Guilty

Right now I'm sitting in my kitchen, feeling a little guilty. And it's because of my yard. Well, I also haven't walked the dog yet, and the house is a disaster, but one guilty step at a time.

My yard looks fantastic. It's green and lush and full of blooming flowers. We are fortunate to have a cool backyard. It's not huge, but it's big enough to run around in, or sit in the back of. There are tons of plants that I had nothing to do with because they were here when we moved in. Whats cool about it is that it's not totally uniform. There is grass in the middle that winds it's way around both sides and snake around the corners. There is a rounded bed next to our back deck that is full of a lot of plants and flowers going wild in a semi-controlled sort of way.There are more wild beds around most of the edges of the wild. So the green grass is thin in the middle, like a bone and bulbs out on the ends to the sides of the house. There is as much planted area as grass. And the grass looks fine because it's cut, but not because we do anything else to it.We are just not that into grass. We have some nice trees for shade, and some raised beds for vegetables. It has just been mulched, and though I hate the smell, the look is great.

The front is similar, in that there is some fine-looking grass, surrounded by rounded beds in the middle and in various round shapes around the perimeter. And again with some nice trees. The difference is that we have put some time into adding plants and flowers in the front. The back just didn't need it. It's all pretty picture perfect.

The problem is that I didn't have a thing to do with it. I didn't mow the grass. I didn't edge the beds. I didn't spread the mulch. Which is where the guilt comes in. Because I sort of pride myself on being a gardener, a play in the dirt and take care of the plants kind of a girl. Now, we also think it's important to have a once a year clean-up done by a landscaper, to get us going, and then we can do the maintenance for the rest of the summer. And that's what this was. But I still have guilt that it all looks so beautiful, and I, I didn't do any of it.

UPDATE:  Later the same day...we went to our local farm/farmer's market to get fresh local strawberries and smoothies (we've been sick and the smoothies sounded good on our throats). We also went to get plants for a big pot up front and a hanging pot. These, I will do myself. Found some plants for the big pot out front, and some bee balm, and fox glove for the yard (haven't had fox glove since Alaska), but no hanging plants yet. I have found over the past few years that I really enjoy arranging annuals in our big pots that sit out front. And I've done some that are great (and some just ok), so I'm always chasing the dragon for that perfect arrangement. I'll post a picture when I get her done.

Trying it on for size

I've been thinking of blogging. Dreaming of it, even. I think of posts when I walk the dog, when I read a good article, when I am frustrated with a situation in my life. I need an outlet. In the past, I think I have been scared to be too honest. I have limited the scope of my writing to protect myself, and my family. And I think a certain amount of discretion, or privacy is appropriate. But, I think being more honest and more open, gives me a lot more to write about. And my life is so full. There is a lot beyond having a son with autism. And while my life is certainly not miserable, I have been struggling with some things. And I think writing about them will help me process them and figure them out. Sometimes thoughts and feelings evolve through moments in life, through conversations, through time...

And I have been taking some time. But, one thing I hate is people who are enthusiastically happy, ALL THE TIME. I like positive people, but not the people who don't seem real because everything is always perfect and sunny. I don't believe them. I like the funny, sarcastic, melancholy folks a bit more. I like a friend I can gripe with and laugh with. Who will complain about her kid, or mock a silly parenting situation. And while I don't think I have presented myself as one of those crazy happy people, I have been careful about what side of myself I have shown. I think now, that showing some other sides of myself, particularly maybe the ones that make me nervous, or that I'm not so proud of will be, eventually, freeing. Kind of a relief. This is my new self medicating therapy plan. What do you think?

What goes up must come down

Sam is doing so well overall, and especially lately, that we were bound to hit a road bump. I'm surprised that I was so surprised by it. Sunday afternoon we went to Dunvegan Farm to check out a possible horseback riding scenario for Sam. I had chatted with one of the owners, who also lives on the property. They rescue horses, ponies and miniature donkeys, and do riding lessons with inner city kids, and other kids at risk for lack of opportunity who are surviving a tough life. The setting was ideal, in that although the farm is not specifically set up to work with kids with autism, Allison was open to it, and really wanted to meet the four of us.

We arrived in the late afternoon, and the kids barreled out of the car. We could easily see the horse barn and the donkey pen, as well as some chickens. I managed to find my way up to the house and introduced myself to Allison, and introduced Allison to us. I guess what I was so shocked by, which in retrospect I should have expected, was how out of control Sam seemed. Like the Sam from a couple of years ago, he ran all over, neither listening to us, nor having any real focus. After I had explained how much Sam loved horses to Allison on the phone, I was almost embarrassed by his seeming disinterest in them when she tried to show us around the horse barn. The running wildly and not listening continued throughout the visit. We did get a chance to talk to Allison, who was very calm, not at all phased, and mostly interested in learning about Sam, and thinking about what we could do to interest him and focus him. Max got to lead a sweet old horse named Abe out to the grass to eat, and the boys had lots of fun jumping on, and "riding" the vaulting equipment. There were baby ducks, and a zen goldfish pond, complete with calming Buddha statue(s).

Though Matt and I were moderately stressed by Sam's behavior, Allison couldn't have been lovelier or more open to the ramblings of our wild family. We agreed to meet again in two weeks, and she said she would think on a structure for Sam's visits, and tasks that would lead to rewards, so he would know what to expect. I think she envisioned him working up to riding by caring for the animals, which sounded great to us.

We adults discussed how it was a new place for him, and how, come to think of it, it often took him some time in a new situation to get used to the space before he could focus on what was expected of him. Thinking later, I realized that instead of it being the old Sam, it was the new Sam, in a new situation. We had widened his world so much, incorporating and making him comfortable with so many new situations and experiences, that we forgot what it was like when something was new for him. We expanded his life to the point where a whole host of things is normal and a part of his repertoire. He can go to the grocery store, go for a family hike, go swimming at the beach, get a haircut, go to the toy store, go out to eat, go on family vacations, and ride his scooter up and down our street without accompaniment (but still with close supervision). Going to the farm was level of freedom and lack of structure in a new setting that he hasn't experienced in a while.

The experience was successful for a couple of reasons. In our way of thinking, it was good for Allison to see Sam at his worst, because it could only go up from there. It also allowed us to see how far he has come, how high our expectations are for him now. And lastly, it reminded us that there is always work to be done with our boy. That things still don't come easily to him, and that new things take time for him to get used to and adjust accordingly.

All I know is that today was a good day for Sam at school, and he scooted up and down our street this afternoon. He did go around the corner to an adjoining street, but was easily convinced to come back. He balked at getting his nails cut (and that is putting it mildly) and reading aloud before reading to himself in bed, but he did both. And he was happy.

The night I outed myself to the PTO

Tonight I attended an end of the year PTO get together from Sam's school. The program Sam participates in is housed in a different elementary school from where we are districted for, so he and Max will go to different public schools in the same town.

Anyway, we hung out, ordered drinks and food, and then there was a short presentation to thank the PTO board members and coordinators. After the presentation of gifts and the responses, we had an impromptu discussion about volunteering, and how to get more people to be active in the PTO, and by extension in their children's school. A couple of people mentioned ideas for why people didn't volunteer and suggestions for how to overcome those obstacles.

I thought for a while during the conversation about why I was at the dinner, how I had participated in this year's PTO activities, and what kept me from volunteering more of my time. I thought for a while about how I was different from the other parents there, and about pulling the PTO Chair aside afterwards and sharing my thoughts privately. She had been nice to me and had been welcoming at the BBQ for Teacher Appreciation Week I had helped out with a few weeks ago.

And I listened to these women, who sounded as if they really cared about their children school, the Parent Teacher Organization, and how to make it better and more inclusive. These were smart women, who seemed to have a certain amount of empathy and emotional maturity. In some ways, they didn't seem that different for me. And I opened my mouth, and I used my voice.

I told them about my disconnect. About how I felt different from the other parents at school, because I have a child with special needs. About how I felt that my parenting experience had been so different from theirs. About how I managed children in two different schools, in three different classrooms (Max's class, Sam's typical 2nd grade class, and his sub-separate classroom.) About how it was hard to participate in an activity if it was something that my child couldn't participate in for whatever reason. About how his sub-separate classroom didn't have it's door decorated for teacher appreciation week (at least six teachers). About how I didn't know most of the parents in Sam's "typical" 2nd grade class, and how I only recently stopped crying at teacher conferences.

I explained how when I do participate, I have to explain how my child is different. Why I live in another district and have a younger child at a different school. About how thankful I am to have this kind of program in my town and in one of our public elementary schools.

I think the principal was there. I think they all listened. I know that the five moms told me then and approached me shortly after we concluded to let me know that they didn't know that I had a child with autism until I told them; that they didn't know that their school had a program like Sam's with a sub-separate classroom; that their child was in Sam's class and that they knew of Sam but didn't know he had autism; that they wanted to introduce themselves to me; and that they felt disconnected too, for various reasons.

I left feeling a little lighter. The night went differently than I imagined, but I'm pleased that I went. Pleased that I participated in the organization, and pleased that I shared my thoughts. The funny thing is, as you know from my last post, I feel so much better generally. Sam is so much better. Our lives are good and full and both kids are progressing rapidly. I think that being in this place that we are in now, were we love our boys and we look forward to the future, also involves some public outing. Of who we are and where we came from. It involves having a voice and using it, in a way that works for us.

He is so different

When I started this blog, I was looking for a space to share my feelings about living with my autistic son. I soon evolved into discussing his younger brother, and other things that interested me, but living with and parenting a child with a developmental disability was still the focus. When I look back, even a year ago, I am amazed at the change, in my son, my family and my life.

What has changed? (How big?) So much (So big!) ! Sam is still autistic, but he is older, and with his growth and accomplishments have come change for all of us. For example, when we moved here almost three years ago, we installed a fence around our yard and codelocks on both sides of all of the doors, for security. And by security, I meant the peace of mind of knowing that Sam could not escape and get hurt. Fast forward three years. Yesterday I sat in a beach chair in my driveway playing a game on my phone while Sam scootered up and down our street by himself. He can now get a professional haircut; go for a hike/walk that is not a loop and that he has not done before (we did a 5k as a family to benefit his school last weekend); got to the grocery store and help with the shopping and carrying the bags and putting food away; READ OUT LOUD (this one still blows me away); speak, in a voice that gets clearer all the time; write somewhat legibly; help me bake a cake (which we did today); find ANYTHING on the internet by typing into a search engine (Nazi teletubbies, yay!); swim underwater; ride a bike without training wheels; take a shower; and give the people he loves hugs and kisses at appropriate times.

I finally feel like I have a real relationship with my son. I enjoy being with him, and I no longer dread the weekends or times when he doesn't have school. We are able to go places as a family, hiking,swimming and snowshoeing in Vermont, vacationing near the beach on Cape Cod, things I truly never thought we would ever be able to do. He is a fantastic traveller. Apparently all of those years going to and from Alaska and the East Coast (and Southern California) really paid off. He enjoys spending time with friends and family, especially his grandparents, brother, and babysitters. He understands and enjoys birthday parties and holiday gift giving, and his first real party this year with classmates and friends when he turned eight last month. He is a beautiful, smart, happy, healthy boy and we are so proud of him for all the work he does eery day. It is not easy to be Sam, but he beings joy to everyone who knows him. In spite of his limited speech, he is beloved by teachers and classmates alike.

And the talking, oh the talking! There is not much I like more than to hear my sweet boy's voice. He reads a book aloud every night to me. He is affectionate, and loves animals, particularly poultry and horses. He still gets up between 4-5:30AM, so we are looking forward to him feeding the chickens when we move to our farm house.

As for the rest of us, we are all settled into our new life. Max is obsessed with Star Wars and legos and anything interrelated, takes karate, and has also learned how to swim. He has made some good friends, and is thriving in school and at home. Matt has been very busy at our new house working in the barn and building a beautiful workshop. We have secured our first permit, and demo begins this week. We have no idea how long the renovation will take, but the sooner we start the sooner it will be done! Big plans for the summer include horseback riding for Sam, camp for Max, and a few big trips: to Alaska (me and Max), Europe (just the grown-ups for our tenth wedding anniversary) and a family vacation at the beach.

That's not to say that everything is always hunky dory. Being five has been as challenging for us as it has been for Max, and we are always working on the blood sugar/behavior balance (more food at key times equals better behavior). Max will continue to receive some support with fine motor skills in kindergarten next year, and apparently he is sensitive, just like his mama.

Sam has good days, great days, and days where he struggles, but the progression is still strongly forward, and he has a lot of people rooting for him. Matt and I have made some great new friends, and enjoy seeing our old friends now that we are baclk in the lower forty-eight. Also, we have managed to stay in touch with some current and former Alaskan friends, which helps to keep us grounded. The future looks bright for all of us. I am also thankful for wine and happy meds.

Secret to success....

Today was Day 1. It's not my New Year's resolution, but my plan each day. To be active as much as possible. It took me until 10AM to motivate but then I went for a walk. I made sure my skin was covered so I didn't get a case of the itchies. And I "borrowed" Sam's iPod and listened to a podcast of This American Life. Perfect amount of time to walk! The sun was out, and I was involved in what I was listening to and my skin was not itching from the inside out. Yesterday I walked to pick up LB at school and by the time I got there I was so itchy I got a ride home from his van driver. So today I planned better and it worked. Sweet.

Post vacay recovery

Just got back from vacation in California last night. We had a great time, although the flying was exhausting despite the kids being awesome. It is SO much easier now to travel with the boys. No longer the anxiety producing nightmare it used to be, and no more packing tons of stuff to take with on the plane. Both kids take their backpacks with some books, snacks, and toys, and M takes the iPod, ipad and DVD player. And headphones. I take my kindle, purse and some magazines. We sat in the Samsung area at the Dallas airport, with comfy mod leather seats, dimmer lighting, and lots of plugs. Also right next to Starbucks.

Kids did a lot of climbing around at Joshua Tree, swam in the pool and Sam went for bike rides on his two wheeler! Everyone went for rides on the golf cart, and we saw all the African animals at The Living Desert, along with the sickest model train set-up I have ever seen. M and I went on a date to Okura, our favorite sushi place, and a nice lunch at the clubhouse out by the pond looking out at the mountains and desert. The kids were so good at the pool I slipped in the hot tub while we were there. My parents friends were lovely and welcoming for Thanksgiving, as usual, and as usual we stayed longer than I thought.

It's nice to be home, as the day before we left we closed on our new farmhouse. It's from 1730, has a barn, almost three acres and is around the corner from our current house in another world sort of way. Today was the first day we got to take the kids over to run around. They were totally out of control, but fortunately we have some work to do on the house, so they'll have time to get used to it. Dreams of chickens and large gardens dancing in my head. Jet lag recovery is going well, and will be even better tomorrow when the kids go back to school. Hanukkah is around the corner, and Christmas soon after, so the Christmukkah shopping will begin shortly.

Waiting for Lovely Neighbors to bring dinner for our Sunday night ritual. Remind me to tell you about LB's birthday party coming up in a few weeks...

Death

Do you think that you tend to know more people who die as you get older? Is it because we are older (and old people die more), or because as the years go by we collectively know more people, and therefore the stats are against us? We've had a few deaths lately, both unexpected, several deaths of family members in the last year, and more of both in the last few years. It's always unsettling to know or know of someone who dies. Just like an illness or other extremely stressful situation, you think of the family a lot, and in my case, think of your family a lot. Since the two most recent deaths were both unexpected, I find myself pondering the possibility of it happening to my immediate family. I have been thinking of this on and off since M's dad passed away, and my anxiety about it comes and goes. M seems relatively healthy, but so did the other people who died recently. Plus, accidents happen. I've also been thinking of this in light of a new project M and I have taken on (more on this later), and how hard it would be to do it on my own.

As an aside, we are having a nice weekend in Vermont. The weather is cool and crisp, and at times even sunny, though the leaves are all but gone. We took a couple of nice walks today by The Farmhouse, and had lunch at The Brewery with the kids. The best chicken wings I have ever had in my life. Worth the (so hungry!) forty-five minute wait. We'll probably hang around and meander back in time for Indian food with Lovely (former) Neighbors. Then M leaves to help his mom pack and move to her new house and I am ALONE WITH THE KIDS. Time to hunker down and only get the minimum done. In my case, that means nothing much beyond getting the kids dressed and ready for school, packing lunches, hanging out after school and being present for home visits, providing snacks and dinner and putting them to bed. And did I forget to mention, GETTING UP AT FOUR AM WITH SAM? Like I said, not much will get accomplished besides the necessities. Wish me luck!

In which I get all mushy about my kids and Halloween

There are a lot of things that are hard about having kids. Sleepless nights (or years for that matter), potty training, huge meltdowns, and more sleep deprivation. Actually, looking back, most of the stress of having your kids be little seems to be (for me at least), just this feeling of not being yourself. From sharing your body (the constancy of feeding and holding a baby delightful and then the constant carrying of a toddler), to the mental and emotional limits of not having a whole lot left over after all of the caretaking is done. And the nights, days, weeks, months, years of exhaustion can not be underestimated. It takes a hell of a toll on a person.

But, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Aside from the highlights of the early years; walking, talking, giggles and discoveries; there is the peace of coming back to yourself as the kids get older and develop into small people with distinct personalities. The break of getting to the point of your child being able to play by themselves, however temporarily. The joy of being old enough to understand the major themes of holidays (loving family, good food, presents). And then there are the moments that make it fun to be a parent. The reason you do it in the first place. The reason that despite all the rough times, you can't imagine having made any other choice.

For me, this year, Halloween has been one of those times. The kids are old enough to show a preference for dress-up and costumes, theatrical displays, and spooky stuff. I have reveled in my Batman and Darth Vader chasing each other through the house, and our own Spongebob and Woody jumping on the trampoline. In addition, and I must say I take a little pride in this; the kids are not scared of anything. In fact, they beg for more. Case in point. Apparently, as I noted in an earlier post, LB complained that the decorations we borrowed from Grandma were not spooky enough. Especially compared to the spooky stuff in our next door neighbors yard. So together, we scoured the local Halloween stores for hanging bats, skulls that light up, pirate skeletons, ghosts and scary old fences.

Several haunted houses and spooky night walks later, we have reached the pinnacle. All Hallows Eve. Mellow day, followed by afternoon haunted house, neighbor Halloween/pre-trick or treating party, trick or treating on our street with Lovely Neighbor, and then trick or treating in Lovely Neighbors new neighborhood, followed by pizza and general mayhem. I have thoroughly enjoyed the Halloween season this year. We have carved pumpkins (three carved, eight all-together), roasted pumpkin seeds (some burned), and gone to community events. Our kids are like us, loving of fun and costumes and scary stuff. And it might be genetic, because OUR parents like Halloween too. We have finally reached the fun point in having children. Despite the hardships, there are times like today when we actually think, maybe this whole child-rearing thing wasn't such a bad idea...

Confession

I have a confession that I feel kind of guilty about. Of course, if I didn't feel guilty about it, it wouldn't be a confession, would it? Here's the thing. I try to live by example. I am not a big activist, I don't write to my senator, or attend rallies. Even when the cause is something I care deeply about. I do vote (though often for the lesser of the evils); I grow some of my own food and buy mostly organic and local; I recycle; I compost; I walk or ride my bike instead of driving when possible; I try to choose a recreational activity with my family instead of paying for an activity when I can, but... A really big but, actually. I am a consumer. More than I would like. I like buying things. Not shopping, really, but things that are easy for me to justify. We go to the library regularly for the kids, but I also buy a ton of books on Amazon for my Kindle because I love to read and finally have the time. M makes me coffee every day, twice a day, but I also sometimes buy coffee when I am out. I usually bring water with me, but I occasionally buy bottles of water, which I hate. We order take-out at least once a week (usually Indian with Lovely Neighbors). I buy Halloween decorations because LB says the ones we borrowed from Grandma aren't spooky or scary enough. I buy Halloween costumes, because they are better than the ones I could make (though I draw the lines at the ones that seem like they are made out of plastic bags). I buy apps for our iPad, mostly educational ones for the kids, but still. I buy music for me and movies to entertain the kids, because I think music is an important way to express yourself and relax, and M and I really like movies and want to share that with the kids. I buy pretty shoes and occasionally expensive jeans, because quality is easier to rationalize than quantity. I like things that are well made and last a long time. And pretty shoes make me happy.I buy books for the kids, because, well, they're books! And having a kid with autism makes somethings easier to buy. The Yogibo (crazy huge beanbag)? It's therapy. The apps and tag reader books? They will help him to read! The Spongebob Halloween costume will help him to imitate, interact and participate! The cool clothes will help him seem more normal, and to be honest, like someone cares about him. I hate seeing folks with special needs who just look like nobody cared enough to buy them clothes that fit. I recognize that I am lucky to live in a country where I have these options, and that I have the money to buy these things. For years, we watched every penny, and saved up for the "important" things. Now, it's a little easier, and I admit, I am enjoying it. I like making my kids happy and to be honest, I like playing with their toys too. Do they have too many? Probably. That's why we do toy and clothes cleansings and give away things we don't need anymore to friends or other people who might be able to use them. I understand that things aren't that important, and if it was all gone tomorrow, I think I'd be fine. I've done without before, and I could do it again. But isn't it okay to do a little of both? To take a walk and collect fall items for the science table at school or go apple picking and make apple crisp, but also to buy tickets to a special show or a much desired toy? I am still trying to balance taking advantage of the opportunities provided where I live now, and remember that we are all happiest playing outside, riding bikes home from school or collecting sticks. I think it's good to continually be seeking balance. Too smooth a ride would be, well, boring.

Little Bunny doesn't know his letters

I really need to start writing down my ideas for blog posts. I think of these great ideas, and ASSUME I will remember them. But then I don't. So I will start with what's on my mind. LB doesn't know his letters very well at all. He knows the letters in his name (of which there are three), and can MAYBE recognize half a dozen more on a good day. Is that normal? It feels like not a lot to me, and I'm not sure how to help him with this. I tend to get really frustrated when teaching him things because his patience is short (like mine) and he gets frustrated and says he quits, and then I snap, and it's done and I just feel guilty. His speech is great, he uses complete and lengthy sentences, is very creative/imaginative and a big story teller. I would say that his use of numbers is only slightly better, in that he can reliably count to ten or eleven, but doesn't have much of an understanding of written/printed numbers. I should obviously talk to his teacher(s) about this, along with my mother (educator/speech therapist), and babysitter (teacher). I can easily get him help, but I'm not sure what is normal for this age (4.5years old). To be honest, this is not something we've focused a whole lot on, so given the chance, he might progress very quickly. It's just that we were playing this Montessori Crossword game on the iPad, and I realized he had very little letter recognition. With Sam being Sam, I'm just never sure what is typical...Sam, of course, has great letter recognition, and needs to work more on the letter/sound connection. He is more at a reading/writing stage, though his number skills need some work (though are improving).

Back Again

The past several weeks have been unusually crazy. I went to OR for my annual girl trip with Aunty B. Then I chaired the scholastic book fair at The Little Person's School. I took The Little Person to the Legofest in Boston, M and I went to a live taping of the radio show Says You in Concord, MA; and M went to Alaska for a week for business. Did I mention we went apple picking? And our good friends from Juneau, came east to look at boarding schools for their son. They are staying at my parents house. I'm sure there is more, but I'm tired from my week of single parenting and being sick.

Other names The Little Person goes by are Little Bunny, Meatball, and Pickle. Let's go with Little Bunny for a while. LB for short. LB and I put up Halloween decorations we borrowed from Grandma on Saturday. LB decided the decorations weren't spooky enough, especially compared to our next door neighbors. So yesterday we went to the Halloween store (a.k.a iparty) and found some spookier stuff. I think we did pretty well. LB has also been getting into Legos. He actually started building things, mostly pirates and ships.

Old friends

This last weekend we had the opportunity to hang out with some college friends. M and I went to school with Mr. H, and he and M lived together and were in the same fraternity. yes, the fact that we were both involved in the Greek system in college is our dirty little secret. mine was even the subject of a skit on Saturday Night Live. Mr. H and his wife were dating when we were in college, and she came to visit often, so we have known her for a long time too. They are actually, of our friends, the only people we know who have been together longer than we have. They came to Alaska on their honeymoon, and spent some time with us. We were able to set up a couple of things for them in Juneau (Glacier trek/ice climbing trip with helicopter comes to mind), but Mrs. H planned most of the trip herself, and did a fantastic job, even from the perspective of someone who lived there.

Anyway, even though they live in NH, and we have been back for over two years now, this is the first time that we have seen each other since we have been back east. They drove 2.5 hours and spent the night at the Farmhouse with their kids. It was one of those situations where it has been a while (probably since Sam's baby naming 7 years ago), and yet it was just the same. At one point, we were making dinner and all in the kitchen, and the kids were running around, and we looked at each other and I said, "This is weird!" But mostly it was weird because it wasn't. And M has reminded me that he and Mr. H saw each other once at Union for a Beer Pong Tourney, but that was through a haze of beer...

The kids got along fantastically. The "little" boys had a sleepover in The Little Person's room, and their daughter is just a really cool kid. They all went sledding down the grassy hill, and whined when it was time too leave, which we thought was a good sign.

It was a good way to end the summer. We spent time with friends, we ran around in VT and hiked and swam; we went to farm and checked out the cows, horses, sheep and chickens, and drove around country roads, "toodling." We got back in time for a leisurely dinner of take-out Indian food, and prep for The Little Person's first day of school. The Whole Day! Eating Lunch At School! Taking The Van Home!

First day of school

Today was Sammy Noodles' first day of school. Well, the first day that all the kids are back, since he went to school all summer. Actually half camp, half school. I don't know how it went because he isn't home yet. He got to meet his new second grade teacher today, Mrs. S. She sent us a lovely email welcoming Sam and asking about anything she could do to make things better or easier for him. I think I will take her up on it, as soon as I catch up on a few things, like blogging.

We spent the last week on Cape Cod. It was really a great vacation. We took the kids to the beach every day (most days they went twice), and we swam in the pool, played outside, and ate lots of seafood. The house was perfect for us, and I like the idea that it is a house and area we can go back to next year.

I wanted to get something off my chest, to share a thought with you. I should start off by telling you that M disagrees with me on this. Every once in a while, someone with kids who is coming to my house will ask me what they should say about Sam to their kids. Now these are nice, good people. Often people I know pretty well. And I find myself feeling, well.....annoyed. I know, it sounds terrible. Wouldn't I rather someone ask than not talk to me (or Sam)? Sure. And I have thought about it a lot to figure out what it is about the question, and the conversation, that bothers me. The truth is, it isn't the concept of asking, it's the vagueness of the question. I think I would mind less if someone asked me a specific question about Sam. Or, if their child asked me a question. That would be even better, I think. But when someone asks me in advance of a visit, or in preparation for a conversation with their kid(s), what to tell them about Sam, I guess I just don't know what to say. And I guess I think it's kind of a dumb question. I apologize in advance for my rudeness, because I know the question is well intentioned, and not asked to make me feel bad, or irritated. But the thing is, I'm not sure it's necessary to talk about Sam's disability in advance of meeting him, if a kid doesn't ask.

That said, my answer would probably be more general than specific. I wouldn't necessarily say to a young kid that Sam had autism, but more likely go along the lines that there are some things that are difficult for him, like talking, and he uses a device (the iPad) to help him communicate. I think part of exposing kids to people's differences is sort of pretending like things aren't a big deal, or they aren't that different from you. Focusing on the similarities. The idea, that all children are kids, just like you, but some may have a special chair to help them walk (and go really fast), or an iPad to help them talk (and tell jokes, play games, watch movies and read books). I know this is simplistic, and may not work for all kids, but I feel like the way to talk about this kind of thing is on a need to know basis. Like when a kid asks a direct question. Does this make any sense? I hope I haven't offended anyone, and I don't know if other parents of kids with special needs, or kids with autism feel like this, but it is how I feel. So if you ask me what to tell you to tell your kid about Sam's autism, I may say I don't know. I'm not in charge of autism PR. I do have a child with autism, and it is a distinct part of my life, but it's just a part. Ask me what he likes to do (swim), or eat (pizza), or whether he understands what we say (yes, mostly, when asked in a direct and simple way), and is he happy (absolutely!). But I am not an expert in autism, and all kids on the spectrum are different. So I can only share my experiences. which I might do, if you are very nice and I'm in the mood.

Mr Ed's Farm

The Little Person

"Orca seals!"

"I used to have two Daddies. Then one grew up and became my Grandpa."

"If little bunny foo foo doesn't listen, then I will turn into a goon."

"No-possums. You got that Mom?"

"Do you know the Barbie cake, Mom? My Grandpa had one of those."

"I'm so cited for camp, Mom."

"How come you say mm hmm all the time Mom?"

These are some examples of things The little Person has said recently. I always say I'm going to write them down, and I even reserved a notebook for the little tidbits. But besides the one time I remembered to write it down, we mostly pass on his Little Person-isms by telling them to the people we think will care. Like The Grandparents, and Babysitter Extraordinaire, and Lovely Neighbor. So, I thought i would share some with you to keep them for posterity. I'd like to think I will keep sharing them, but the reality is probably slim. It's the thought that counts, right?

Both the kids have been really fun lately, but there is a behavior we are trying to curb with The Little Person. Lying. It takes three forms:

1. Lying because he thinks we will be mad that he did or didn't do something.
2. Lying because he thinks what we will do will hurt and he is scared.
3. Telling stories about his "Grandpa." This would be cute except when asked he says he's talking about my grandfather or M's Dad, both of whom have passed away. It's kind of cute in that he imagines a relationship with them. His Grandpa is like an imaginary friend who lets him do anything, and does anything with and buys anything for him. Lot's of it doesn't make a lot of sense literally, but shows a lot of imagination.

Also, there are issues with "being first" and "winning." I'm not sure how to deal with this, though another mom says they frame it in terms of sportsmanship. I also remind him that if he doesn't share/always has to win/be first, other kids aren't going to want to play with him. And the piece de resistance...it's not nice! Works every time.

Did I mention his imaginary friend, Dante?

Birds and farm animals, or Autistic kids LOVE horses.

Last weekend, (God, I sound like The Little Person. Everything to him is last weekend...) M and I took the boys to an open house at Mr. Ed's farm with my Dad (Poppa). Pop and Mr. Ed are friends through their daily visits to Dunkin Donuts, so we knew all about the preparations. We missed it last year, but since we were around, and we had my Dad, we decided to all go, but in two cars, in case someone had to leave quickly with Sam. The Little Person and I and sometime Pop, go semi-frequently to Mr. Ed's farm. He boards horses and dogs, and has some cows and two donkeys. We haven't taken Sam in a while because he is fairly disinterested in farm animals (until recently), and he hates horses in a freaks out and makes loud noises kind of way. But he had done a couple of zoo and farm with petting zoo field trips with school this summer, and seemed to be more interested in animals in general. He already loves birds and enjoys going to see the chickens, turkeys and ducks at The Sheep Pasture. So we went, armed with our get-away plan, not expecting to stay long.

Apparently, Mr. ed is part of the Norfolk County Farmer's Association, and the events were a product of the Association, with participation from the local 4-H and other individuals. It ended up being fantastic. The farm is small, and in the barn that normally acts as a kennel for the dogs, were all the 4-H animals. The boys had a blast, scooting around looking at and touching the animals, as well as feeding them with feed supplied by the 4-H club. We got to pet chickens, a bunny and a baby goat who was still little he fit through the bars of the gate. So it started off well, but then it went beyond our wildest dreams. We went out of the barn to go see other animals, and there was a popcorn machine, hot dogs, and ice cream from the local dairy farm, all free! Popcorn and hot dogs are like food groups to both my kids, so that was a bonus. Mr. Ed even had cowboy hats for all the kids and sheriff's badges. We went back to check out the horses and they were giving rides around the ring. We expected Sam would not be into it, but The Little Person ran right up, and then Sam seemed upset that he couldn't go. Still figuring he wouldn't actually get on a horse, he and I went into the barn to see some of the other horses and he was really into it. So we came back out and he had to WAIT his turn. But he did it, got on the horse like a pro and went around the ring like he's been doing it all of his life, with this zen smile on his face. Later, after hot dogs, popcorn, lemonade and water we came back for round two. Then we made a our getaway, going while everything was still good. After two turns, I guess they were right. Apparently autistic kids do like horses.

This morning, Pop came to take The Little Person for breakfast, which they do every Sunday. My dad would love to take Sam too, but he doesn't really like many breakfast type foods, preferring pizza and spaghetti. But he saw my Dad and started pointing at him and using the iPod to say that he wanted to see farm animals! So while those two were at breakfast, we three headed for the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru for chocolate donuts and then to The Sheep Pasture. Kid was happy as a clam. We even saw ponies and sheep. Since being home, he has been in and out of the pool. He has been calmer since I've been down here with him, but seems to be getting revved up again. He is in his sleeping bag watching Peep and The Big Wide World. Maybe he needs company. Peace out.

Getting old

As I write this Sam is screaming on and off. For no apparent reason. He does this sometimes and it gets to me. Not sure if it's the helpless feeling of him being upset and me not knowing why or how to fix it, or the part of me that feels annoyed and wants him to just stop. So I decided maybe he just wanted someone to hang out with, and I am sitting on the couch downstairs while he is on the computer next to me. Sometimes proximity helps. Both of us.

As an aside, but also the point of this post, I feel as if my body is falling apart. In addition to my intermittent stomach issues (fine today, thanks for asking), I now have gross feet. I think they are plantar warts, and I have had them in some capacity for a while. They did go away at one point, but they are back, and no amount of over the counter medicine, or freezing them, has made much of a difference. And, worse even, is that seem to be spreading. They don't hurt as much as they are unsightly, and I feel like I need to wash my hands every time I touch them. I used to have really nice feet, and now I have the kind of feet that used to gross me out on other people. I even went through a period of time when I couldn't have other people's feet touch me. M has some foot issues that I have wanted him to take care of for a while (he has, with over the counter, but not anything in prescription form), issues that are different from mine, and sadly now, not as bad.

Even my Mom is grossed out by my feet and thinks i should just go to the podiatrist. But, it's not that simple. For one thing, I have a couple that are in places other than the bottom of my feet. One on the top of my foot. And one on my hand. I'm embarrassed to tell you that, because now you may not want to shake my hand when you meet me. It's okay, I'm not much of a hand shaker anyway. So the first problem is that I may have more than one kind. Plantar warts only occur on the bottom of your feet. Which means that the podiatrist couldn't deal with the one on my hand. Plus, the additional locations may be the purview of a dermatologist. Secondly, I think I now have to get referrals for doctors not in the group of my primary. And my primary is in Boston, and I don't feel like going for an appointment in Boston, just to get a referral to someone else, since I have already gone to her for multiple fruitless freezings. Also, I haven't been to her for a while, so I'm not sure if she would give me a referral without seeing her now. And it would mean possibly going to two different doctors. I feel exhausted just talking about it. And it's just for my feet! well, mostly. I could try to go to someone in the group, but the ones that are either close by or recommended (by Mom and Babysitter Extraordinaire) are not in the group. So it would be going to someone I didn't know and didn't have any information about.So, I haven't gone and I haven't called. I might just swing by the podiatrist by my gym and self pay. It's sooooo convenient, and more likely to happen sooner.

Plus, I feel like if I deal with my feet, I shouldn't ignore my stomach. And that would be another appointment. In Boston. And switching my gastroenterologist is not an option. I like her and I'm comfortable. I could email her, but she'll tell me to come in. maybe it will all just go away.

And then, there are the kids. They are up to date on their shots and yearly physicals, but there are some appointments with specialists I have been considering. And they both probably need dentist appointments. Maybe after school starts I'll be able to deal.

On another note

Before I go, I just want to mention that I have been thinking about shoes. A lot. More later.

On my mind

The other day I did some shopping at some yoga style clothing stores and though I found some things, I was not happy with the sizes I fit into. My body image is a complicated thing that I'm not really comfortable with. I want to be thin and athletic, but I think women should be comfortable with what they look like. I don't want to be obsessed with food, but I don't want to be fat. It disturbs me that my views are somewhat contradictory. I know I could be more fit if I made some sacrifices, but i'm not sure if I don't take that extra step because I am healthy (mentally and physically) or just lazy and deluded. I struggle between wanting women (including myself) to be comfortable with their bodies and not obsessed with weight/food and my concern over the growing amount of extremely overweight people and wonder whether I should be more comfortable with what I look at or whether I need to do something about it.

Sometimes in the morning, when I get up with Sam, and it's really early, I actually pray that he will go back to sleep. And I never pray, so it seems either hypocritical or pathetic. And since it's not something I believe in, I don't think it's going to work. But I do it anyway. I have never told anyone that.

I have ulcerative colitis, which I was diagnosed with after The Little Person was born. Somehow I never recovered from just giving birth, and just got sicker, ending with a sixteen day stint in the hospital. It was kind of rocky for a while, but I have been fairly healthy since we have moved back east. I occasionally get flare ups, and I no longer try to run outside (no bathrooms), but for the most part I am symptom free. Or at least I was until a few weeks ago. I am still not even close to the state that put me in the hospital, but it has screwed up my plans a little lately. Even after I cut out coffee. Carbs are my friend right now, and I always have a stash of graham crackers or saltines. I haven't had peanut butter in a while, and I just started to phase coffee back in. Absolutely no dairy, red meat, beans, or tofu. I don't mind that part really, but I am a little pissed off at having to ditch out half way on a kayaking trip; making an emergency dash into the CVS bathroom; ditching into the woods at Walden Pond and in Nantucket; as well as planning a walk with my neighbor to go past my parents' house, in case I had to go to the bathroom (I did). I even had to cut out part way through a work out last week. Oh, did I mention I can't eat most granola bars? I upped my meds and altered my diet. The best solution I have found is to stop eating for a while. So it's not really a good time for me to increase my exercise or limit my carbs.

I have some things to say about The Little Person, as well as Sammy Noodles and our house, but it's close to bedtime and small people want my attention and the Tiger Balm on my neck feels weird.

I'm just sayin...