Complete Control

The Little Man is not very little anymore. In fact, he’s almost as tall as I am! 

He is officially done with grade school, 

and off to middle school this fall. Now that he’s “grown up”,

 there are a lot of changes happening at home. I can no longer send him to the couch or naughty corner for time out, because he’s an incoming 6^th grader.

 Taking away toys or ipad time isn’t always effective, and sometimes I think it’s not really teaching him anything. I am fortunate that he’s a really good kid. My son rarely if ever lies. If he comes across something questionable on you tube or on line, he will bring it to our attention almost immediately. We try to keep the lines of communication open and no topic is really off limits.

That being said, he can still be naughty-he’s still a kid and still learning and exploring his world. Add to it, autism and that can just amp up things. Over the years, we have tried a variety of parenting methods  and styles, but wind up in the same place most of the time-frustrated and dealing with the same behaviors and issues over and over again. Part of the problem is how he sees and interacts with the world. Nothing can ever completely overcome sensory challenges, but we can do our best to limit them. As time has gone on, I for the most part, can figure out what is a kid being a kid vs. autism/sensory behaviors.

One thing that has worked for us, and continues to work is using Beyond Consequences. It is a parenting methodology designed for families dealing with reactive attachment disorder. I am not comparing autism to RAD, but there are some commonalities with the rages and meltdowns and behavioral concerns. Being able to divorce myself from my own emotional state at the moment I can help him  understand why what he did was the wrong choice. Much of the time its either we are asking him to make a transition from one activity to the next (transitions are super hard for him) or to do something he doesn’t enjoy (like homework or cleaning his room). By validating his feelings, we are letting that connection take place and even solve the problem at hand together.

I am not saying this happens all the time, but when it does, its magic.

 

Here’s a real life example of just how awesome this exchange can be:

 

Scene: hanging out in the living room, little man is playing on his ipad. I am reading a book and listening to music. I remind him he needs to practice piano. [this is a transition from one activity to the next]

 

Meltdown ensues.

 

I ask why he’s upset. He responds he never gets to have any fun. Lots of crying and yelling.

 

I can either respond in kind or take a deep breath. I choose the latter.

 

I tell him, I understand that you are upset. You got to play your game after dinner. It’s now time to practice piano, and then you can go back to your game. I know it’s hard for you to go from one thing to the next.

 

He continues to be angry and yelling at me. [note: this is common autistic behavior. He is not in control of his emotions and can’t help it] I let him rage for a little bit. He knows he’s safe, and I make sure there isn’t any self harm or anything potentially dangerous.

It can be uncomfortable. It is painful to watch someone you love unconditionally to be that upset over something (that I think anyway) is trivial.

After a bit, he calms himself down and is “regulated”. At this point, we can get to the core of why he is upset. He tells me he wanted to get to the next level on his game, and it would take a few more minutes to get there. At this point, we discuss what would have been a better way to communicate this to me, and he said that next time he will tell me that he wants to finish the level. I get a giant cuddle.

 

I let him finish the level, and he goes on to practice piano for the next 45 minutes (15 minutes longer than I ask him to practice). The next day, we are in the same situation, and instead of a meltdown, he comes across the room, shows me his game. He spends the next 10 or so minutes sitting next to me, explaining the game and including me in something precious to him.  He goes on to finish the level before practicing piano.

 

If I had just forced the issue originally and taken away his ipad, the meltdown would have been worse. It would have gone on for a long time, at a high intensity, and nothing would have been gained. The piano would not have been practiced. I would be spent, he would be spent, our house in chaos.

 

Beyond Consequences doesn’t always work, but even when it fails miserably, we still are able to maintain that connection. My son is learning to reason out his behavior and figuring out what works and what doesn’t. For that, I am grateful.

Oh, and cuddles too.

Serious

Yoga made me a better mother.


Seriously.

I’m not kidding.

TRUST ME.

Once upon a time, I was a sullen, surly teenage girl. I wore lots of black and wrote bad poetry. Morrissey, my birthday twin, was my idol and then later Henry Rollins (if you know who both are, you are ahead of the game). I was EMO before there was such a term. I was living, eating breathing stereotype.

I also did lots of things to be different, long before I turned 18. I was a vegetarian, long before it went mainstream (back in the dark ages, finding foods or eating out was brutal) I did belly dancing because my local Y offered it. I learned how to restore ancient textiles volunteering at an 17th century house turned museum. And I discovered yoga.

My whole life turned upside down.

Literally.

One thing that has remained a constant throughout my adult life is my practice to yoga. I could list the five gazillion benefits it has afforded me, but that is another time, another place. The greatest reward it has given me is making me a better mother.

Through yoga, I was able to transform myself from that angry teenager with the poor fashion sense and bad writing skills to who I am today. As I’ve grown my practice has grown and transformed, gone deeper. I don’t do the more physical poses (you won’t catch me in scorpion anymore, that’s for darn sure) that I could 25 years ago. Instead, I find myself twisting and stretching. There is nothing better than triangle first thing in the morning. I love how it stretches out my body and focuses me.

I have learned to listen to my body from yoga. When I feel like the weight of the world on my shoulders, chances are I am holding onto something that could make me snap. It’s a symptom of neglecting self care. I am much more attuned when I am getting sick or not getting enough rest. I can make minor adjustments and hopefully avoid things spiraling out of control.

Yoga has taught me to breathe. That might sound strange since we all breathe-without it we are dead. Literally. Breathing deeply, and opening up my lungs has prevented me from saying things that might break little boy’s hearts and crushing his soul. I have learned to take that five breath time out to stop myself from saying something that I might regret later.

Through the practice of yoga, I have learned patience. Its called practice for a reason. There are some asanas that after all these years I still haven’t mastered. Its ok There isn’t some master exam to prove whether or not you can do x move or not. I have learned that sometimes you need to wait. Silence is ok too, because its in that silence you sometimes hear so much.

When my son was little, and new to us, he didn’t have any functional language. Most of his communication was through gestures or a series of screams and nonsensical babble. It was like playing charades with Pantera. Over time, because I just listened and observed and was silent, I began to discern what each movement or sound meant. It opened the door to us bonding, and having conversations. We were able to understand each other more, just by listening to the silence.

Yoga made me a better mother because I was able to share that with my son. We have been practicing yoga for almost five years together. In the beginning, it was a way for him to learn to focus, to calm himself and to stretch out muscles he would keep clenched and tight. We would do it before bed in hopes of helping him sleep better. We would do a few quick asanas before school, to help him calm his mind to focus on school work. We bonded over a mat and downward dog. We learned to trust each other because of yoga.

I am a better wife, mother and person because of yoga.

Serious.

Little Lion Man

At the end of the school year last spring, my then 4^th grade son had the “talk” in school. I was a little verklempt about it, since its another sign he is growing up (way too fast by my standards, but its for the greater good). When the Big Man and I asked him that night over dinner what he learned, his response was that he will need to shower more and wear deodorant.

 

The very real reality, is there is a lot more to life as a tween or teen, and it isn’t just showering. I wish it was that simple.

 

The changes blowing in the wind have led to some pretty amazing conversations with my son, and its making me grateful to have such a close relationship with him. I love watching how he is negotiating this brave new world for him. He’s growing taller, his baby face has thinned out to more angular features. He’s developing his own likes and dislikes, and is definitely showing his own personality.

 

Its also a crucial time in his social development. Fairly recently, a mom posted an article on why her sons will un-friend girls on Facebook if they were scantily clad or enticing her boys. I was stunned at her behavior, blaming the girls for being a bad influence on her sons. Basically, she’s giving her boys a free pass to participate in lewd and lascivious behavior.

That is not how we are raising our son.

 

I’ve talked to him about some of the images presented in the media, and their effect on him. For example, we were at the mall and walked past Victoria’s Secret. He mentioned that there were mannequins in bikinis (bless his naiveté). We talked about what he thought about that, being in the mall. He said it made him uncomfortable, and when I pressed him further he said that it belonged at the pool. That opened the door for other discussions on the female image in the media (once a feminist, always a feminist). He’s not quite at the right age yet to go more in depth on objectification of women and the dumbing down of society.

 

Raising a young man today is hard, with all the messages society is pushing on us. I hope that we are instilling strong values-including respect, compassion and kindness-that will make up his moral core.

 

Life's Rich Pageant

My little man is growing up. In my opinion, way too fast. He used to love Nick Jr and cling to me for dear life. Over night it seems, he morphed into a tween. We like Disney XD, the Crocodile Hunter, and LMFAO. Instead of cuddling, I get a quick hug. Kisses have morphed into a high 5. The loud and proud "I love you" is now an inaudible murmur.
Video games, independence and friends are more important. My cuddle bug has been taken away and replaced with this tall, handsome person.
Time marches on.
And I am enjoying every minute of it. I have been blessed with an amazing child who fills my life with joy, laughter and love. There isn't a nanosecond that goes by when he isn't on my heart or mind.
Life's rich pageant, indeed.

Drops of Jupiter

My son's current obsession is with the solar system. For Christmas he got s telescope. he checked out about a gazillion books on the different planets, asteroids and other heavenly bodies. Each night we read a kittle bit more at bedtime. I'm enjoying it as much as he is.
True confession time: I love astronomy. I love stargazing. Want to know an incredibly romantic movie scene? In a beautiful mind when Russell Crowe is tracing constellations with Jennifer Connolly's fingers. One of my favorite things to do at night in the summer was to lay out on a blanket and look up at the sky. Sometimes you can catch a shooting star (actually it's s meteor, but that doesn't have quite the same ring) rushing by.
(Since I read Neil Gaiman's Stardust, the book's plot is foremost in my mind when I see one)
I mark the Perseid & Leonids showers on my calendar and set my alarm to catch them.
Its exciting to see my son develop an interest independently in something that's one of my passions.
In fact, he's so passionate about space he can recite random facts like I can recite my chore list. Tonight in our Children's group, we took advantage of beautiful weather and spring fever to color our church courtyard with pictures of G-d's creation. My son decided to recreate the solar system out of sidewalk chalk, complete with the asteroid belt and kuiper belt. Creative genius I tell you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r6IN-s_L6vs&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Serious

Yoga made me a better mother.


Seriously.

I’m not kidding.

TRUST ME.

Once upon a time, I was a sullen, surly teenage girl. I wore lots of black and wrote bad poetry. Morrissey, my birthday twin, was my idol and then later Henry Rollins (if you know who both are, you are ahead of the game). I was EMO before there was such a term. I was living, eating breathing stereotype.

I also did lots of things to be different, long before I turned 18. I was a vegetarian, long before it went mainstream (back in the dark ages, finding foods or eating out was brutal) I did belly dancing because my local Y offered it. I learned how to restore ancient textiles volunteering at an 17th century house turned museum. And I discovered yoga.

My whole life turned upside down.

Literally.

One thing that has remained a constant throughout my adult life is my practice to yoga. I could list the five gazillion benefits it has afforded me, but that is another time, another place. The greatest reward it has given me is making me a better mother.

Through yoga, I was able to transform myself from that angry teenager with the poor fashion sense and bad writing skills to who I am today. As I’ve grown my practice has grown and transformed, gone deeper. I don’t do the more physical poses (you won’t catch me in scorpion anymore, that’s for darn sure) that I could 25 years ago. Instead, I find myself twisting and stretching. There is nothing better than triangle first thing in the morning. I love how it stretches out my body and focuses me.

I have learned to listen to my body from yoga. When I feel like the weight of the world on my shoulders, chances are I am holding onto something that could make me snap. It’s a symptom of neglecting self care. I am much more attuned when I am getting sick or not getting enough rest. I can make minor adjustments and hopefully avoid things spiraling out of control.

Yoga has taught me to breathe. That might sound strange since we all breathe-without it we are dead. Literally. Breathing deeply, and opening up my lungs has prevented me from saying things that might break little boy’s hearts and crushing his soul. I have learned to take that five breath time out to stop myself from saying something that I might regret later.

Through the practice of yoga, I have learned patience. Its called practice for a reason. There are some asanas that after all these years I still haven’t mastered. Its ok There isn’t some master exam to prove whether or not you can do x move or not. I have learned that sometimes you need to wait. Silence is ok too, because its in that silence you sometimes hear so much.

When my son was little, and new to us, he didn’t have any functional language. Most of his communication was through gestures or a series of screams and nonsensical babble. It was like playing charades with Pantera. Over time, because I just listened and observed and was silent, I began to discern what each movement or sound meant. It opened the door to us bonding, and having conversations. We were able to understand each other more, just by listening to the silence.

Yoga made me a better mother because I was able to share that with my son. We have been practicing yoga for almost five years together. In the beginning, it was a way for him to learn to focus, to calm himself and to stretch out muscles he would keep clenched and tight. We would do it before bed in hopes of helping him sleep better. We would do a few quick asanas before school, to help him calm his mind to focus on school work. We bonded over a mat and downward dog. We learned to trust each other because of yoga.

I am a better wife, mother and person because of yoga.

Serious.

Packing Blankets

When I had my surgery almost 7 months ago, my mother in law

made me this awesome get well quilt.

It kept me warm and cocooned as I recovered.

Little Man had his tonsils out last Wednesday.

 For him, it was extremely traumatic, and he has been a bit upset about it for the last few days.

He came out to run a few errands with me after church yesterday, and while in the car, he asked me if he could get a quilt too.

Huh? How did I miss that?

So off to Jo Ann Fabric we went. He originally wanted Hot Wheels fabric, but we couldn't find any. The second choice was the movie Cars,

 so we went with that, and Hot Wheels like flamed fabric for the backing.

His favorite color is purple, so he chose that for the binding.

I bought a yard & half of each of the fabrics, and 2 3 yard packages of pre-made blanket binding along with batting.

I pinned the fabrics together.

Sewed a 1/4 inch seam around the perimeter.

I attached my walking foot and did some free form quilting.

After that, I pinned and sewed the binding, all while watching the

 Mets beat the Yankees in 10 innings (the Big Man is a Yankees fan, I love my M-E-T-S Mets Mets Mets)

And then, we had a quilt in a day!

Little Man loves it so much that it went everywhere with him last night, and when I checked on him this morning, he was all wrapped up in it.

Morning lullabies

I am quite envious of parents who say that their mornings are peaceful and calm.
My life is chaotic, at best.
I am dragging my son out of bed, yelling at him to get up, eat breakfast, brush teeth, etc. etc. etc. Not to mention, me trying desperately trying to get myself up and out. I try to look put together, but for the most part I am thrown all out of sorts.
I did not envision motherhood to be like this.
I was expecting my morning to be a breeze, that I would get done all I wanted and needed to.
I thought we would sit together at the table, and eat breakfast as a family.
I thought it was would be calm and glorious.
Its not.
I am a screaming banshee.
I try hard to not to be, honest I do.
But it happens.
The sad thing is the alarm goes off at 445. Whether or not I actually get out of bed is a different story. The plan is for me to go downstairs, do a little laundry, work out. Come upstairs take my shower and do my daily cleaning. Hey, I might even get dinner prepped!
Reality is, I roll out of bed, eventually. I then chug copious amounts of coffee. Eventually I go downstairs but its about 45 minutes or so since the alarm originially rang, so it limits my time working out. I exercise, half heartedly.
I then dork around some more, so I don't take my shower on time. Then I run out of time for cleaning. I don't get dressed in a timely manner.
Then there is the matter of the small child/morning monster. He does not want to get out of bed, so I use begging, pleading, cajoling, blackmail and bribery (not necessarily in that order). If we are lucky, he will get out of bed and eat his breakfast in the kitchen. Somedays, we are multitasking that.
I scream, I cry. I carry on.
We are literally running out of the house most days, because we are so late.
I am exhausted by the time I get to work, and then its a struggle to stay focused.
Ugh.
So, I keep trying to make it better. Honest I do.
The Little Man is growing up so fast. I feel I am missing out on so much, with this dischord.
I so desperately want those morning lullabies before its too late.

I, Alone

It hurts when a fellow ASD family is torn apart because of it.
It also hurts to find out that this family had been suffering a long time before making the painful decision to divorce.
Unfortunately, for a lot of families on the spectrum, you don’t have many options to turn to for help and consolation. Most families keep it all inside, not out of shame but out of the fact not too many people understand, including counselors. Unless you’ve been in the situation, you don’t understand the guilt that you deal with, on top of the stressors from having a child with a disability-and no real game plan.

If you have a child with Downs or CP, there are pretty concrete treatment plans. You see x specialist for this, you have this type of PT or OT or ST. You have a wealth of knowledge, research and options.
Autism doesn’t have that. I joke and say that autistic kids are like snowflakes-every one is different. It is true, and that’s what makes it so insidious to deal with. Add to it the fact that autism is the fastest growing disability, and there are a whole host of issues to contend with. There is a lot of gray areas in terms of treatment.
Gluten free diet or not?
ABA therapy?
Son Rise therapy?
All sorts of decisions to be made, add to it the fact that there are a whole host of what the medical community call co-morbidities. In my son’s case there are issues with chronic ear infections and chronic strep throat. He has issues with strasbismus (he was born with 2 lazy eyes which have been corrected with surgery, but one eye still drifts from time to time-especially when he is tired)He has had ear tubes put in and this summer will have a T&A. He has chronic sleep issues. As he has gotten older, he has gotten better about tooth brushing & flossing, especially when he had to have dental surgery to correct problems. In the grand scheme of things, this isn’t as bad as how some folks I know have it.
And that’s the rub. He’s too autistic to be considered normal or neurotypical, but not autistic enough for some more specialized care and treatment. For example, there is a miracle league baseball team here in town, and I thought that might be better for him to play on instead of a regular team (much less pressure, able to work on skills and being part of a team vs. winning and competitive). However, he wasn’t autistic enough to play since he doesn’t have an aide or certain adaptive needs on his IEP. Yet, the league thought it would not be a good fit for him to be on a regular team because of his disability.
Or the fact that he’s smarter than most other kids his age. He tested for the gifted & talented program, but because he was ill at ease with the tester and had some language deficits-he didn’t make it in. That’s the definition of autism in a nutshell. So, he’s not getting enough challenge in school unless I am constantly on top of things with the teacher-who this year basically told me its HER classroom and SHE knows best.
These are the little, every day things that over time build up. I cry in the bathroom some days because no one can hear me in the shower. My son has exceeded all expectations set for him originally, mainly because they set the bar pretty low and he’s a bright kid. He can do a lot more than he gets credit for, and he’s learned how to coast already.

So, like many other spectrum mommies, I feel powerless. I feel like my case is not being heard. I feel like I am screaming in space, because no one hears me. And so it goes, life on the spectrum.
Ive heard from other moms walking my path that it is a struggle. Every day presents new challenges, and new issues. Right now, my son doesn’t want to go to school, and it’s a struggle to get him up and going every day. He takes his time to the point when WE HAVE TO LEAVE, and he’s still not ready. So… I wind up screaming. If not, he doesn’t get motivated and then I am seriously late to work. Then I feel awful because I am screaming at my kid, who does not deserve a banshee for a mother.

This guilt seems to be pretty common amongst spectrum mommies.
However the commonalities, we are all snowflakes ourselves. It is I, Alone.

Last resort

I will admit that I've been struggling a lot lately. My biggest issue, quite frankly, is me. I'm very much in my own head & its causing a huge issue for me.
I'm at a weight loss plateau. I'm not really gaining or losing. Ive got a bit of a pooch going on in my belly & I'm very self conscious of it.
A lot of just plain out tiredness in my house. Being physically tired. Emotionally spent. If a parent of a child with specialized needs ever tells you they are not drained at all, they are lying. Even though my son doesnt require additional assistance really, there are other behaviors that drain me.
He's currently obsessed with angry birds. Yes the game is addictive, but autism brings it to the next level. Especially at bedtime.
And theres this pesky nuisance called school. You know, this interrupts our play time, and we are really quite done with second grade.
So its a struggle most mornings to get up & out the door. I'm exhausted by the time I get to work, which just adds to stress, etc.
So...I need a change of perspective. I can't wave a magic wand & make all the tension & stress go away. I need to tecaliberate life.
Listing my goals, etc. Doesn't work in my life. Basically, I'm on my own with things. The big man is ready for bed by the time I get home from work, so anything I get from him is a bonus. I'm tired too, and sometimes I need to veg out. I may not have a physically demanding job, but there's a lot of mental, and some days emotional, stress & overusage between both my jobs....and at the end of the day I am still a wife & mother. Someone needs to scrub the toilets & put the laundry away.
So, I either go with it or step away.
I don't plan on going anywhere, so its option A.