. Autism gave me that. It gave me an in with other mothers, who felt lost, saddened, stressed and still hopeful that amongst it all they could still be there for their child. But, the loneliness is still there for me, even after the curtains pulled to the side for the final act. Before the applause was to happen, the standing ovation for all the dedication, love, heart and soul that I have poured selfishly into my child, I stand alone. Maybe it was never Gabe, but really all me.

Somewhere along the way, his world separated like mine, drifting away from the one where every seemed to be headed. How am I to provide for my son what he needs if I can not even manage it for myself? I don't even speak the same language. It is all so foreign to me. The Kate Spade handbags, casual conversations about nothing, diamonds that sparkle as their heads turn. I am so far out from where everyone seems to be. Like I missed Adulthood 101 "This is how you act". I am having a really hard time.

I didn't know that you are to dress up when you go to McDonald's. Really? That heals are not meant only for anniversaries, the theatre, and Galas, but should be worn when picking Gabe up from school, grocery shopping and (how stupid of me) to greasy fastfood places where your kids socks turn a swamp black as they run through the germ infested play area. Who knew? That proper protocol was to only wear something that Ann Taylor, North Face, Ralph Lauren or anything else (Thank God no one was actually wearing BeBe) that could be purchased at The Somerset Collection. You don't just wear a shirt and pants, but an ensemble.

Gabe and I were invited to meet a friend and her kids at McDonald's this afternoon to play in the play place. (Can I just let out a big 'EEEEWWW!' about the condition that our play area is in). I go, because I really would like to spend some time chatting with this friend, I am trying to continue and hopefully maintain at least some friends from before Gabe's diagnosis. I live in a small town and all these moms know each other and they know me or at least "about" me. They know little about Gabe, most have no clue what our lives truly entailed the last two years.

Our worlds collided, these moms and I, it was awkward and the lack of interest was palpable. Did I tell you that the friend that I was meeting to spend time with also called most of the moms that I have, deliberately, chosen not to talk to to meet us there? Did she know? Probably not. I was just hoping that she was as interested in getting together to talk with me as I was her. I am so way off in most of my friendships, it blows my mind every time. I am constantly being slapped in the face with this reality. That perhaps the store clerk who rang my groceries may not want be my Maid of Honor at my wedding? Am I that far off? No, but it sure feels that way sometimes.

So, I would normally handle this 'rejection' by not talking to any of them again and starting over from scratch, in hopes to find more people like me. But, you can not run far enough away here. It is high school all over again. I liked that comparison. Funny enough, that was how my 'friend' described it too. I guess it will be a first in my life that I will have to stick it out. It's killing me. There is no bright light at the end, no rainbows after the storm, just me being an outsider, occasionally asked to join a few select functions. Mostly birthday parties and the rare play date. I hate saying this about myself. I know it can't all be me, but when you are the only one left waiting on the side lines and everyone else is out playing the game, scoring touchdowns for their kids, yeah, it's kind've a rude awakening, a painful one at that. Oh, and my neighbor of 5 years, that I just had over for a play date not but a week ago, leaned over and told me," Yeah, 'L' (my friend) called and invited me and "J' and 'K' too, I thought about calling you, but you know...." and her voice trailed off. Not because she was embarrassed or had an epiphany about her blatant disregard not to invite me, but because she knew, just as I did, that I don't belong. Not here, not in this group. I could feel the corners of my mouth drop as she was talking to me, by the end I pulled a smile and turned around, sinking quietly in my chair. "Why was there?" I thought.

Gabe had a really rough time at McDonald's. There was hitting, lots of sweat, pee in his pants and a lot of screams bellowing "No Thank You!". I had to carry him out to the car when we finally left. We sat there together, quietly. Gabe was protesting the car seat and I wanting to just drive away to anywhere that did not have golden arches.

I haven't felt so trapped in myself in a long time. I was trapped in a car, outside the McDonalds in sight of the play place. My 'friend' grabbed my bag for me and Gabe's coat when I said I had to go, because he was having a hard time. After unlocking the door, frantically watching as Gabe started walking away in the parking lot with just socks on, my 'friend' throws my stuff in the front seat, turns waves and says goodbye. If I didn't know better, I would think that I have just been voted off this world.

It's OK if you have that icky feeling after reading this. The sourness in your stomach that reminds you, Thank God you're not her. I have it too, but unfortunately I am her.

The Group, The Diagnosis, The Million Dollar Question

2007-04-26T12:41:00.000-04:00

I made the long drive today to Gabe's doctor. What used to be a 10 minute drive, is now an hour from our house. It was so conveniently close to our former house, going to the doctors couldn't have been any easier. We have tried switching, but doctors are really funny about letting you join their "patient club". You are snubbed appointments, until you can prove yourself worthy. I just don't have time to play that game. Our doctor has never turned us away, we have never had to wait an obscene amount of time in a waiting room or examining room, and he always greats us with a smile. So, what's a little scenic drive now and then?

There have been times that our beloved doctor is not in and we have to reluctantly see one of the other doctors in the group. I will describe them as follows....

The Head of the Practice- Doctor "I know everything and you know nothing"
He was snubbed once by parents with a child who has Autism, because they wanted to try Chelation and he obviously thought they were wrong. He takes up all his issues about Autism with me, much to my chagrin. We see him only under the most extreme circumstances.

Doctor #1- She has a great accent ( I always envision a beautiful countryside in some far away place when she talks), but she is a terrible listener and can be a tad bit condescending. Boo was born Frank Breech. She was the only doctor to advise getting X-rays of her hips to make sure they were OK. I can't help but have a place in my heart for her.

Doctor #2- She loves to reference books, talks really fast, but still not a bad alternative. She was the first doctor to visit me in the hospital when Boo was born.

Doctor #3- First doctor we interviewed in the practice, but she never really takes a close enough look for me. Just didn't jive with her, so we switched to our current doctor in the group.

Doctor# 4- Doctor P., our doctor now. He's funny, the kids love him, not too shabby to look at and is smart in a non condescending way. I wish he knew more about the specifics about Autism.He told me once that," being a doctor feels wonderful when you can help someone, but there are times when you can't and that's hard to take." I felt like hugging him after that comment. We had just found out Gabe had Autism. He was the first (and only) doctor to admit that he didn't know everything.

Doctor #5- She has read all the research, keeps up on all the journals and could possibly cure a disease in her spare time. She is all business. No time for all the niceties.

The last doctor is who we saw today, Doctor #5 (Please do not attempt small talk). Doctor P. was not in today. I asked again about the rash on Gabe's face and, much to my surprise, received another possible diagnosis...Keratosis Pilaris. Huh.....not Contact Dermatitis, because it is persistent. Yet, still no affective treatment.

Our main reason for being there was due to the appearance of some bumps by Gabe's wrist and on his legs. We had spent the entire weekend outside and I had just thought it was bug bites. I saw him swatting in the air the other day as we played outside saying, "Go Away! Go away!" arms swinging wildly. Isn't it odd how the people that hate bugs the most get swarmed 9 out of 10 times? Gabe's itching lasted for days and a few more bumps joined the already present ones.

SD swells when he gets bitten by mosquito's. I thought maybe Gabe was also very sensitive to the bites. By the third day, SD told me it could be Poison Ivy. We both thought, where would he have come in contact with Poison Ivy? Our trees do not even have leaves yet. Maybe a dried up leaf from the fall? Come to find out, Gabe must have come in contact with something he was allergic to, tree pollen, maybe grass, and scratched himself, letting the allergen under his skin and "TaDa!" instant reaction. The bumps aren't infected, so no Staph infection. (Gabe is more prone to those kinds of infections due to his excema) Whew!

I kept asking him (as he was itching) "Do you want some itchy medicine?" (Hydrocortizone or chewable Benadryl-both not bad in his book)

Gabe kept saying, as he was itching wildly, "No, I'm OK."

"Doesn't it itch?" I say sympathetically.

"No." he responds.

"Gabe, then why are you itching? It must really itch. Are you sure? Let's get some medicine." Two seconds later, he is fully medicated and itch free.

How come he just can't tell me?
Where is the connection not being made?

This has become a huge mystery for me lately. So many things have clicked with him lately that I am completely blown away everyday. But, this, telling me he needs help when it comes to his body is just not coming together.
What is preventing him from making that connection?

He asks me all day to help him with his marbles, choosing a video to watch, what to eat, and so on...just not with his own body.

What am I missing?
Or better yet, what is Gabe missing?

My Third Start

2007-04-24T11:32:00.000-04:00

*
I have actually had a few things to talk about, but after I purged them out onto my cyber canvas, they didn't seem to be able to sustain the dimensions of the page. They just fell flat, sprawled out, taking up space. So, that left me here with these random thoughts that have been floating around in my mind lately...

#1
What classifies something as an epidemic? Dictionary.com defines it as something that is extremely prevalent and widespread. So, with that in mind, even with the argument that just more children are being labeled as "on the spectrum" due only to diagnosis criteria, isn't Autism still an epidemic? I read a parenting magazine yesterday, while waiting in an office, that was clearly trying to convince parents not to buy the hype. What is that magazine trying to sell? That Autism is just a figment of some people's imagination and it doesn't normally happen to good people that read their magazine?

#2

I still love to walk. I walk as much as I can, because it keeps me sane and a whole lot less anxious. One thing I have noticed is I have great toned legs that I can now flex and show an impressive muscle. However, that same muscle that helps also to tighten the rear is still resting under *ahem* a few extra pounds . These unwelcomed pounds are making my pants tighter and less forgiving. God has a sick sense of humor when it comes to my body.

Gabe is still doing great, in fact we have left the "ABA trial table". I work on his programs incidentally throughout the day through books, play and general conversation. His last day in his speech based preschool will be in June. In the fall he will attend a regular preschool. I have begun to create a flyer to give to the teachers about some Gabe-isms.

Some Gabe-isms
1) Sometimes I repeat what people say when I don't know what to say. Just ask me another way. There are times I may need a little extra help.

2) When I am hurt, I may not tell you. Sometimes I say "No, I'm OK" even when I am not. If you ask me very specific questions like "Does your knee hurt? I will be able to tell you. I may even give a little hug.

3) I am allergic to many foods. I am also a pretty picky eater. I don't mind only eating what mom sends from home. She also packs special treats in my bag in case someone brings in a special treat I can not have.

4) There are times I get so excited about something that I may ask for it over and over. Mom reminds me what she said and then lets me know if I ask again I may not get what I am asking for. I have to admit, this technique works well with me.

Those are a few that I have thought of. I don't want to mention that he is Autistic, although they already know, for the simple fact that I believe people see the word Autism and think of its stereotype before seeing Gabe.

Here are some more thoughts....

#4
With Melissa's great advice, I am going to call and make an appointment for my thyroid this week. Thanks Melissa!

#5
We have had quite a few schools on lockdown since Virgina Tech's shootings, because of similar threats. The school locks all the doors, outside and in, the teachers remain with the students in the classroom, while police officers search the school. It can be very scary, real or not. SD is a school teacher. Everyday now I wonder if he will be coming home. What has happened to our world?

*
*
So, there you have it, my current state of mind.

Change

2007-04-10T21:57:00.000-04:00

Did I mention that change is difficult for me sometimes? Even though, I know it is inevitable? That it is happening even when I swear it isn't? That I am so hell bent to keep this fast pace of therapy for Gabe that I missed the flags declaring the last lap of the race?

-Gabe is age appropriate for his ABLLS -R (Assessment for Basic Language and learning Skills- Revised).

He is age appropriate!

He walks, talks and acts like a soon to be 4 year old.

He is picking up things at lightning speed. Gabe is filling in a lot of the gaps all on his own-no program, no fruit snack reinforcers....just Gabe putting all the pieces together. He has not completed the ABLLS, but he is on his way!

*LOUD APPLAUSE*
*Bring in the band! *
*Swedish Fish for everyone!*

I wonder, silently (selfishly?), where does that leave me? What I mean is, what role will I play now? I obviously will still be Gabe's mom, but his needs are different. It feels like a shift, movement of the earth's plates, similar to your child entering the years of being a teenager. The years where what you thought was right, could be so very wrong. How do you navigate that world?

I left the NT world 2 years ago. I left the phony friendships that were based on where you live, what kind of house you have and the image of being the "perfect" mom. I was scared, but somewhat relieved. I was losing that race quickly, I was more interested on where I was going with my kids then who was running next to me and if they were wearing the "right outfit".

In return, after venturing forward in a completely different direction, I was then unconditionally embraced by this Autism Ring and other parents with children on the spectrum. I found a world that revolved around what it truly meant to be a parent, especially a mother. I have felt more of a connection to the amazing women and men through our Autismring, than neighbors I have lived next to for the past five years. I have cheered, cried and sent good vibes to many who have posted ideas and thoughts about their children that have enabled me to push through another day. I will forever be grateful.

When I am asked about what I think are the first things a parent with a child newly diagnosed ASD, I always say, get the best evaluation you can afford, write everything down (everything) and read blogs or journals by other parents with children who have ASD. You can begin to feel very alone and just reading other parents thoughts can be very comforting. The world of ASD doesn't have to always have horrible connotations. I have found that doorways exist here that would've never been opened anywhere else. I have had many doors closed with the mere mention of ASD, painfully, right in front of me. There were also many more opened for me by another caring parent who just knew what it was I was going through with Gabe, because ASD had touched their lives too.

*

My son is ready to move on. He is ready to explore beyond the world that I have created. He is dipping his sweet, little toes in the crisp, cool, spring puddles. He is dancing around the edges, laughing at his reflection, admiring the ripples created by the gentle tap of his foot. I, however, can't help but hover, anxiously, arms poised to catch each and every possible fall. I am on the sides, trying to cover the puddles with my coat, hand within reaching distance, hoping to guide him safely around them. I am still the mother that worried about her son night and day, spent late evenings reading anything and everything about Autism, called doctors and pursed answers. I can't just flip the switch to off and leave that person behind. I can't seem to even dim the light.

Am I out of my mind?

This is the path Gabe has created. This is where he needs to go. All his therapy has lead him here. Isn't this the road I created? Shouldn't I be skipping, running towards the end?

I am.
I am overjoyed.
I am estactic.

With it comes anxiety (Can it be true?) Hope that seems so fragile (How long will it last?) Self doubt (Will I recognize when he is having trouble again?)

I know that we are heading in the right direction. The world just looks different. Sunnier perhaps? More flowers? More smiles?

Change is hard for me, but it seems to really work for Gabe.

My thoughts on the book Strange Son by Portia Iverson

2007-03-30T07:00:00.000-04:00

It has been two years and a half years since I first heard the word Autism float through the air and into my thoughts. It has been an incredible journey. I know that sounds cliche, but I do not think, personally, that there are many journeys in life like this one. Maybe that is my own ego erupting with, "Autism is something that only those close to it can understand." But, it changes you, your family, how you see the world, whether you like it or not. I have found that some changes were very painful for Gabe and I. Such changes forced us to stretch our thinking and ourselves in understanding how to continue forward, while still embracing each other's limitations. Some changes have opened my eyes to a world that does not lend itself to a "wait and see approach". The world of Autism has many different countries with numerous dialects. What is acceptable in one country of Autism, may deliver a totally different response in another. Each day the language may change, current currency exchange may rise and fall, and the day's special could be something wonderful you never even anticipated.

I remember what it felt like to have a child that never interacted. My son's absent smiles, toys that were more preferred than me and the empty look as he gazed off in the distance. Gabe tantrumed constantly about almost everything from getting into the car, eating or putting on his coat. Everyday things became huge mountains to climb. To top it off, Gabe was non verbal without any use of gestures. When some days became too much and I needed a little reassurance that we would make it through this. I would long to hug Gabe. But, giving him a hug was received as something painful and unloving to Gabe. He would so desperately want to get away from your touch. As parents we felt like our son was unreachable in every way a parent should love their child. He was in his own world and we were not welcome.

I was fortunate that that period lasted for only a year. It was a year of desperation, loneliness, and anger. Anger not towards Autism, but towards the medical profession for taking the stance that my son was not worth even exploring the possibilities that were starting to emerge. I had many doors shut in my face, phone calls gone silent, and blank stares during that long year. It is the part of my journey with Autism I would choose not to relive again. As a mother, there is nothing more heart wrenching than when someone shuts the door of possibility right in front of your child.

All these memories have been stirred to the surface since I started reading Strange Son.

The title makes me shiver every time I pick up the book. Strange son? How could a mother choose such a title for her book about her son? I almost didn't put it on my birthday list, had I not heard that she also did a lot of research about Autism and was the driving force behind one of the largest Autism Groups, CAN (Cure Autism Now). As I read, I begin to understand her choice for the title. It is not a word that denotes seclusion, lower status in intelligence or perpetuates the stereotype that follows Autism everywhere, but rather, the reaction from the world to her son, the wall of denial that was built too tall to climb, to overcome, the strange circumstance that no one knew what to do with Autism everywhere in regards to research, schooling, health care, or in creating an atmosphere for success for these children. The strange world you are thrust into when your child is diagnosed with Autism. It is a third dimension, sometimes created by Autism itself, but mostly by the uneducated community that surrounds you.

So, those are my thoughts for now. I am only about 1/4 the way through and am hooked. I admire her drive and tenacity. I also am saddened by her sense of loss she feels with her son. I wonder if I could have kept hope for Gabe for so long had he never improved with ABA, Speech, outstanding therapists and the incredible bloggers that keep me sane everyday with letting me know I am not alone and neither is Gabe.

A couple things to remember when reading this book, the author's journey began almost 14 years ago. Her and her husband were alone in their journey. There wasn't an incredible group of Autism Bloggers, Yahoo groups (Yahoo started up around 1996 publicly), and the Internet was hard to navigate with little or no medical listings. Another aspect to consider, Autism was completely dismissed by the medical community. We are still being quieted by our doctors being told our fears are unwarranted, when in truth they just missed the blatant warning signs. Can you imagine if every doctor said and felt the same thing? That your child was mentally inferior with nothing of merit to contribute to this world? Children were still being sent to institutions. Special education and the public schools? I can't even imagine the atrocities.

So, with all that in mind, I applaud her. In fact, standing ovation. When there was no one, nothing for Dov, she made something. It may not have been the same thing we would choose today for our children diagnosed with Autism, although I can not imagine what she possibly did not do for her son, she did something where there was nothing. That to me is amazing.

OK, Let me just explain....

2007-03-27T07:52:00.000-04:00

Last night, SD turned to me and said with an eyebrow raised, "Autism for Dummies?"
He was looking over my Books I had read on Autism over in my side bar of my blog.
"Do they really have a book for Dummies about Autism?"
"Yes. " I pause, embarrassed by such a title and the fact that it is indeed a part of my cherished library at home. "But let me explain..." I stop what I am doing in the kitchen and look through the window that opens to where SD is sitting on the couch, lap top in hand.
"The reason I bought that book, although extremely difficult as it was with such a title, was due to the fact that it had a few very informative chapters on government assistance, agencies and support groups." I explained with conviction that I had indeed made an appropriate purchase.
SD smiled at me, then replied,"I just thought it was funny that they had one about Autism, that's all. The For Dummies books can be very helpful."

Oh.

Hypotonia

2007-03-22T11:42:00.000-04:00

When Gabe was first diagnosed at 20 months, I immediately had him evaluated for OT, PT and speech. Speech began at square one. She started with trying to get Gabe to say anything. The speech therapist had not only the longest road, but the most rewarding. She saw first hand his amazing growth over the past two years in language. The Occupational therapist suggested we work on his eating, holding utensils and expanding what he would eat. Physical therapy revolved around Gabe's new diagnosis of Hypotonia. Hypotonia? I thought after reading online and seeing pictures of limp babies, I just didn't see it. Gabe is strong with a capital "S". The therapist agreed and added that it was only a slight affliction. I then wondered what that meant? He is kind've limp? I still wasn't seeing it, but continued therapy anyway. We stopped after a month or two, because he was, still is, right on mark for what he should be doing developmentally motor/physically. This "Hypotonia" didn't seem to be affecting him, that we could see, like his speech and eating were. So, we focused instead on those two things. Some of you know how intense his eating program was at CARE (Children with Autism Reaching Excellence) and Gabe goes twice a week to a private speech therapist.

So, week after week, Gabe and his physical therapist worked on his "core strength", building and adding tone to his middle. We refer to that area as "The Chubs". Is he overly flabby? No. He looks like a boy who is turning four and still has a little squish in the middle. He does have my genes. Boo is long and lean like SD was growing up. Gabe is not overweight or inactive.

What struck me, almost two years later, was how Gabe never got the hang of some simple body movements that babies do naturally.
Let me explain, because I really wonder if anyone else sees this in their children, Gabe as a baby never gripped my hip with his legs when I carried him. (Boo was like a monkey) I had to fully support Gabe's body (You can see it in the picture above). If I were to let go of him, which I would never do, but if I did, he would fall to the floor. He would not even attempt to hang on. Another example, is if you were to help him out of the car he would not jump to assist you or hang on to your arm. I would be lifting his whole body. Same with putting him in. Gabe would'nt lean in and reach for his car seat, balancing his weight,while I helped him slide into his seat. I had to lift and place him there, unassisted for a long time. My back hurt every night. Now he walks in and sits in his seat all by himself. Thank God!

I thought about this a lot today while I watched him at gymnastics. They have a mini bar that Gabe's class practices holding themselves up on (Arms straight, body balanced on bar). Gabe does pretty good with that most of the time, it is when she bends their body to flip around, that he goes limp. Putting all his weight on her. It's as if he doesn't know how, to either assist with movement, or he is missing something else. Is that the Hypotonia? I noticed it again when he got to go down the slide into the foam pit at the end. When his teacher tried helping him out of the pit, Gabe went limp. I could see the strain in her face. She said, "Gabe's a big boy!"

He is tall and has a strong build. I have heard "solid" when referring to Gabe's stature. But, I wonder how much is Gabe and how much is it being limp? I've been trying to plan ways to work on it, as if it was a skill to learn, but wonder how can I make him grip me? Maybe he just doesn't know that is what he is supposed to do? Why should he help, if someone else will do all the work?

(Gabe at 9 months old. He has lost most of the baby chubs, but still has a little squoosh around the middle)

Hello?

2007-03-19T07:26:00.000-04:00

I have a feeling that I have somehow fell off the Autism Blogger sphere. The comments have dwindled to a very (cherished) few. Is anyone out there? Did the switch from the old Blogger to the new leave me stranded out in blog land?

SD said my last blog was depressing. He wasn't sure he would've commented either. Although I did get a lot of welcomed hugs from SD, with a great set of ears that listen to me babble on and on occasionally. I have to admit, it was a bummer one. I just can't write a lot of "Chicken Soup for the Soul" like entries. Which is funny, because I like reading those the most on other people's blogs. It's hard to read the posts where people are struggling, because I live far away from each of you and I just want to give a hug with a reassuring smile. Sometimes comments and email just do not feel like enough. Then some days, it does the job perfectly.

Do I just have people that prefer to read, rather than comment? I have also spent a lot of time reading lately and leaving the comments for another time. Blogger for awhile wouldn't let me comment. It's a long process for me to comment now with the new log in.

So, I just was wondering...
If you're just a reader, browser, fell upon my blog by shear coincidence or just wondered what Gabe was like,

Welcome!
Please feel free to just say Hi

Thanks.

Maintenance after 30,000 miles

2007-03-17T22:12:00.000-04:00

So, my birthday is coming up fast, just around the bend and with it, I feel like I am loosing my mind. The two being totally unrelated, I think.

I'm anxious, irritable, elated, joyous, complacent, saddened,overwhelmed , energized and lost, but found all at the same time. Did I mention that I am exhausted?

I know there is something wrong, but am just too stubborn to approach the medical community with the same gumption that I use with Gabe. I was diagnosed with borderline hypothyroidism when I was pregnant with Gabe. They prescribed the appropriate medication and off I went. At every checkup, I was inundated with questions about how I felt. Each month, as they massaged my neck looking for a goiter, I always responded with, "I feel pregnant." Because outside of all the stuff that goes with being pregnant having hypothyroidism just adds some pepper to the already salty soup.

Early symptoms:
Weakness
Fatigue
Cold intolerance
Constipation
Weight gain (unintentional)
Depression
Joint or muscle pain
Thin, brittle fingernails
Thin and brittle hair
Paleness

Some of those symptoms fit my pregnancy profile, except the hair and nails. I have always had thick hair and nails. But, I have terribly dry skin and hair.

They never felt a goiter and I was taken off the medication for hypothyroidism soon after Gabe was born. Do I still have hypothyroidism? Could it be depression? Anxiety issues? I just feel a little off. I'll be 35 years old soon. Did someone throw me on the menapause wagon a little too early? Early dementia? I'm at a loss as to where to start with the medical community. I don't even have a doctor. When I find one, they either disappear from "the group" (that should be a clear sign of something) or they leave to continue their profession elsewhere. So, I have specialists scattered everywhere, but no one that knows me, my medical history or needs.

I couldn't even get an appointment today (Hello strep throat) because I had not seen a doctor within 'the group" within the last six months. I was not a "current" patient, so they could not squeeze me into their already booked time slots. I do not exist. I could not even get accepted by a group of people I would pay to see me. This left me with a whole new list of feelings to deal with today along with my burning throat, exhausted body, a killer headache and a sad Boo, because I was too sick to play Fairytopia with her.

I always wondered why it is that someone doesn't hand you a maintence schedule at the doctors office? I could really use a clingy that reminds me that if I haven't had sex, slept well, or had skin that peeled and cracked no matter what, that in three months I need to see someone about it. I need a list that states specifically what I need to have done every so many "miles". I need it to cater specifically to me. Does the fact that my father had pallaps mean I should have a colonoscopy earlier? I need a list! I wanna know. Does the fact that my mom smoked consistency around me for 18 years and then I coninued for 9 years mean I should be screened for lung cancer?

As I get older, I find that I am more drawn to other people's health issues. I want to know what that test was like and how exactly does Chemo work? I want to be prepared. Is 35 the year you start planning for your health for tomorrow?

Gabe's New Phrase Besides Me Too!

2007-03-14T19:43:00.000-04:00

What's on my Ipod? Obviously very little that Gabe wanted to listen too. Because, according to Gabe, when I asked him if he wanted to listen to The Goo Goo Dolls' song Sympathy he replied with,"I don't think so."

Pink!? Dixie Chicks? Christina Aguilera? Maroon 5? Black Eyed Peas?

Was that an I don't think so?
I said, "Oh really?"
"Highway song. Listen to highway song!" Gabe cheered.
Gabe has a few songs that he is really into. They are the following...

Life is a Highway Rascal Flatts

Real Gone Cheryl Crow

Time to Start Blue Man Group

Shine Robots soundtrack

Black Horse and the Cherry Tree KT Tunstall

Irresistible Beyonce (He says to the right, to the right instead of to the left)

He loves to sing. In fact, Gabe knows much more than he lets on. I remember about 6 months ago we started expecting Gabe to participate in grace. First, just sitting quietly, then putting his hands together to pray, and then saying Amen. It took him about a month to catch on.

One evening, we made Gabe's favorite, steak and french fries with a cold cup of milk. We all sat down, hands together and began in prayer....Bless us O'Lord....enthusiastically, Gabe continued...and we stopped. We stopped saying grace, because Gabe was not only saying Grace with us, but could recite our prayer in its entirety, word for word, all the way up until the Amen.
"Amen!" he smiled.

Amazed, I asked Gabe, "What are you thankful for?"

He laughed and proudly stated, "French Fries!"

Amen.

It's All About Chocolate and Karma

2007-03-08T20:41:00.000-05:00

February/March marks the time of year for placing your child's name on several preschool waiting lists...for next year and the possibility for an IEP meeting with our district. If you remember, Gabe can not attend school until he has been

"re-evaluated" (I am laughing, snarkly, at how our district evaluated Gabe) We are tossing around a few ideas.

This has raised an interesting question for SD and I.....
"Do we have to have an IEP?"
Can he attend preschool without one?
It's an interesting question. Academically, Gabe is right on par with his peers, I work very closely with a Behavioral Therapist (ABA) for all his goals, his speech is coming along while he receives private speech, and the school district seems reluctant to provide any help with behavioral issues....So....."What does Gabe need an IEP for?"

I was planning on sending Gabe to the same preschool that Boo went to in our public school and I would be a room mom or shadow him for the first week or two. If his behavior became an issue, then we would look to preschools that cater to children that need extra help in certain areas, like Gabe's preschool now. Unfortunately, Gabe's current preschool only provides preschool for two half days a week. Next school year, Gabe will need to be in preschool for 5, 1/2 days. He is just ready. He's ready right now, but it's too late in the year. I also want to continue his involvement in extra curricular activities like swimming, gymnastics, soccer, storytime and such.

SD's thoughts are this....I should call the Special Education Director and let him hear some of our thoughts, this way the preschool teachers would not feel like they were being deceived if we just put Gabe in their class. I had asked during our last IEP if Gabe could attend the regular preschool with an aide and I was told no. But, were they saying no to the aide or the preschool part? I want to believe it was the aide, because the people in the room during our IEP had never even met Gabe and the only info they have about him is from when they evaluated Gabe at 18 months old. (!)

If it doesn't pan out, we have a few other ideas up our sleeve outside of our district. We just really wanted to Gabe to have friends that live nearby and not an hour away like he does now from his current preschool.

I just want what is best for Gabe.
I just want a preschool teacher to fall in love with all that is wonderful about him.

I want someone that will not stereotype or limit him based on his diagnosis.

I want him to keep soaring and I need someone who will help him with his wings from time to time when we are not there.

It's a big list, but I am going to go out there with the belief that that person is out there.

I am going to extend good Karma, good vibes and chocolate. Chocolate.....just because.

Me

2007-02-24T20:36:00.000-05:00

Ok. This will be a little off subject.
Well, kind've.
It's what the other part of this blog is supposed to be about.... me.
Who's that you may ask? Who's me? I know a lot of other mom's have asked that same question. Who is she talking about? Who's this me person anyway? I don't have time to take care of yet another person in my life, let alone someone called... Me. Who invited me anyway? Does me do laundry? Cause if me does, well then, I'm allllllllll ears.

This is me

I'm the one on the far right...that's me.

Me consists of haircuts from Borics, Target hair dye and Old Navy and Gap are what suit me. On really fancy days... my nails are painted a flashy, clear color, all for me.
In the days when me was more I, as in Borics was by Kroger and I never looked twice. I went to a fancy salon and spent 12x more on a haircut and color. I still wore Gap and Old Navy, I just had more clothes. I sometimes had nails with color *gasp*.

I doesn't have a place in my life with me. I like me. I is just one letter. Personally, I wants to be in a pair with M and E. I was eventually given a chance in Moi.

Me was great, that's until, there was a very fancy wedding coming up.
That's when me, wanted to be I again.

When me wants to look like this.....

Wearing these...

Maybe even...

Me is so excited for I!

The New Boss

2007-02-15T12:32:00.000-05:00

After leaving Gabe's previous preschool, CARE (Children With Autism Reaching Excellence), I found myself thrown full force into the stay at home mom life. And, for those of you that don't know, this life does not revolve around delicious ice cream filled chocolates, over stuffed couches, and a large screen TV playing Sex and the City reruns. There is a whole other time clock that is monitored closely by a new boss, the child that you entertain every second of the day. It can be exhausting and I might add with some guilt, a little mind numbing.

Gabe has a pretty good social schedule, and we have figured out what works well (it does cater much more to him) in terms of needed space and downtime, although it never seems long enough for me to recharge. It's the isolation and monotony that is beginning to take its toll. I don't think I complete even one thought or sentence a day. I am either interrupted or multitasking to the point where the joy of the conversation itself becomes a task I just want to finish. SD is the only adult I have a slight chance to talk to about something other than my child or any children for that matter. Problem is, my cherished time with my husband is challenged by my equally needy daughter, Boo. Boo desires the same companionship the minute she comes home from school. SD (Super Daddy) is a popular person in our home.

My tutoring with Gabe and ABA is going OK at home, better than I thought, mostly with continuity and amount of time. His intraverbal programs were tricky in the beginning, because they require so much language. (Go figure) We do have a great tutor that comes one day on the weekend to work for a few hours. She is incredible with helping fix what I may have done incorrectly with Gabe's programs. The maintenance for ABA is a lot of work. He has mastered a very large number of programs, some with exemplars that reach into the 40's. The intraverbals with extensions are a challenge. Gabe does about 1-2 hours a day of ABA provided by me. When I say that, it includes trials, play and motor. Some structured, some not. We also work on other target areas incidentally throughout the day like generalization, dressing, eating and behavior. Some days, I just want to throw his ABA book out the window, other days, it is like the Holy Bible. It definitely requires dedication. I do it even when I would rather jump off a cliff. Gabe and I always end up having fun, because we are really just playing with a purpose. It's that I have to do it that causes the tension. There are also days when Gabe would rather do anything but tell you what has a mane or what is salty.

Gabe has also been testing boundaries...hourly. Turning the TV off brings out a side of Gabe that is the most challenging. I have tried everything, but obviously the no TV track. It's just not feasible. Why you ask? Because I am not willing to let it go. It's down to 2 1/2 hours a day, quite a feat for us, but still seems high to me. He is refusing to leave certain activities and places (Gymnastics, toy department at the store, Meijers)transitioning as we refer to it, and picking up Gabe is getting to be almost impossible at a solid 48 lbs. 43 inches. We have consulted someone and am working on various strategies to use with Gabe. I am tense and wonder when my hair is going to fall out. Did I mention it is every hour? For most transitions?

I know this is all me. It has nothing to do with Autism, bad hair days, or the impending emptiness of our bank account. It has to do with just hating winter, being trapped inside, not putting enough effort into maintaining friendships or extending myself beyond my "acceptable" boundaries. I have a period every winter when I just want to cry from frustration, feeling trapped, and wondering why in the hell do I still live in Michigan. It's only half way into February, green grass and sunshine do not even start to show until late May.

So, I vented. I'm a little lonely, lacking in coherent thought and without any ice cream that I can eat without feeling guilty that it is the middle of the day.

Born On A Blue Day

2007-02-05T07:41:00.000-05:00

After seeing the interview with Daniel Tammet on Good Morning America, I knew this would be the next book about Autism that I would read. Born On A Blue Day is best quoted by Temple Grandin, "It was fascinating to read how the mind of a mathematical savant is both similar to and different from my visual brain. Daniel thinks in patterns, colors and shapes, and relationships between numbers, instead of in photo -realistic images. This book is a must- read for anybody who is interested in how the mind works."

I found that this story, like Temple Grandin's, brings hope and understanding. For me, it shed even more light on my brother. My brother, although not formally diagnosed, has Autistic Spectrum Disorder. It became so clear after Gabe's diagnosis that I almost called him after years of not speaking to one another to let him know. I ended up never making that call.

Was my brother a savant? Now, I'm not sure. I never thought so before. But, after reading Daniel's book, I wonder. I wonder, because my brother loved numbers passionately like Daniel. His physical world was very chaotic and unstructured, but his mental creations with his games and papers of statistics were very organized. He had numerous sheets of papers listing Kasey Kasem's top 40 countdown for every week, with mathematical equations that provided probabilities for the following week's song's placements.

"Who's going to come on top Kristin?" he would glance up at me.
"I have no idea." I stated and slowly walked away.
"Come on! Take a guess! Wanna bet?" my brother's eyes glistened.
I didn't, because it isn't fun when you always loose.

My brother had a huge gambling problem when I was in college. It wasn't that he lost a lot, he was very good. He loved the art of probability. What hurt him was his belief that people meant what they said and said what they meant. People bet, but never paid up. Sometimes my brother lost, and those same people made sure to collect.

Now, Daniel Tammet had a very supportive family. He was loved and accepted for exactly who he was. Both his parents encouraged his passions, no matter how different they seemed. My brother came from a very different background of judgment, harsh criticism and wavering acceptance. The similarities I saw between the two were startling to me, even considering those differences. Daniel had a love for numbers, mostly prime, my brother loved all numbers the same, because they were a constant, easy to understand. They represented stability to my brother. They were safe in a world that wasn't.

Language was a love of Daniel's. In fact, in his book, he makes some languages sound so beautiful, so easy to understand. I can see how he affected his students the way that he did when he taught. My brother's wish was to travel to every continent. He also had a list of every city he wanted to go to. If you asked him, he could tell you the city of every country in the world. It was customary for him too learn the language before traveling to a country. The last I heard, he traveled to Romania, fluently speaking Romanian.

This all never seemed all that remarkable to me. I just always admired how brilliant my brother was. I also felt so frustrated when he "just didn't get" life's innuendoes. I remember saying to him, "How can you be so smart,but lack so much common sense?" Now it makes sense. It all makes sense. I bet my brother would love this book, all the equations and mathematical reasoning. To him, a math concept is to me,children's artwork, something to celebrate. I'm hoping he picks up Born On A Blue Day soon and it can shed some needed light for him too.

My brother and I on my parents sailboat in 1975. I was Gabe's age (3 years old) my brother was seven. You can even see in the picture how different we were. He is shadowed in the background and I am trying so hard just to be seen.

Your child is a wonderful piece of art

2007-02-01T12:04:00.001-05:00

Gabe's Rainbow Fish inspired by Marcus Pfister's illustrations.

I think it's incredible. I think all children's artwork is incredible. My own children's art.....well, I'm over the moon when they create. It is pasted all over our house, framed, taped, signed, unsigned, abstract, early symbols, picture's that tell a story. They amaze me. I have framed over our bed Boo's very first scibbles. Someone once said to me, "Wow! Now, that's a fancy frame for that picture." But, you see, it's so right for it, because it reminds me everyday of how much she has grown, everyone's, including my own, need to create and share ourselves with others, how wonderfully color brightens and enriches our world, and finally, that nothing is obsolete, stagnent, unchanging.....(in the metaphorical sense). My chemists husband, SD, would disagree with the last statement, so I had to end in "the disclaimer".

That is a hard lesson to hold onto as a parent sometimes.
"Will Johnny ever tie his shoes?"
"How come my child doesn't know their alphabet?"
"Olivia just isn't very coordinated."
Sometimes, without intention, we frame our own children. We place the borders around their world, pick a colored mat, "Patty always has liked pink!" and we close it and stare at what we have created. On occasion, or maybe even more than we like, we forget that our children are always changing. Some slower than others, many at warp speed. Children may have a clear path, while other's are all over the place. I am one of those parents that need to constantly change the artwork, leave craft stuff sprawled all over the table, pipe cleaners, glue, scissors, colored paper, stamps, stickers and let Gabe and Boo go at it. Create! Work outside the boundries! It let's me see them outside of the frame I have created for them.

I have to remember that change is inevitable. Gabe is always changing. I may not see the change for awhile, but it's happening....all the time. I may be so focused on language that I miss him jumping 3x in a row over a ball! He is creating masterpieces all day long in his world. He is trying on different colors, different textures, different everything.

I mention all this, because we are at a crossroad again with Gabe and his need to be around other children. He wants to play all the time! (Hooray!) But, I can not provide all that for him. So where do we turn. We have been thinking of many options, but seem to find ourselves back at square one, public school. I like the frame I have for Gabe now, but his artwork is telling me something very different. Don't you think?

Fade Back

2007-01-24T20:04:00.000-05:00

Around and around we went in the gym of Gabe's old school.
Skipping around in a circle, smiling at Gabe and cheering "Yeah!"
"This is so much fun!" Are you having fun too?" Gabe smiles back at me.
The music changes and we all start galloping.
I swear I hear the song "Just the two of us" begin, playing faintly in the background. This IS so much fun! Gabe and I. What a pair.
That's when I got the cue.
"Fade back."
"Let's see how he does on his own," his therapist says gently.
Already?
So soon?
Are you sure?
I step back, regain my breath. The older they get, the harder it is to keep up.
Looking over in his direction, I see that they are all now tiptoeing, pausing to put their fingers up to their mouth, "Shhhhh." Gabe giggles. This is his favorite part of the song.
And there he is...on his own.
Without me.
What happened?
Where did all the time go?
I'm not ready.
I really am not.
I know I should be.
I know I have to do this.
But he was 2 years old just yesterday!

Trust is a huge issue with me. Who will watch and make sure he is getting all that he needs if I am not there to guide, nurture and cheer? Does that statement sound arrogant? The assumption that only I could provide exactly what my son needs. I know in my mind that it is false, but my heart sways me a whole other direction most of the time.
I sadly and painfully let go of Boo this year when she started Kindergarten. Leaving her at preschool out of my sight was traumatic enough for me, so I was at least prepared somewhat mentally for the transition this year. Her severe allergy to peanuts just compounded my anxiety. I have days when I wonder if she will be coming home that day or will this be the last time I say goodbye? Sounds overly dramatic, but having an allergy that causes anaphylactic shock, puts the possibility of death at your doorstep everyday. You hope that the adults around her notice the warning signs, because those same signs can mask themselves to appear less threatening like the flu, and time determines the difference between life and death. She is still too young to give herself the shot. I do not know if she would anyway. Boo is petrified of her Epi Pen.It hurts. Boo and shots do not mix.
Either way, I know I would still be as neurotic and anxiety ridden with or without allergies or a diagnosis. That's just who I am. I have been "working on it" my whole life.

So, I stood back once again and watched Gabe. I have been doing that a lot lately. Sometimes restraining my hands by placing them in my pockets or under my legs when I sit. I curl my lips in, so as not to say anything when Gabe is asked a question by someone he doesn't know. I repeat in my head generalize, generalize. If I am there to always repeat the question he will never answer for anyone else. That is the hardest habit to break for me. It's so much easier if I create the first footing to the bridge of communication for him, so that's what I tell myself, eventhough I know it is not true.

Fade back.
I thought this is what you did during their teenage years, but then isn't that really when they need you most? When transition is no longer referring to letting go of blankets and pacifiers, but about serious life choices that could forever change the course of your child's life. Is fading back a road that other parents are already on? Our path seems so underdeveloped in some areas, with potholes and gravel, while other parts are as smooth as a new subdivisions entrance. I'm never sure whether I will need the SUV on a given day or will our compact get us to where we need to go safely without adversely affecting our alignment.

We received another birthday invitation today. Our neighbor's little boy is turning 4 years old. I had a hard time swallowing when I saw the number 4 right above Scooby Doo's grin. Four? Already? Gabe is 6 months younger than him. Gabe will be four soon. He'll also be 25 someday, but the number four means so many more things to me right now. Milestones that bring worry. The largest being, sending Gabe to school, very possibly a public one. The most terrifying test of all for me. The time where I will really be fading back. Where mommy's do not hold their child's hand throughout the day, protect from bullies and provide clear understanding of the wants and needs for their child.

I am, in effect, Gabe's public relations agent.
It's time for me to move out of the way.
I'm hogging the red carpet.
It's time for me to fade back.

Finally, Some Winter Fun

2007-01-22T19:37:00.000-05:00

This is Gabe outside! In snowpants! Wearing gloves! And a Hat! And Boots! Can not forget THE BOOTS! But, only after we told him he could not watch TV later that afternoon if he did not get bundled up and go sledding. See the smile after a few times down the hill on his sled?

"Weeeeeeee! I want swed! (sled)!" -Gabe
We invited our neighbors over to sled the next day. One of their boys is Gabe's age. Gabe is so much bigger than him. I'm beginning to wonder how tall Gabe will end up being.

The ice under the snow made it really fast! Boo liked it when I put a spin on her sled.

SD and I had to literally catch the kids at the bottom of our hill or they would go into our woods.
Boo was really sad when our nature walk in our woods led to ice and water and we had to turn back. She was so excited to use her binoculars to spot animals and look for tracks. We have seen deer back in the trees and occasionally in our yard. It was too hard to find a good footing. Gabe kept pulling me along saying, "Come on mommy!" I was afraid we would break through the ice and fall in.

Hope you have had some good snow too!
Stay tuned for our winter 2007 snowperson.

To Coriander

2007-01-18T12:30:00.000-05:00

Lay down
Your sweet and weary head
Night is falling
You have come to journey's end
Sleep now
And dream of the ones who came before
They are calling
From across a distant shore
Why do you weep?
What are these tears upon your face?
Soon you will see
All of your fears will pass away
Safe in my arms
You're only sleeping
What can you see On the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea
A pale moon rises
The ships have come to carry you home
And all will turn To silver glass
A light on the water
All Souls pass
Hope fades Into the world of night
Through shadows falling
Out of memory and time
Don't say We have come now to the end
White shores are calling
You and I will meet again
And you'll be here in my arms
Just sleeping
And all will turn To silver glass
A light on the water
Grey ships pass Into the West
-Annie Lennox (from the song Into The West)

Goodbye, my sweet buddy. Goodbye.

The New Drug On The Street

2007-01-17T20:28:00.000-05:00

Here at our house we are dealing with Noggin Crack. We have begun a very painful detox. Drastic measures had to be taken, but we are all pulling through it together. Some of us more than others. Oobi, Wow! Wow! Wubbzy! and "the all powerful" The Wonder Pets will now be viewed much less frequently. We were all caught off guard by Noggin's great programming. All of it wonderfully entertaining and new, so much so, that the toys stayed neglected, songs unsung, games unchallenged and pictures uncolored.

Noggin has affected Gabe the most. In the last week, he has begun to continuously sing the same songs, along with some of the verbage leading up to and after the occurance of the song within the episode. Which, as I have posted in the past, has lead to growth in his language, but recently the scripting has turned to perseverating with dialogue between characters being repeated over and over with dancing exactly like the characters in the opening credits. Charlie and Lola has been scripted and reenacted down to the slightest movement and giggle (There is Disney Smack). Gabe likes to imitate Lola the most.

As some of you know, Noggin starts at 6am and ends at 6pm. We also have Tivo and Gabe is aware of all our technological devices and their capabilities. I would say that one average Gabe watched about 1 1/2 hours in the morning (he gets up around 6:30 and leaves with me to drop off Boo at school) during that time we are showering, packing, dressing, eating, etc. He watched about an hour in the afternoon for quiet time and then an hour when Boo came home from school before dinner. That's about 3 1/2 hours! No wonder he was so strung out. What's funny is we were so busy going here and there, ABA everyday, preschool, gymnastics, playdates. It was the short hours we spent stopping off at home, before heading out again, that Noggin became a great way (crutch or my crack) of pausing to grab lunch, make phone calls or throw in a load of laundry. We all depended on it in one way or another.

So, today I began the detoxing processing. At preschool, Gabe turned to me when I asked what he'd like to do next, play with puzzles or cars, and responded with, "Watch T.V.?"
The Crack has gotta go!
When we got home, I turned off the power strip to the T.V. in the playroom and the Tivo in the Familyroom. I grabbed my Caribbean Jazz CD and started making us lunch. I could hear Gabe in the other room pushing the button to the T.V.
"Not working!" click, click of the button.
"Not working Mommy!"
I just ignored him and waited. If I even mentioned the T.V. and why it wasn't working, I do not think I would have given him the opportunity to figure out for himself what to do when the TV isn't on.
My God!
What do you do without the TV?
I know. Does he?
He came into the kitchen and immediately smiled upon hearing the music. I started dancing and he smiled some more.
Over lunch, we laughed and rubbed our tummies, celebrating the new chips, Ruffles.
"I want a BIG chip!" Gabe says with excitement.
We cleared the table and went into the playroom to *gasp* play and do Gabe's daily ABA programs.
It was so much fun! After almost two hours, I leave Gabe to play ,while I got a drink. Upon coming back I hear, "Watch TV?"
If Gabe does good during his ABA Programs he is allowed to watch a Noggin program.
So, I set the timer. I told Gabe when it goes off after The Backyardigans, that is the end of TV until Boo comes home. Then, she gets to choose one program to watch after that, TV is turned off until tomorrow. He handled it pretty well. There was only one loud, "No!" with a quick whimper. SD asked if he wanted to play Troll (A game he invented) and then all was well.

Now, there is a part of me that wants to go cold turkey. No TV. Only good can come from no TV. I've never heard of anyone suffering from not having viewed TV. But, we are just going to work on limiting it to 2 hours a day. One hour in the morning, and two half hours in the afternoon.
Wish us luck.

Just Say No To Noggin Crack

Things That Come In Three

2007-01-14T19:50:00.000-05:00

My husband is a strong believer of famous people always dying in groups of three. What's funny is that he seems to always be right on mark. I'd call it coincidence if it had happened only a few times, but as circumstance would have it, it comes to fruition every time. Recently it was James Brown, Gerald Ford and finally Saddam Hussein. Our weekend also came with a strange equation that amounted to three.

#1
The first being the strange, but very irritating phone call SD (Super Daddy) picked up at work on Friday. It was by pure chance that he even answered his phone, because calls rarely ever go directly to him, because he is a teacher. It was a parent claiming that she heard from this person's neighbor's son's cousin who went to the party store and over heard from the person buying smack on the corner....Ok, that's an exaggeration, but the way I heard it from SD, she lost her credibility the minute she opened her mouth. Anyway, to make a long,with nails on the chalkboard, story short, she accused SD of pocketing funds from a trip that he puts together for his students. If you know SD, you're already saying," What the @!!!% " This parent insisted that she had seen his W4 and stated the company from which this bonus was given. The name she gave as being on the W4 was not even SD's name and he has never worked for the company that supposedly gave him a bonus. SD was not in a good mood when he came home from work.

Happy Friday!

#2
So, I thought, we could take the kids to play at McDonald's, have dinner and try to unwind. I really dislike fastfood more than you know, but 3 out of four would be getting something out of this trip, I didn't mind the sacrifice. Gabe got wheat free French fries from BK down the street and we were good to go.

It wasn't too crowded and the ages for good play friends had potential. Boo was short on the girl friends, but managed to find a boy to act silly with. Gabe hooked up with a boy who may have been about four who had a sister (twins?) There was giggling, laughter, running and big smiles. I think a big fear for most parents is whether their children will be liked. I worry for both of my children. Not, because they aren't likeable, because I adore and think both are fantastically wonderful, caring, hilarious, and spectacular in their own right. But, you wonder how the rest of the world will perceive them without wearing "mommy glasses".
After coming down the slide, Gabe runs up behind the boy he was playing with and next thing I see is Gabe being clobbered by that same child. Then, Gabe starts pushing back. I immediately yell, "Hey!" "No hitting!" They both stop and we call Gabe over. The other boy's mom never looks up from her book. She was right across from them.
I am furious, but assume it has ended and cross my fingers that Gabe does not go near that boy again. I watch nervously as Gabe climbs back into the play structure. "Rocky Balboa", the offending boy, comes running up behind him, passes him while climbing up and gives a good kick at Gabe's face, intentionally.

Before I know it, my chair squeaks over the greasy floor, I'm up and running, blood pumping through my veins. I could feel my face puff up like the Incredible Hulk. "You stop hitting my son!" I say loud enough for the drive through to hear, pointing my finger at the little monster.
Mom comes over lifts up the boy and I state again, in case she missed it while reading her book, "Your son keeps hitting my son!"
"Well, that's because he was pushing him," she retorts back.
I respond with a mix of anger and sarcasm,"He... Was.... Hitting... Him!" "He's only three!" I feel like I should be wearing a tank top, braless, on a Jerry Springer Stage.
Gabe comes down and starts eating his fries. He looks aware of what happened, but not as aware as my Boo was. We hardly ever yell in our house, so when SD and I raise our voice, it is a big deal. I am amazed at my reaction. Amazed that I have this instinct to squash anyone or anything that may harm my children. I am like a wild momma bear protecting her cubs. Kinda freaky in a way. I think I need to corral my emotions a little and bring it down a notch from Springer to Oprah.
10 minutes later and I wishing that our run of bad luck would end sometime soon, mom comes over with "the boy" and has him apologize. I also have Gabe apologize for pushing. I tell her I appreciate what she did and she smiles and says she is only the babysitter.

Happy Friday .....Again!

#3
Gabe only had a little compliance issue with his tutor Saturday morning, which was totally expected since this is only her second time over our house. I thought, "Whew!" If this is the third thing, well, we made it! This was where I did my happy dance and began to plan the wonderful possibilities for the rest of our weekend. We could turn it around. We still had time. I looked over to where my cat came walking through the kitchen and saw that he was limping. He is an indoor cat, 14 years old, in very good health. So, I thought, maybe he fell off of something. I immediately call our vet, get the last appointment. I wondered how they would put a cast on my little buddy. Could it be arthritis? Osteoporosis? A disjointed hip?
At the vets, they get him on the examination table right away. They observe which leg it was and begin to feel the bones in that leg. My face begins to get hot, the room spins and I feel like laying face first on the cold linoleum before I have the chance to pass out. Instead, I wash out his carrier just to keep from not looking at what they are doing. They decide they need an X-ray.

The X-ray reveals nothing about his leg. All his bones look fine. In fact, perfectly fine. Huh. Then she pulls up the next slide that shows the rest of his body from the side. She says that organs appear white and the lungs black because they are filled with air. Everything looks right to me. What should I be seeing, that I don't?
The lungs had confetti like specks all over them. I thought it was veins, they were tumors. Maybe 20 or more all over his lungs. My beloved pet was dying of Cancer and it had probably spread to his leg.

Happy Saturday.

What was even more....I can't even find the word....was that as I walked out of the examining room with my buddy in his carrier, the receptionist and another worker there were talking about Aspergers and Autism from the "I know someone, who knows someone" tense.
I wanted to shout, "Can you give me one God Damn thing to deal with at a time God? Can ya? Can ya? huh?"
The next day I wondered if God was trying to show me something. Was my cat a metaphor for Gabe's inability to tell me when something was wrong, that he maybe really ill and I would never know? I had dreamed this past week, before all this happened, that Boo died from a tumor. I woke up at 2am that morning afraid to go back to sleep. What did it mean? SD and I joke all the time about me thinking I have a tumor. Oh, I have a bad headache, must be a tumor. But, as I get older, I'm making more connections in life. I see and understand more of life's lessons. I just wish I could pick and choose the lessons I want to learn.

Letters brought to you by the Bathroom

2007-01-12T07:33:00.000-05:00

While washing his hands this morning, Gabe starts spelling......D...a...n...? then it gets softer and softer. The noise of the water only enables me to try to unsuccessfully read his lips for some clue. But no luck.

"Dinosaurs?" I guess.
"No," Gabe smiles.
Then he it repeats again...."D...A...N....I......M....A...L...S", giggle, giggle.

Ohhhhhh. OH!
Did he just spell a word????

I know it is probably recited from a commercial, but then he maybe beginning to piece together how words and letters work together. He has known his letters and sounds for over six months now.Am I making more out of this than I should? Who cares, I say! What a great way to begin my day!

I love commercials!

Wishes

2007-01-06T18:52:00.000-05:00

There are moments that moms and dads everywhere look forward to the minute their child is born. Most of these lists read the same, first step, first words, first day at school, all milestones of growing from a baby to a young boy or girl. For us we have been fortunate to be able to celebrate many of these milestones with both of our children. Gabe has surprised us on countless occasions with just how far he really has come. His language is more spontaneous, he is less impulsive, fantastic eye contact, beautiful smile, and is truly an engaging little boy. But, beyond that, there are small wishes that I still have. One of them came true tonight.

I have spoken about Gabe having been non-verbal/ non communicate at the age of 2. I remember, soon after putting the pieces together that Gabe was Autistic, crying on my neighbors front lawn, trying to explain what Autism was and believing that my son, who I love so deeply, would probably never call me mommy. My neighbor hugged me, probably having no idea what to say, and I feeling like my world had just caved in. That became my first wish. My small wish was for him to call me mommy just once. And it happened a few weeks after starting the intensive ABA program over a year and a half ago. While sitting at the kitchen table one evening, Gabe walked up to me, looked at me and said, "Mommy", then walked away. It happened so quick that I sat there stunned, mesmerized by the print on his shirt as he walked away from me. I then turned and stared at SD (Super Daddy) and said "Did you hear that?" "Did he just call me mommy?" I felt my eyes get blurry and wet, I began to cry. My first wish had come true.

My second wish happened tonight. SD typically puts the kids up to bed, wrestles with them,then reads them each a few stories and tucks them in so I can get laundry done, lunches made and pick up the house a little so everyone can mess it up again tomorrow. Before heading up to bed, each gets their individual medicine (mostly for allergies) then PJ's are put on and kisses and hugs are given to me before WWF begins in Gabe's room with loud giggles and thumps on the bed. Boo gives me numerous, sweet kisses and a great big hug. Tonight, I hear Gabe running up the stairs, so excited to wrestle with SD, forgetting my kisses.
" Gabe, come give me a kiss!"
Laughing, I hear his little foot steps come down the stairs, he rounds the corner with a big smile on his face.
"SMMMMMMAAAH!" He smacks his lips on mine.
"I love you Gabe," I squeeze a big squeeze not wanting to let go, but I eventually do.
"I love you!" he says to me with a big smile in return and runs away.

I have waited 3 1/2 years to hear those three words.

I love you.

My second wish has come true.

Sometimes the smallest wishes, the ones that get tucked behind the speech hopes, stepped on by the allergy fears and forgotten the minute public school is mentioned, are the wishes that are the best of all.

My Motto for the Year

2007-01-02T20:50:00.000-05:00

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
We ask ourselves,
Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

-Marianne Williamson

That is my motto for this new year. That is my motto for doing ABA Therapy,celebrating Gabe's sense of humor, for returning to the Stay at Home Mom Club, and my motto for instilling a pride and a sense of moral strength to my daughter and son.

So, this is what is on Gabe's plate for 2007...

-Two days a week at a speech based preschool (6hrs weekly)
-1 class a week of Gymnastics (1 hr weekly)
-1 class a week attending a regular preschool with peers (3 hrs weekly)
-3 opportunities (outside of preschool and classes) for playdates (3+ hrs weekly)
-10 hours a week of ABA (7 hours me, 2 hrs SD, 2 hrs. ABA Therapist)
-2 meetings a month with ABA Therapist /Psychologist)(2 hrs + monthly)
-2 opportunities for playdates/crafttime per month at ABA school (4hrs+ monthly)
- 2 speech sessions a week with Dr. Karen (1 hr weekly)
- Fine motor/ craft projects (1 1/2 hrs weekly)
- Storytime at the Library (possibly) 1x per week 1/2 hour

His schedule is packed! We are going to have so much fun :o) Our major focus will be to work on enabling Gabe to strengthen his skills with socializing with others. He is doing great with his ABA programs that focus primarily with intraverbals, fluency and beginning math, like counting. He has such a strong foundation for having friends. He wants friends and he is the type of person that will always enjoy having close friends. So, together we will build friendships, him and I. We're getting on the friendship wagon (some of us again) and Gabe and I will learn to go beyond what we know, what is comfortable, to the uncomfortable
and we will bloom.

A New Year

2006-12-30T23:14:00.000-05:00

So, here is an odd tidbit about me that I bet you will say to yourself....."Ok...and what do I do with that?"

I am not a fan of odd numbers. 2006...good. 2007.....doesn't look or sound good to me.
Do I take it really serious? Do I meticulously plan outings from the home to occur only on even days? No, not really, but if I had to choose a day for an important date, I would definitely go even. As life sometimes just happens, many important dates in my life happened, oddly enough (no pun intended) on odd days, months or years. Both my children were born in odd months, on odd days in odd years, I think God was poking fun at my neuroses. I probably met SD on an odd day, month or year...Huh. Ya know what? It was an odd year that we met come to think of it! So maybe it should be the other way around? Who knows.

If you have a quick moment on New Years Eve, know that I am wishing you all well in the New Year and that secretly I am also wishing it was an even year. Just because.

CHEERS!!!!!

The Fundamental Question

2006-12-28T21:08:00.000-05:00

"So, are you still teaching?" he looked at me, drink in hand.
"No, no I have two children. I taught for about seven years until my daughter was born." I proudly state.
"So, what do you do now?" he asks.
What do I do now? Huh. Did he miss the two children part?
And then it hit me. The little wheel turning in my head that says, "Yeah...what exactly are you doing now?"

My thoughts raced to find the answer. I let myself search through the past five years looking for something, anything that would be remarkable to say that I have done. What have I done? What have I done that would translate to the working world as something formidable, valuable to the whole of mankind or at least those that work nine to five. All I could think of was trains (I now know a lot about trains), School House Rock (I can sing almost every song) and Nemo underwear . Is that all I got? Thomas, kid songs and underwear?
So, nothing.....nothing comes out. And we stand staring at one another.

He's an aide to a US attorney, lives in a beautiful place on top of a mountain with his new wife, also an attorney, no kids. He and I are on totally separate paths, that is really apparent. I know that. But why, after five years, I still stumble when asks what I do as a mom?

He's a great guy, very funny, but it really struck a cord this time. Why haven't I gotten it together yet?

When SD and I went to bed that night, the answer finally came to me. What do I do as a mom? I love my children. I love them until I feel like I couldn't love them any more at the end of the day. That's what I do. Plain and simple.
Why is it hard to find that answer sometimes?
I wonder.

Making Friends

2006-12-21T11:52:00.000-05:00

This past Tuesday was our last day at Gabe's ABA school. (I'll post more on that later) So, it has left a few days a little off schedule for Gabe and I. We haven't hung out at home for the past year and a half due to his school being about an hour away. I spent most days, while Gabe attended school, walking at a mall or floundering between Target and Kohls. You would think I would've done something spectacular with my time, like write a book or develop a plan to cure world hunger, but I didn't. Most of the time I enjoyed just being by myself . The stress of how our lives changed so rapidly after Gabe's diagnosis of ASD and what it entailed took quite a bit of time for me to get used to. I am stronger now and have a great exercise schedule that is keeping me healthier than I ever been in my life.

It felt really great not to do the long drive yesterday. The crazy, old people that seemed to hover around the area hospital where Gabe's school was, will not be missed. They drove without a purpose and seemed to believe that as long as they didn't hit your car really hard it was OK. It made the 20 minutes from the expressway to our destination very scary. I can not even count on one hand how many accidents I saw that happened about a mile from school. I will, however, miss the smiles from his therapists, secretary, and people from the program before. It's hard being a stay at home mom, it's the isolation that can get to you. When you know the cashiers by name at the supermarket, you have officially been inducted to the Stay At Home Mom's Club. I have my card, wanna see it?

So, with all that comes extra time. I already have a comprehensive plan, with goals, for Gabe that will begin after the holidays.But, I have two days of unplanned time. YIKES! I have managed to make it fun for me and for Gabe with these goals in mind....

1. I need to exercise 45 minutes both days in order to prepare for the two pieces of pie that SD's mom's will serve me on Christmas Eve and on Christmas Day. Don't get me wrong, they are delicious, but two? I feel obligated. I say "small pieces, please" and I swear they are cut to wedges that look like the Titanic breaking through the ice dams!

2. Gabe is to have limited TV, computer and video game time. One video after lunch, video game for 1/2 hour when Boo comes home and 1/2 before lunch of computer time.

3. I will spend at least 2 hours of the day fully engaged with Gabe doing games, playing with toys or anything that he chooses to do. They may be broken up in 1/2 hour increments.

4. Gabe will spend some time playing with a toy independently that I have begun with him and then let him explore on his own. The Fisher Price toys and the train work well for this.

5. Both days Gabe will be given at least 45 minutes of social play with peers working on the following goals...

*Introducing himself to playdate
*Asking what their name is
*Asking if they want to play one of the following things....Chase, acting like a cat, playing dinosaurs, follow the leader (He may also just ask to play what they already maybe playing)
*Saying goodbye when they have to leave.

So, that leaves me with what happened today when we practiced our new skills.

After walking for 45 minutes (It is so much harder when you have to push a 4o lb. child in a crickety stroller), I was glistening for sure! Gabe got to chose what he wanted to do for fun, see the fish at the huge hunting store, look at the crocodile and fish at The Rain Forest Cafe or play in the play area in the middle of the food court. He happily chose the play area. Thank goodness, because it makes playing with someone easier. That is where we met Hailey. Hailey was a cute, outgoing and energetic little girl, Gabe's age, that was looking for a friend to play with. "Really?" I thought, with a smile.
"I just want to have a friend to play with." Hailey frowned.
"Hey,I have someone who would be a lot of fun to play with!" I turned to Gabe.
"This is Gabe and he loves to play." I looked at Gabe and I believe I saw a twinkle in his eye!

I prompted him to ask what her name was and it just went from there. I provided some guidance, sometimes for both of them on what and how to play together. They pretended to be cats as I fed them "treats", they chased each other, laughing and giggling. Gabe was so happy. I felt a glimmer of hope. Hope that we will be OK no matter what. And that's when I saw it....Gabe held her hand. He so very gently slide his little hand around hers and smiled. I got a lump in my throat, my little boy is growing up and he will be OK. Fantastic.

Hailey quickly pulled her hand away, not because she didn't appreciate the jester, but because she turned towards Gabe, said something, and they started running again...together.

Happy Holidays

2006-12-19T20:02:00.000-05:00

Happy Holidays!

I was a little flabbergasted for a minute there when blogger actually posted my picture. Kinda caught me off guard! (lol)

Can you believe we were all put on antibiotics with sinus infections the next day after this picture was taken? We felt a little under the weather, but wanted to get the picture done. We got one done and immediatley left. I think Gabe looks the best out of all of us! Although Boo is a very close second. She actaully broke out in a rash on her face the day before. We thought it was allergies and gave her benadryl (She gets Contact Dermatitis a lot), but it was a reaction to her sinus infection. She's such a trooper.

I am SO excited about Christmas this year. I just want to sing Rudolf from the roof tops. Having kids is the best!

Boo's Revisionist Take on History

2006-12-08T15:07:00.000-05:00

The other day Boo came home from school and declared that she was indeed in a school play.
Excited about our "up and coming" actress' part we asked, "What is the play about?"

She proudly stated, "Baby Jesus and the Ranger."

This is what immediatly came to my mind.

Baby Jesus

And the Ranger....

+

Number 1 and Number 2

2006-11-30T14:01:00.000-05:00

Okay, I have officially declared potty training as the most difficult parental job ever. What is it about this particular skill that makes it so much harder than other skills I would deam more challenging, like, let's say, nursing? Although nursing is supposed to be mostly "instictive" for babies(It was for Boo, but not Gabe) some of us moms know that it can be anything but easy, natural and fulfilling. What about jumping off the couch from the back arch, landing 3 feet away on an ottoman? That takes talent, timing and muscle control.Oh well.
This by no means is an invitation to opening the doors to having a forum discussion on the dynamics of toileting, really I get it.I do not want to spend any more time talking about how that area of the body works. But, why oh why, does it have to be like this?

Gabe is doing better than we thought, but not as great as we wished. Is he right on par with his peers? Some of the remaining ones he is, mostly the ones who are just too stubborn to be potty trained. Gabe enjoys the whole pottying experience and the amazing things his "mister" can do, but has a hard time distiguishing between what is peeing and what exactly pooping is, whatever I say, such details can be sorted out later. So when I mention the partial success I am having with Gabe, it makes my friends with an NT child close in age quickly start to potty train thier kids the following weekend.

Gabe is where Boo was at a year and a half of age. She was fully potty trained at 2 1/2 years old, with minimal guidance.

"This is a potty Boo. You poop and pee in it. Yeah!" The end.

However, she also did not have the wonder that we refer to as "mister" doing marvelous things when she urinated, but I digress. Gabe is able to use the potty every 40-50 minutes with a good success rate. He is having problems when he is feeling a little tired, especially in the afternoon and bowel movements are being reserved for the more quite, private, VIP rooms in our house. So, he is having quite a few accidents later in the day. But, he tells me when it happens and we follow through with our potty training plan called Postive Practice, based, as you may have guessed it, all on behavior. Rewarding the behavior we want and not emotionally reacting to the behavior we don't , but instead turning around and practicing the behavior we want again. I am a true believer in Behavioral Therapy. It works for Gabe. It really works for anyone wanting to change an undesirable behavior to one that is desirable, like quiting smoking, wanting to exercise more, have a more positive attitude, can all be shaped through changing your behavior. Cool concept that actually works.

So, here I am, not quite an outcast on potty island. The missile fire from "mister", combined with the defacing of NEMO on his underware has made some days more challenging than others. But, we will get there togther.

Ah Ha!!!..Errrr...What was I saying?

2006-11-28T20:31:00.000-05:00

I haven't posted in awhile, because I felt this overwhelming need to post only under a specific topic such as potty training, traveling with kids, or even a profound "Ah Ha!" moment shared with Gabe. But, life happened and the "Ah Ha" moments were celebrated and passed while mashed potatoes were being eaten and cooked carrots were being poked at, the lap top sitting ignored in another room.

Life just happened.

That's cool with me. But, then it's not. You see, I have a terrible memory, especially about the important moments. I am great about feeling the moment ( I will never foget how I felt when I first saw Boo and Gabe), but to remember the specifics get a little hazy over time. Here's an example, when Gabe was being diagnosed ASD, I was asked countless questions about Gabe and his developement that required specific dates.
Oh no.
I knew when he walked, how long he nursed for, but his first bite of food? Rolled over? First word spoken? Ahhh......hmmm......yikes, I could remember very little. I was lucky and for some reason ( Thank You God), I was incredibily meticulous about writing down everything about Gabe since his birth. Maybe it was the hormones.

Anyway....Wow..I really got off track. When I do not post, I feel like I am missing that great opportunity to hold on to at least a smidgen of wonderfulness that both children give me everyday that I would normally lose to maybe a grocery list or trying to remember what size shoe Gabe wears. (I'm rolling my eyes at myself). I still hold firm to the belief that all the sleep that I lost when both kids were really small made me a little senile and perhaps a little crazy.......

Now, where do I begin, what should I talk about? The fact that potty training has been happening for Gabe for the last two weeks? That he is playing with his peers exceptionally well? That shoes that have been peed on can only be washed so many times?
Oh!
What's that I hear?
The garage door is opening!
"Is that ice cream you're holding SD?"
YUMMY!
Okay. I gotta go.

A New Aspect Of Change

2006-11-05T20:21:00.000-05:00

Gabe had a blast this weekend throwing pennies in a few fountains at the mall, courtsey of the grandparents.
"Water!" Gabe points.
"It's cold," he holds himself and pretends to shiver. "Brrrrr!"
"It's purple,"he looks down at the colored tile under the water. "Wow,"he whispers.

Boo liked to try to get her pennies directly in the center of the fountain. "That's cool!" she exclaimed with excitement.

Fountains and change was the highlight. How simple is that? Maybe I just need to throw more wishes into a fountain.

On Sunday, we all go to church with our bag of toys and a few suckers. Church, to me, is a lot to ask of young children, let alone adults, especially my denomination. This is what I remember as a child about church, my butt hurting from the pews, dead animals draped over women's shoulders, music lacking passion, and someone who talked forever...and forever...and forever. The church aspect about faith is not important to me, although I wish that there was more of a sense of community, but that's another story. What's important to me is that my children live there lives knowing that God is there to guide, love and cherish them always. So, I smile when Boo sings along and Gabe dances in my arms and that is all I expect from them at church.

Boo and Gabe's favorite part of church is the offering. All the children in the church walk down the aisle to a wooden well. Surrounding it, each one watches as the money clanks around until it's gone.

Grandpa gave Boo a one dollar coin. Her eyes widen as she looked at it, turned to me and said,"I don't have a quater like this mommy!"
Gabe had one quater and one nickel and off they went. Normally, I let Boo guide Gabe down and back, but this time she was mesmerized by the beauty of her coin. So, I followed a few steps behind.

Down the aisle we went, both a few steps ahead. I was in a sea of people that only came up to my waist. They all look so cute in pretty dresses, ties, khakis, button down shirts and an occasional pair of glittery ruby red shoes from Target. Boo reaches the fountain, poised to make the drop, when I turn to see Gabe, not at the offering well, but B-lining to the baptism fountain. Arm raised, fist clenched full of change, he pulls back ready to throw his money into the "fountain". My eyes widen, jaw drops. My God! Is he going to throw his change in the baptism fountain? I run, in what feels like slow motion, trying, desperately to reach him. I am caught in the sea of little people! "Excuse me. Yes." smile,"Pardon me." Please God, I pray, not the baptism fountain!

Then the gasps from the first few rows of pews.

Thoughts like...How do you get change out of a sacred fountain? Would I just casually reach in and fish them out? It looks pretty deep, would I wade in? What do they do with contaminated baptism water? Would we be the reason for the implementation of a sign stating "Change does NOT belong in the baptism fountain. It is not a wishing well!"

I reach him mid wind up, quickly releasing the change from his grip. I swear I heard a sigh of relief from the crowd. I guide Gabe to the well, drop the money in and try to slink away with the well dressed little people.

Happy Halloween

2006-10-31T20:19:00.000-05:00

Gabe's wearing his Dinosaur...err...Crocodile costume!!!! Yahoooo! Candy is Gabe's ultimate reinforcer, besides Fritos.
Beautiful Boo is representing the magnificant and magical unicorn.

Shake it off

2006-10-29T05:54:00.000-05:00

I feel like a wet dog, stopping to shake off all the water from my coat. The anxiety about the future was keeping me from moving forward, my coat felt very heavy. Now, I just want to go and play. Maybe a good game of fetch, followed by a nice rest on a pillowy bed. Ahhhhhh. This dog's done with the days of mated, smelly coats. I can't promise I won't get wet again, but today is a new day and who knows what the future may bring? Gabe has proven to us again and again that the unbelievable is believable and a cookie is not just a cookie.

Check out THE CHUB FILES to see just how far Gabe has come.

Not Just "Nope" Anymore

2006-10-26T14:41:00.000-04:00

Today I was scared.
I haven't been this scared since Gabe's initial diagnosis. We have only until December 20th to get his noncompliance under control. After that it just me, no qualified therapists to manage the behavior at school. Twice monthly meetings with a Behavioral therapist and me the rest of the time.

For two hours this morning ,Gabe refused everything while at his ABA school. This is the same school with the same therapists that he has loved for over a year now. He would not comply with anything or anyone. There was screaming, crying, thrashing, restraining.....
As I watched threw a curtain, Gabe was removed to a private room to de-escalate, all I could think was, What can I sell that would enable him to come back to this program in Janurary? What am I willing to do to see that he is able to receive the therapy he needs to be able to work through his noncompliance successfully? My first thought was figure out a way to empty all of our retirement accounts, at a penalty of 34%. It still would not be enough. Then I looked down...and I noticed my wedding ring. What use is it to have something so beautiful resting on my finger while my son needs help so desperately? I started calculating what a pawn shop would give me. I tried to think of anythng else that we have of value....jewelery, antiques, bonds? My most valued possessons are my family. There isn't anything else.

So, that left SD's parents, whom we swore we would never ask for money again. Swallowing our pride, we accepted their money for this last semester and made that promise. I wondered if they would notice I no longer had a wedding ring? That all our accounts were empty? That Christmas this year would amount to presents to them, but none for us? I started to get resentful and angry, not just at them but the school system that would see this as a perfect opportunity to medicate Gabe's undesirable behavior, the insurance company happily shaking hands with Big Pharma while another "client" is sent their way and at myself for not being able to give my son everything he deserves. I was so beside myself that I could'nt cry. Our path had changed so rapidly before my eyes that I felt like a stunned deer standing like an ass in the middle of the road while head lights were coming closer and closer mumbling, "They're soooo perty!"

I'm scared, I'm lost and to top it all off, broke, not a dime in my pocket to make the changes that need to be made.

The Files Have Been Opened

2006-10-25T16:11:00.000-04:00

It is still a work in progress, but the following is a link to my other blog dedicated totally to Gabe.

The Chub Files

Let me know what you think. Thanks...

What Happened To Fall?

2006-10-22T07:26:00.000-04:00

This picture was taken fall 2005

It seems that every weekend this fall has been taken by bad weather or sickness. Rain and Boogers. We're anxious to get out and enjoy all the great things about fall, orchards, pumpkins, doughnuts, cider, apples, corn mazes, leaf piles, bugs, gardening.... Last weekend was nice, one of those days was spent cutting down two of our trees due to disease. What amazed me was that the tree that looked bigger was actually the smaller of the two. Boo and Gabe loved jumping from stump to stump. Our neighbors and us have lost five trees so far to this disease.

I wonder if today will be a better day to finally go get SD's pumpkin at the pumpkin patch? Boo, Gabe and I will be going to the Orchard to get ours this Friday. But, sadly, it sounds like the weather maybe raining and cold again. Gabe also has a cold with a wicked cough. It seems that now that he is older, the colds go straight to his chest. We use a nebulizer a few times a day. He has surprising raised his white flag and allows us to use it for five minutes on him every five hours. His breathing problems at birth may have finally caught up with him.

Wow, this post is as exciting as the weather outside!

There's just not much going on.

Hey! Over Here Super Daddy!

2006-10-15T14:50:00.000-04:00

A couple nights ago, while laying in bed, SD (Super Daddy) turned to me and said,

"So, next semester we will be putting Gabe into "Public School S" in the district I teach in?

I paused, "Ahhh....No."

"Really?" he answered surprised.

"I'm not touching a public school with a ten foot pole in regards to Gabe. Not gonna happen." I swiftly turn the page to my current Newsweek.

"Huh. How come?" he gently asks.

I must admit that the last time we discussed Gabe's educational future, we had come to the conclusion that "Public School S" would be beneficial. In the last few months, I have withdrawn even further away from the idea of public school.

So, I began with this, "Special Education is anything but special. It is not fair and it is not appropriate, in fact, it is hardly anything at all but a day care to drop your child off at while the district reaps the funding, leaving those children without adequate services or services at all. IEPs serve only to keep parents complacent with the idea that they are helping, when in fact, it is not a partnership. I refuse to be part of the charade." Then I got off my pedestal. (I don't mean to offend anyone with the decision they made regarding their child and the public school. This is just where I am at with the public school system of which we are forced to work with in Michigan.)

"OK. Sounds good. What are the plans then?" He looked over at me again.

I felt bad. How would he know what I had been thinking. He has always been supportive of my ideas, knowing I have spent many sleepless nights thinking about every possible solution. If only he had read some of the many blogs I read each day describing the struggles, feelings of hurt, disappointment and anger from parents after an IEP, letter from the teacher or administrator that dismisses not only them but their child with a blink of an eye. He would've known that I was no longer in the spot where I left him standing.

"After Gabe's ABA School ends at the end of December, I was thinking of continuing to send Gabe two days a week to his current private preschool that works specifically with speech impaired children. Three Days a week, we would continue Gabe's ABA Therapy at home with me teaching. He would also return to speech two days a week. We could do more enrichment activities, like storytime at the library, playing at the park and just spending time together. Gabe and I missed out on that due to his early diagnosis and early intense intervention with ABA Therapy. " I said looking back at SD.

He put his Harry Potter book down on his chest, and replied, "Sounds like the best plan for Gabe."

Thanks for meeting me over here SD. It's kinda like the furniture, you never know where it will be when you come home.

.

BeCalculatingBeStingy

2006-10-11T19:48:00.000-04:00

With all the facts in place, I have to admit that there is a slim chance we will be reimbursed. They have set so many road blocks. Each turn I took, they had meticulously laid a foundation that breeds failure for coverage. There was nothing that we could've done, not a referral, nothing, not one single thing that would have lead us to receiving coverage for ABA. Every path lead to the following roadblocks...

-No coverage for out of network mental health provider, referral or not. Has anyone found an in network ABA Therapist?

-Even if Gabe's school agreed to work with us and become an in network provider to work with BCBS's separate company (our great plan *sneer*, hands over all mental health claims and services to another company) it could take a year before they are considered in network, long after our claim has expired for reimbursement.

-Let's just say for agruement that hell froze over and BCBS reimbursed us for Gabe's ABA Therapy....The maximum we would get from our plan would be $2,000 per year out of the $24,000 that we have already spent this year alone.

- I found out who the mysterious case manager is....It's BCBS's solution to not having to deal with Mental Health Care. It is a company rather, that would work with the mysteriously unavailable in network provider that delivers ABA therapy services at a sweat shop pay rate. Where are those people?

-So, I thought I would then send Gabe to an in network psychologist that would refer him to an out of network psychologist (His current ABA therapist) and then happily receive my long over due rate of 90% unlimited services due to medical necessity and a happy stamp on my beautiful referral. Nope. My Mental Health Care Plan does not accept referrals for out of network doctors according to the service rep. The language in the contract is vague at best.

-BCBS.....You are sneaky. Those execs must be paid very well. How do they sleep at night knowing what they know?

That is to name only a few of the sordid tidbits left for us to pull our hair out on.

Where do we go from here?

- New plan.....New focus - Can't say what...but it's juicy. Will it work..not sure, but it's worth a try

- What's funny..not so much in a "HaHa" way, but more in the pinch the cheek and say sweetly, "You're so silly BCBS!" As parents, we will invest all we have in our children, no matter the cost or time. This whole appeal doesn't put me out, it's such a small thing on my to do list, but it's there and my child matters. That's where they fail....our love and dedication will surpass their need to draw out appeals, send irritating letters, because in the end I still have the drive to do what's best for my child and they will have even more parents like me cramming their faxes with paperwork. So there....

- I know I am right. Everything I believe about what I am doing is right. I don't need an insurance company to validate what I already know is valid. I have already won.

Just a few thoughts for today....

Just A Few Words Before I Can Peacefully Start My Weekend

2006-10-06T15:43:00.000-04:00

Autism is not a mental health disorder.

Say it with me BCBS.....

Neurobiological...

Good...

And again...

Neurobiological

AGAIN!

Maybe with some more practice.

Why do we have to pass a law that would state the obvious?

Who Are You?

2006-09-28T14:25:00.000-04:00

I never put too much thought into "when were you born" psychoanalysis, but then I came across this site and ...wow

Your Birthdate: March 28
You have a Type A personality so big it makes other Type A's shrink away in shame.(I am Type A, but not that big)
You never shy away from adversity - and you love to tackle impossible problems. (True)
Failure is not an option for you, and more than a few people are put off by your ego. (True for #1 and Yikes! for #2)
You tend to be controlling, and you hate leaving anything up to chance. (Sometimes..more of myself than others....I strive for perfection, BUT only in certain things. The rest is normal, I swear.)
Your strength: Your bold approach to life (True )
Your weakness: You don't accept help (True, but has changed considerably since Gabe's diagnosis)
Your power color: Bronze (Really?)
Your power symbol: Pyramid (Huh..)
Your power month: October (I love fall)

What about you?
Go see at.....
http://www.blogthings.com/whatdoesyourbirthdatemeanquiz/

Thanks for the cool site Karmyn at Dreaming What Ifs...(http://klraisldreamings.blogspot.com/)

So Not Surprised

2006-09-27T20:30:00.000-04:00

Got the call from BCBS.....Denied.

I would love to go into the details, but am choosing not to until the claim is settled. I am waiting for the official written reason for the claim being denied, sometime this week. Then, on to the appeal.

Bring it on.

One Ticket Please... To Crazy Town

2006-09-24T19:42:00.000-04:00

These past few weeks I have been busy, very busy. Almost as if I was a squirrel gathering and burying nuts, building a nest that will ensure a safe journey through winter and of course, putting on my winter fat. Except, I'm obviously not a squirrel, but my gathering and burying could be compared to my constant faxing and phone calls to our insurance company and doctors, my nest is always challenged by my growing children and well, my winter bulge happens to mysteriously appear during very stressful times. Ice cream is at a premium, but my daughters birthday cake has leapt into 1st place as a necessary sedative at the end of the day. Where is the end? I am anxious to get there, nuts or no nuts. I need an end.

My claim has now passed through to the fourth level in my insurance company. It was passed from the customer service agent to the auditor, to the team of managers and now to the Medical Advisory Commission. It has take an entire month to know.....absolutely nothing. One thing I know is that out of all 6 doctors documenting in their evaluation that Gabe should receive at least 25 hours a week ABA therapy, half in network from a neurologist, pediatrician, doctor from a leading university, that they, BCBS, are trying to find a loophole in the one doctor's BCBS's out of network referral. Ah yes......that damn referral. You think you have got all your ducks in a row, turn your back and one looks cross eyed and an amazing amount of money goes out the door, not in your direction. I thought my parents expectation of being perfect was daunting....

So, I am waiting for the Medical Advisory Commission to rule on it and I should know by Thursday. I know it will be no and ...That's OK. I am already 4 steps ahead and am planning my appeal to the State of Michigan, who will be the "outside party" who evaluates appealed claims outside of insurance companies. BCBS will say no about three times, me appealing each time, then a new slate and a new appeal occurs with the state, hopefully in a couple months. I kinda want them to say no, just so I can make a point. So, my son and I can be heard in a forum not swayed by the insurance company and their shareholders. I just have to hope that the person that evaluates our claim from the state did not attain their job placement due to a shake of the hand with BCBS. Who knows? We're crossing our fingers, toes, legs, arms....cats legs.....you get the picture.

Meanwhile.........Gabe has been talking even more. His tone at times is "normal". Normal!!! I wish I could post a UTube short movie showing Gabe's high pitched talking. It is the one thing that really makes him stand out. It's common that children with speech difficulties that see a female speech therapist to mimic the tone that their therapist uses, especially if they are Autistic. Gabe is very literal, he will repeat something exactly as you said it. If I say it high, he says it high, low he low. BUT, now he seems to be finding his voice. It mostly comes out when he is mad at me. Here's an example, I was upstairs the other day grabbing something before taking both kids to school, and I hear Boo yell, "GABEY HAS EGGS!!!!GABEY HAS EGGS!!!"
"Eggs?"I thought to myself.....like the plastic Easter eggs? Surely not.......
As soon as the thought crossed my mind I was already at the bottom of the stairs starring at Gabe , who was sitting at the kitchen table carton of eggs in front of him.
"Eggs." He smiled at me.
"Oh no, Gabey we do not play with eggs sweetie." I take them and put them in the fridge. He has never done this before and what is the deal with eggs? What exactly was he going to do with them?
"EGGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!EGGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He screams, tears in eyes.
I turn off the TV in order to direct him into the other room with Boo and away from the fridge.
"MOMMY! I WATCH BIG RED DOG!"
Clear as day.....perfect variation of tone. I stopped dead in my tracks.
"It's on in the other room." I say stunned.
He gets down off his chair runs in the other room.

I just heard my son.

It's hard to explain what it feels like to hear or see a glimpse of your child within their disability (Gabe's speech). It's the same beautiful view that you see everyday with them, but right there, to the left, you see the most amazing rainbow. That's the only way I can describe it.

My First Fax

2006-09-09T19:49:00.000-04:00

I faxed 15 pages of "referrals for ABA Therapy" from 5 doctors in and out of network dating from the day that Gabe was diagnosed March of 2005 to an associate at BCBS. When I called to confirm this associate had received the fax, I was met with a surprised tone in his voice. I then came to the conclusion that he had definately underestimated me.

Stay tuned for the "Plan B" referral, detailed explanation of the code used for treatment that BCBS provide (Again, "Why do you provide codes that you don't know what they mean? If they are too vague, maybe you need to create some more specific codes for doctors to use."), my 2nd Fax experience (Yippeee!) and (Oh Yes!) The Preauthorization Request!

"Oh! Get out!...My life is so much more exciting than yours!"

Personal Pronouns are awesome

2006-09-04T20:29:00.000-04:00

After going to see our pediatrician, I normally stop at Burger King for small fries (wheat free) for Boo and Gabe. Saturday we had an appointment, because of a cough Gabe had. SD and I decided to go to a park instead since it was too early for fries."Let's go to the park!" we cheered.

"Want French Fry"(pause)

"Go McDonalds"(pause)

"Eat their food"(pause)

Eat their food? THEIR! Did I hear a THEIR?!

Gimmie a "T"...Gimmie a "H".....Gimmie an "E" ......Gimmie an "I"....and an "R"

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH Gabe!!!!!

Wow.

BCBS

2006-08-31T21:57:00.000-04:00

Do you have a referral from your doctor?
I don't need a referral with my program.
Oh, but you do.
Like a referral off of his notepad?
No. It is a special referral form that BCBS needs that is filled out by your doctor stating that they are referring you to an out of network doctor.
No one has mentioned this to me before and I have been calling customer service for over a year now about this particular doctor.
Did you read your handbook?
I asked before for BCBS to send me any information that they found would be helpful to me concerning my circumstances and they said that there wasn't any.
Well, we can still get the referral written.
What will it do?
It will cover 90% of your costs to this out of network provider.
90%??????!!!!!!!
90% of the $10,000 we have already spent???!!!!!
Well.....not exactly.
Huh?
It would start from the day that the referral is written and can not be retro active.
I almost threw up.

God help the next person who says this to me...

2006-08-31T21:18:00.000-04:00

I'm calling to see what services you offer for children with ASD?
That depends on what they need.
OK.....
What do you typically offer?
What does your child need?
Okaaaay........(Do I Insert the magic word here?)
What services do parents who have a child under the age of five with ASD typically receive through your program?
It depends on what they need.
What about_________?
No.
What about________?
No.
Alright.....(MUST guess better)
What about________?
No.
What about________?
No.
What about________?
No.
You do help children with ASD..right?
It depends on what services your child needs.
I see that you do intakes. Can I bring my child in for an intake and discuss possible services then?
Yes.
(Huh. I gotta "yes".)
We have this date open.
That sounds good..
But, we'll have to call you to see if she will be in that day.
Huh?
Your scheduling an appointment on a day that you do not know is actually available?
She'll call you in a few weeks to confirm.
Really?A couple weeks?

Yah...
Huh..
Okaaay....
I'll have to call back later.

Gotta love those agencies that claim to help children with their clever use of double talk and underlying tone of we really don't care.

Flip, Flop, Flip, Flop, Flip, Flop

2006-08-25T19:48:00.000-04:00

I know summer is almost over and you would

even be pressed to find one, dirty, lone, sad flip flop at Target,

However.......

in our household, this is a momentous occasion!

Gabe has mastered the art of flipping and flopping! The click and clack of this strange beach attire. He can maneuver without shuffling, snap it against his heel, and even travel two houses over from ours for a birthday party.

I was beaming with pride today. No more nice leather (Are they? Or is pleather?)sandals getting ruined by wet sand and lake stink. Here we come flipping and flopping as a family. To conquer the beach without sacrificing good foot wear!

There was only one incident at the birthday party, well two, but one was not a big deal the other was kinda funny.

The first is Gabe trying to connect with other children (Not a big deal, just one we are working on). While sitting at a small kids size picnic table, Gabe pulled up his shirt and moved next to the boy his age, saying in a high pitched voice..."Tiggga..Tigga.." ,which translated without the excitement was "Tickle, Tickle". The boy Gabe's age turned, looked briefly at him and I swear I saw him murmur to himself," There's no place like home....there's no place like home." Personal space is sometimes an issue with Gabe.

After the swimming in the baby pools, running through the slip and slide and having a blast, it was time to wrap it up and go in and open presents.

BUT, Gabe would not get dressed. I totally understood his need to want to stay outside, I mean, who really wants to watch someone else open up gifts of cool toys that you can't even play with? But, since Gabe's school is on vacation and he is home more, I have been extra vigilant at following through. Without his normal schedule, he has been testing boundaries. So, I said that he had to get dressed or we would go home.

Still no clothes on.

I let the moms there know that Boo was staying and I would pick her up soon, but Gabe would have to go home. The moms nodded with understanding and a look of May the God of dressed children be with you and I picked up Gabe and began the walk towards our house when I hear....

"(Boo) SAVE ME!"

"HELP ME (Boo)!"

"SAVE ME!" Gabe is shouting as if I am taking him to the guillotine and Boo is the only person who can pardon him from this terrible fate.

Incredible. This is actually a game we play with the kids where we pretend to "capture" Boo and Gabe and one of them has to save the other. Let's just take this moment and applaud Gabe's remarkable skills for generalizing what he learns.

Needless to say, while sitting on the front porch steps, Gabe gets dressed and we return to the party where he gets to hit his first Pinata.

Another amazing day.

The New Fall Fashion

2006-08-18T16:06:00.000-04:00

"PRETTY-FUL PINK!" says Gabe.

In his PJ hand-me-down pants from Boo.

Does anyone else hear "We Are The Champions" in the background?

Being Gabe's Big Sister

2006-08-13T19:34:00.000-04:00

At the playground today, Boo was surrounded yet again by a new fan club. She is such a social butterfly. I asked her once if she had ever played with anyone she didn't like, she responded with, "I like everybody Mommy." She has the purest soul I know. I wish someone like her had been around when I was growing up. She would've been the friend I had always wished for.

As the group of four began planning who was going to be the baby dog, momma dog etc., Gabe spots Boo with her friends and starts on foot in her direction.
"Hi (Boo)!" he waves then sits with the group.
I hover near, but out of sight. I want to see him in a true social setting unaffected by my intervening.
"Hey!" the oldest girl shouts,"This is only for girls!"
Then Gabe smiles at her.
"Ok," she melts a little," maybe he can be the daddy dog."
Then she approaches him. I wonder how this is going to pan out. Will he "hear" her or tune her out as someone that is not typically in his frequency.
"Hey! she walks up beside him. "You can be the Daddy dog."
No response. She's right there next to him. Gabe has his face situated next her and to the pipe that you speak into,echoing out somewhere else in the playground.
Say something Gabe!

"YOU CAN BE THE DADDY DOG!" She shouts.

Still nothing.
My stomach turns.
I put on my cape and fly in from nowhere.
"Hey Gabe! She wants to know if you want to be a daddy dog?" I turn him to face her.
Nothing. Then he smiles and runs away.
"I guess not, maybe later," I laugh.
The girls shrug it off and so do I. Practice..that's what it is all about...

About an hour later, the girls have themselves playing dog again under the slides and Gabe decides to run over and say "Hello" to Boo.
"It's daddy dog!" the leader of the group declares. Ready to include him, Gabe turns and walks away after his greeting.
"That's my brother," Boo says.
"That's your brother?" the leader questions.
"Yeah. He doesn't understand," Boo explains.

He doesn't understand. My heart sank. What did Boo mean by that? Does she know? Can she tell? Is it all making sense to her now? The long meetings, Gabe's school, all the speech therapy, not answering all the time?

Before SD put Boo to bed tonight, I asked her for a hug as we watched Gabe's speech tape. Every week I watch two 30 minute taped sessions of Gabe at speech with Dr. Karen. I told her about how Dr. Karen helps Gabe learn to talk.
"Look Boo, Gabe doesn't get the ball [to the toy] until he uses his words to ask for it ."
"Now he is practicing saying long words," I smile so proud of him.
"Co...co..nut" I practice with Gabe on the tape.
"You say it," I encourage her.
"Co..co..nut!" she pronounces perfectly.
"Good job!"

The tape starts to come to a close and I turn to Boo.
"Boo," I pause and I pause again. I can't seem to find the words. They have escaped me. I take a deep breath and begin.
"Boo, do you notice anything different about Gabe?"
"No." she replies sincerely looking up at me.
Should I push it? My heart starts to race. Should I just let her continue believing and treating Gabe as though there isn't any difference between them. That all three year olds squeak instead of talking sometimes?
It's what I want...Isn't it?

"Really?" It stumbles right out of my mouth.
"You don't notice any differences between you and Gabe?"
"Well......" she pauses and looks down.
She knows.
She's been hiding it.
How could I have not seen it?

"Well....," she continues, "I know that Gabe is a boy and I am a girl."

What?

"That's true Boo. Gabe is a boy and you're a girl." I hug her and leave it at that.

Holy Language Explosion Batman!

2006-08-12T18:07:00.000-04:00

"Daddy's going to put batteries in your toy Gabe."
"What are you doing?" GABE asked.

"I hear an airplane!" GABE said.

While putting Aquaphor on Gabe's face before bed, due to an outbreak of excema, I heard the following...
"In bed Mommy."
"Read Thomas!"
"Get in bed"
"OK, all done," I say. "Let's get in bed."
"In bed, read Thomas!"

Leaving the room after getting the low battery window from my lap top I hear...

"Where are you going Mommy?"

Gabe was bouncing on SD's lap pretty agressively, so SD pretended to cry and we hear....

"Daddy, you OK? You need a hug?"

"(Boo), have a pig?" Gabe asked when wanting to play with one of her plastic pig figures.

"Daddy, excuse me, I have Poo Poo." And he did!!!!

Incredible. What's happening? Why is all this glorious and spectacular language happening now? Is it the weather? Age? All the practice and therapy?

All I can say is........ WHO CARES!!!!!...... I LOVE IT!!!!!

For those of you new to this blog, Gabe was completely nonverbal, noncommunicative just over a year ago. There wasn't some miracle cure, just hard work, a great speech therapist, and many ABA therapists that are wonderful. Amazing....

HOORAY for GABE!

I keep thinking he must feel like shouting..."They finally GET what I am saying!"

We do. We really do :o)

The magnificent bubble

2006-08-09T20:30:00.000-04:00

Driving to school this morning, about 5 miles away, Gabe declares, "See bubbles!"
I look out the window and see trees whiz by, blurred along with an occasional car driving faster. What could he be seeing?
"Bubbles?" I ask. "Where? I don't see them."
"Bubbles in car!"Gabe answers excitedly.
"Really?" "Huh." Still not seeing it. We have had a lot of that with Gabe lately. I figure we are missing about 50% of his language, because the words have become clues, encrypted by another program we are not familiar with. SD catches more of what Gabe is saying than I do. It's a gift I believe.
Seeing that I am struggling with his request, Gabe decides to expand, "Blow bubbles mommy!"
"Oh!" I look back and he is smacking his lips together, imitating me chewing my gum.
"Do you want me to blow bubbles with my gum?" I turn and smile at him in the back seat.
"Yes!" he agrees doing the happy butt dance.
So the bubble blowing began. Bubble after bubble we laughed. We chuckled at the ones that found solace in sticking to my lips and cheeks. Wowed in amazement at the bubbles that wanted to grow until they were stretched so thin, you wondered if the gum would just simply disappear. I blew and blew, loving every second I was having with him, connecting, bonding, embracing the wonder.

Finally

2006-08-07T11:55:00.000-04:00

We're back and we are exhausted! What a weekend. It was filled to the brim with fun, fun and more fun! There was now a cool slide for the pool and the two completely exhausted themselves on it. I think this picture was taken the night after the many hours of swimming that day. Can you see the Cars from the BK kids meals? Gabe loves them. I may have to Ebay for the rest of the crew. The fish pillow next to him is one of those pillows that are really soft and squishy. It was his favorite present this year for his birthday. I found that he really liked them after he kidnapped SD's mom's pillow that she used for long car rides. He couldn't help but snuggle with it. Gabe has slept with this fish every night.

This is the slide with beautiful Boo ready to take the plunge. Amazing huh? Grandparents really get the whole fun thing. Sometimes so much, that our kids do not want to go home with us when it is time to leave. Who would blame them? Boo is trying to convince us that we need a pool like grandma and grandpa. Our backyard slopes way down into the woods. We've tried to explain that you need a flat area for a pool and most importantly, no flesh eating mosquitoes. This obstacle did not waiver our determined daughter, because she said, "How about the front yard?"
"That would be interesting," I replied.
I guess if the neighbor can park his Trans Am in his front yard, why not? Now how to explain to Boo that pools do not come in pink?

This past weekend, I attended my first WrightsLaw Conference in Kentucky. It took about two hours from SD's parent's house to get there, starting my day at 5:15AM. Yaaawn. I found Peter Wright very engaging. I also liked that he was a lawyer and presented his seminar that way. Some parents, including myself, tend to try to see the facts through the emotion. Thus, making our perception of things skewed. Peter Wright lays it all out there, by fact only. What works and what doesn't. It's really not about who's right (Do you want to win the fight, but lose the battle?), but how to get your child what he/she needs based on indisputable facts and proof. He has no time for I'm right, you're wrong. That won't get your child what they need and could damage the relationship between you and the school.

Here is an example...
I met Mr. Wright after the conference ended. I had only one question that I needed answered. I had, after more than a year, gotten it down to one pet peeve about the district.
I asked, "Can the school district choose to disagree with 7 reputable doctors' diagnosis of Autistic Spectrum Disorder for my son?"
He replied," Is he getting services?"
"Yes, but.....His diagnosis guides his services. Being Autistic is the reason his speech and social abilities are affected." At my core I believed this to be true.
"Listen," he responded in a very matter a fact way. The lawyer had come to surface. "It's not about the label. You can fight and fight them on this, but is it really about the label?"
"Doesn't the label drive the services?" I said wavering.
"No. YOU do. You provide the information and reasons for the services he needs. A label doesn't get you what you need. Facts, proof and understanding about your son is what will guide the process."
"Oh, " I replied sheepishly, "Thanks for your help."
I walked away.
I walked away relieved. Relieved that I could leave this battle with Autism and focus on my son. He is much more than a label. I happily dropped my war plan against our district in the trash on the way out.
Relieved.
Finally.
It's amazing how one person can change your mindset.
I feel am getting closer to understanding what an IEP is really about.

Things To Consider for Fuzzy Footed Travelers

2006-08-02T21:08:00.000-04:00

Upon viewing The Lord Of The Ring Trilogy for the 6th time , SD and I feel the need to remark on the following...

1. When traveling to Mount Doom, remember chapstick and apply often

2. Elven women do not look good when possessed by the ring.

3. Doomback Mountain, the untold story of Frodo and Sam

4. Pip and Merry remind me of the two people at the party that never left the Keg

5. Rivendell puts Boo's Barbie dream house to shame

6. The Mouth of Saruman had some serious periodontal disease

7. Sauron does resemble a certain part of the female anatomy

8. Oh, what an ending! Oh, it's ending now...now? There are four endings to this trilogy. By the time it finally did end, I was disappointed, because it seemed like it was never going to end.

9. How could Denethor not love his son, Faramir? He was smokin! (Obviously, not one SD wanted to point out and we do know about him being under Sauron's power)

10. Frodo's Orc armor made him look like Gonzo from the Muppets

11. Where is my huge eagle and butterfly friend when I need to get away?

12. Horn blowing = good, loud drumming =bad

13. Bring marshmallows when lighting signal fires

14. Gollum would not fair well as a Chippendale

And Finally...

I love my wedding ring, but when I hold it, I , unfortunately, am not blessed with the orgasmic look that Frodo gets when he holds his ring.

What's a perfect fit?

2006-08-01T13:33:00.000-04:00

I used to believe that Old Navy perfect fit T-shirts were my perfect fit. Each one looked good with any short, pant or even casual skirt I picked out that day. How wonderful it was to go to a store knowing they had what I needed. No rack scavenging, dressing room drama or sad shuffling feet leaving the store empty handed. They fit me and I fit them.

Our preschool search still continues. I keep asking myself, "What is Gabe's perfect fit?
Does the program offer enough social interactions with other peers? Is part of that time guided by a teacher? How do they handle transitions? The list for perfect goes on and on. Where do I draw the line? What do I sacrifice from that list. Some things are obviously really important, such as having the necessary black T-shirt in your closet, while others I can substitute or even go without for a season. But, which ones do I chose? What if what I choose happens to not be in fashion that season? What if I am pushed off the runway? What if the decisions I make for Gabe affect his progress? Like gawkers watching in horror at my ineptness to dress myself.

I know about One day at a time or Let go and let God. Easy to meditate on such words when time is not a factor. Spots are being filled, evaluations are being conducted and our options are narrowing. If I didn't know better, I would say that even Old Navy is slowly taking the blessed short sleeve shirts to the back and replacing them with the thin, easy to see tummy rolls, I love Spain T-shirts. No one my stature wants to be seen in those.

I do know that it takes time to get used to new clothes, new ideas, new places. I just hope that Gabe's closet will be full of great opportunities, learning experiences and love.

It's happened!!!!

2006-07-30T18:49:00.001-04:00

I'M OVER A THOUSAND!!!!!!

1011 people took the time to look at my profile!!!
Now if that isn't a good reason to celebrate with ice cream I do not know what is :o)

Now if only I could reach #1 in the stats in our ring, SD will get a big steak dinner and I will enjoy some King Crab. I think he will be waiting a Loooooooong time! lol There are some big shoes to fill that far up the stats.

Definition of an addict

2006-07-30T15:56:00.000-04:00

So, I am still amazed at our society's obsession with the peanut and the butter that is made from it. It reminds me of an addict and nicotine. Kinda scary...at least I think so. What's scary is that my thinking seems to be in the minority. All I'm asking for is 7 hours out of a school day to be peanut free. That leaves 17 hours of peanut eating time all to yourselves.
Death.... peanut butter (hands weighing)......Death?..... peanut butter?...DEATH?...peanut butter?.
I think I could consider that a challenge in life.
A peanut allergy is considered a disability under the Americans with Disabilties Act.

All right. I'm finally letting it go.....

I just can't do it..I can't and I won't

2006-07-29T11:54:00.000-04:00

Gabe's not going to our public school.
Period.
At least not now. Not today or this year.
I can't fight the fight.
Not while my child is left in the arms of the ignorant and
uneducated, overworked and uncaring staff at the public school he would attend.
I can't be "the one" to make a change in our district.
It is a title too weighted by circumstance, timing and dumb luck.
Not at my child's expense.
Kindergarten will be the year that we approach our district again.
I will be much wiser.
Gabe will officially be in his "home school" and the team of people we will be working with will be different.
New school, new teacher, new speech, new OT, new PT. If we're lucky, new director of special education (early retirement, job change???)
Just different.
A smudged, yet cleared slate for our district and us to try again.
We just have devoted the last year unequivocally to Gabe.
I can not and will not enable their "program" to create an atmosphere for regression.
Sleepless nights that lead into pavement pounding days have provided new light and possibilities outside of our district for preschool.
My anxiety seems to be lifting.
We still have to notify our district of our decision and get our ducks in a row at his new school.
The cost is only a little more than a regular preschool.
We have decided to continue ABA therapy at home mostly by me and an occasional therapist.
We also decided to pull him from the current ABA school after this semester ends.
It is just too difficult to make the best decisions for Gabe while you are under someone's thumb (SD's parent's have felt more comfortable with sharing their, not so positive and often argumentative,opinions about our choices for Gabe).
Just some paperwork paired with fresh ideas and our outlook and future for Gabe seems brighter.
The day that he goes to his new preschool now brings images of standing by the planter outside for his first day of school picture, lunchbox in hand and a smile on my face.