What is happening???

I'm not sure what kind of trickery this is, and what Autism plans on doing next, but this week has been full of Baduka surprises...

* he taught the dog to fetch. The dog has seriously never chased a ball in his life. And he would only drop it for Baduka.

* Baduka, king of never changing without a fight, hates new things, wants the same old same old, SWITCHED CUPS WITHOUT DEHYDRATING FIRST. This has never happened in 5 years. He uses the same style cup, til the company redesigns them, and I panic, and yell in the cup section, and hope, and pray I can find something else that's comparable. Then we wait til he gives in, and finally takes a sip, and realizes he's not poisoned, and I finally breathe again.

* he's been reading Bear In Underwear. Today he pulled on a pair of too small, Oscar the Grouch underpants, declared them to be a "perfect fit!" And laid on the Yogibo. I brought him to the bathroom a few times, nothing. Then I forgot about it, made some coffee, and tried to remember what not being tired was like. I heard the bathroom door open, and expected to hear The New Kid doing something obnoxious, but instead heard peeing. Baduka didn't pee on the Yogibo. He only slightly peed his Oscar's. So he asked for new underpants. I offered an Elmo butt. He said, "spider butt, please!" Cutest Spiderman butt I've ever seen.

So yeah, not sure what you're up to Autism, maybe you can whisper winning lottery numbers in his ear next. We could use a million bucks.

a day at the park

This morning after hours of playing, and wrestling, and throwing, and diapers, and waffles for breakfast, the best boys asked for "pahk pleazz!" "Ya, ah play-GROUND!" "in dah waggin'!" How do you say no? It's beautiful out, so I got them dressed, Baduka grabbed a lion puppet, and off we went.

When we got there, a little boy and his dad were the only two at the park. I love times like that. The maniacs get to run, and do whatever they want, and I don't have to worry about them breaking a stranger's baby with their not great social/play skills.

This lasted about ten minutes before I heard the gate squeal open, and a daycare poured in. I immediately went into "let's leave" mode. The boys weren't having it. I can't blame them, we hadn't even been there long enough for them to break a sweat. So I stood on guard and let them play.

I am so glad I did.

Many times I worry, that with all the fighting and wrestling and general insanity they create for each other at home, that they don't really like each other in real life. Then times like today happen, and I catch myself smiling that stupid kind of smile, that you couldn't make go away if you tried.

Baduka, Dizzy, and The New Kid ran around, and through, and over, and under the other kids. They showed that they may not play like them, but they waited their turns, and didn't cause any bloodshed. No pushing or fighting.

The truly best part was that they looked out for each other. They would separate, and return to each other. The New Kid would come to me and ask where one of the others were. Then run off giggling and smiling to them. They held hands, and hugged. Baduka helped pick Dizzy up when he fell, and kissed his head. They all took turns pushing the lion puppet in the baby swing. Laughing together as they pushed.

And in those moments, as I stood watching my best boys playing in the middle of a noisy daycare park trip, I smiled and thought to myself, that they may not have the same set of social skills, and they may not play like the other kids, but they are forming a friendship that lasts well beyond waggin' rides to the pahk for the play-GROUND.

I really can't ask for anything more perfect than three lifelong best friends, now can I?

changes

Since Baduka was about 18 months old, we've had someone come to our house every week for early intervention, and then ABA services. When we first started I LOVED our guy and girl. (Seriously.) We still have his picture on our wall and I'm facebook friends with her. 

But theeeen... We got a few for ABA, when he got diagnosed. And I sat trying to prevent my head from exploding. I could go on, and on, and on about my extreme dislike for the company we had, but I won't. When he turned three and aged out, I gladly took a break, since he was then enrolled in pre-k. I was guilted back by his doctors. We did go with another company, and while I liked them as people, it really helped me realize how much I don't like ABA.

Part of my dislike for in home services is the complete disruption to our real life. Baduka is separated, from me and his brothers, by a hallway and a closed door. Doesn't seem like that big of a deal, I guess. But for hours a day, we're trapped. The other two don't get to come first. They don't get what they want. I don't either. I don't get to be the mom I want to be. Not many chances to paint at the kitchen table, when the kitchen table is being used for therapy. And when you aren't sure you even agree with it? It makes for some pretty miserable afternoons. 

I've read a little bit about how autistic adults hated their therapy sessions. How it made them feel like they aren't good enough, with their twirling, and flapping, and screeches. Using ABA to train it out of them. It doesn't make the feelings that cause the behavior to go away. Just makes them ashamed for feeling the need to do it. So they hide it and new behaviors take their place anyway. I never want Baduka to grow up feeling like that, so I try to make sure a lot of his programs are not based on his autistic behaviors, and more towards learning something. Which I admit, don't give them a lot to work with. And I listen in on things that make little sense to me.

This is also happening while Dizzy and the New Kid are trying to be 2 and 3. It's hard. I don't have it all together most sessions. I've said and yelled and ughed through many sessions and later feel so awful. It's not their fault. They don't have much freedom. They make giant messes. I end up looking like a lunatic. It's been more stressful than the autism some days. 

Maybe you wonder why we don't find something else? Insurance. I love how they make so many decisions for people, and they don't have any idea what kind of life they create with them. But anyway.

I started to realize there needs to be a change around here. Baduka has had the spotlight for 5 years. The other two need a chance to get what they want. Especially since they know how to ask for things. Things that would benefit all three of them anyway. They ask for trampoline bounces at Nana's, and walks in the wagon to get donuts. So last week, I decided to quit ABA. I already notice a difference. Baduka is playing more. And communicating a bit more. It's kind of amazing, even if it's just baby steps. 

Who knows where our trip down Autism St will lead us, but saying goodbye today to our therapists was so freeing. Maybe we'll see them again, but I am not sad to see them go. 

I am definitely not sad to try being the mom I always wanted to be either. I think we'll make marshmallows today.

LOVESAC, step by step

As many of you know, we live in a one bedroom apartment. The demons have the bedroom, and me and Daddy, sleep on a pull out couch. (That sounds creeptastic. Sorry.) Anyway, we decided to invest a bajillion dollars into a LOVESAC Sactional. Here's how we did it...

1. Go to the mall for lunch, without your kids, and with your favorite sister, and decide to browse.

2. Walk into LOVESAC to see their beanbag chairs.

3. Fall in love with the salesguy's every word, and BEG your husband to listen to the reasons we need to part with a bajillion dollars.

4. Do your taxes.

5. Wait for taxes to be returned to you.

6. Pay off all you owe, so you feel better about buying a Sactional.

7. Go back to LOVESAC and buy it. Convince them to deliver it as immediately as possible.

8. Be surprised, and unprepared, when it shows up 3 days into their 7-10 day delivery schedule, because you're good at begging.

9. Stare at 14 unpacked boxes til your husband gets home.

10. Try cleaning out the toys and junk in the way of getting the old couch out, while your precious children put it all back where you found it.

11. Try wrangling your kids into one room, so they don't get in the way. Repeatedly. Like 12 times. One may end up injured. Feel bad and set them free.

12. Throw the old couch away, by kicking it down the stairs, saying "goodbye! I hate you!" It's okay to imagine someone you actually wouldn't mind kicking down your stairs, saying that, while doing it. It's therapeutic.

13. Start unpacking the 14 boxes, with "help" from the 3 worst helpers you know.

14. Finally, after an hour and a half, get the pieces covered, and in the correct room.

15. Get into 17 "friendly" disagreements, because someone can't visualize the words, "one right here, and there, and that one not there anymore, because then it's not the right shape."

16. Try hard to get 3 kids, that may be part monkey, and totally crazy, to stay off the pieces. When that doesn't work, emergency tubby time. The kind that starts hot, and ends shivering, with "Iiiii feeeezin!" cries. And allows someone to actually read the easy way to put it together directions.

17. Finally have it together enough to call it done. Tell the kids no food ever, ever, ever when they want to eat mac n cheese on it.

18. Get the kids to bed and stay up late watching Orphan Black, eating Doritos and drinking cokes, on the couch you said no food allowed on.

19. Sleep like you dream about, and shut off three alarms the next morning, before you drag yourself out.

20. Repeat that last step, as many times as your lifetime guarantee, on the most comfortable couch ever, in the history of ever, allows.

And there you have it, 20 steps to getting the best bajillion dollar couch into your living room.

April 2nd, just another date.

I don't like awareness days and months. Honestly, I've never understood the point of them. Yes, you can wear your color, and light your light bulbs, but then what? Are you going to make an actual change? Are you going to do something that shows you learned something?

I never thought I would have such a close relationship with someone autistic. Then almost 5 years ago, I gave birth to my awareness. I knew around 6 months old, that I got a different one. It's funny to me, in high school one of our teachers used to say, "don't make fun of someone different than you, you still don't know what you're going to get." That always stuck with me. I mean, he said that at least 18 years ago, I think. I have always tried to be friends with everyone, unless I had a reason not to. I'd like to think I'm a pretty good judge of who is a good person to be friends with, and who isn't. So, you would think based on his warning, I made fun of people different than me.

But I didn't, because having Baduka has been one of my greatest joys in life.

Sure, there's been days where the autism awareness level has been through the roof. I joke, and say his autism rash is flaring on those days. And there's been days where I've cried at the frustration, and the questions, and the what next. But then I turn, and he's reading a book. I'm so amazed at who he is becoming.

And those are the times that I like to think that I got Baduka, because I am friends with those that are different. I am aware of those that may be harder to get to know, and love. And whoever was in charge of placing that amazing boy into my life knew that I didn't need a day, or a month, or a color, or a bulb to know that I would love him. I would love him so much.

Be nice to people, no matter who they are. Some of your greatest joys and days will come from it. Stop using a date on the calendar to realize true friendships can be found in faces all around you. Accept that some people have a different path in life to take, but that doesn't mean you can't walk a few steps with them. I promise you both will part ways better for it.

oh, poop.

I'm positive we are bad at potty training. I mean, seriously, not even close to doing it right. We try though. Every morning at least 2 of them wake up dry, and pee on the potty. I then, nicely suggest underpants. And go put the diaper they demand on.

Today was no different. Dizzy woke up dry. He also woke up with his demon face on, so I had to trick him into peeing.

"Wanna pee on the potty?"

"No!"

"Well, you can't anyway."

"I not yoah fren."

"Not my friends ESPECIALLY can't pee on my potty, so you better not!"

"I peein!"

Tricked him again.

But today was different. After goofing around, and generally being Demon Dizzy, he told me he was going to pee in the little potty. He lies like this a lot, to just sit around half naked. I let him sit there, while I went to change The New Kid. And then the yelling started.

"MOOOOOM! I peeeeeeed!! Izz Stinky! P-U!"

The kid pooped on the potty for the first time ever. 

But so help you, if you even SUGGEST it's a good thing!

"Good job bud--"

"NOOO!!"

And showing him the underpants with Spider-Man on them? Obviously the worst thing ever.

"No! No! A dipah!" 

Okay, dude. Here ya go. Just stop demoning.

feeling punchy.

Exactly everything, has been not awesome today, so here's a list of things I'd punch in the face if I could:

*whatever made Baduka wake up at 4am-ish. But not him, I won't punch him. Don't worry.

*the snow.

*the snow on the roofs of all the schools, in our whole city, that made February vacation 2 weeks long.

*snowbanks.

*the cable box for resetting itself, again, for no apparent reason, which caused massive chaos, and screaming. Thanks RCN.

*my throat, for hurting. And making me not be able to talk above a raspy blah. I hate sick.

*my inability to bring myself to day drink. I could really use a pickle jar full of rum.

*the cat. Stop meowing at me. Especially during the 22 seconds of quiet I managed to find, when I distracted the boys with popcorn. Jerk.

*the dog. For puking the snow he ate, on the couch. Bigger jerk.

*the feeling I keep having that it's about 5 hours later than it really is. I almost started dinner at 10:48.

ugh.

Snow days.

This being the longest snow day, in the history of snow days, ever, we're kinda going nuts in here. Then we got a call saying school is closed til forever. Snow on the roof, and all that. 

But it's not all bad. Baduka decided to talk.

You should know, he has a large vocabulary, knows how to read, and can sing lots of songs, but mostly everything he ever says is scripted or copied. He almost never speaks his own words.

It started with, "school?" Sorry buddy, there's like all the snow ever, outside.

Then, "I go to school tomorrow?" Still sorry, but they found more snow.

Last night in the middle of a meltdown, "sorry!I'm sorry!sorry!" and that one almost broke my heart. He's never even copied an apology. 

As he was calming down, he asked for "car ride please?" I asked him where to? He said, "Auntie's house?" We made a video of it.

Today has been my favorite. His therapist is here for aba. I was talking to her in the kitchen, and he stood in the doorway, grabbed my hand, and said, "Mommy, come chase me please!" Then ran giggling down the hallway. Honestly, I could barely see through the tears to find him, so thankfully he was still giggling. 

Best.snow.day.ever.

a letter to Colleen

Dear Colleen,

How are you? I can't believe it's been a year, since that horrible phone call. I thought I had been preparing myself for it, but I was totally wrong. I still feel the dread in my stomach, that I felt when I saw your name come up on my phone that night. I guess nothing could have prepared me for the random ways you sneak into my head. And I find myself crying.

You show up a lot when I'm washing the dishes. Memories always hit me hardest there. Maybe it's because it's the one time of day where I am not being pulled in 3 crazy directions. I miss you so much. If I had known when we were younger that I would be writing something like this right now, I would have never been late. I swear.

I miss having you to text about TV shows. I cry at the end of every Parenthood, and not for the obvious reason of Parenthood makes everyone cry, but because I can't text you about Jasmine and how ridiculous she is. Or what is going on with Joel and Julia?! I also miss you when I can't be like, "are you watching the new show Marry Me?" because it's a great show and I think you'd love it.

I miss having you to share books with. I haven't read too much in the past year, and sometimes I think it's honestly because I miss recommending them to you after. Same goes for the movies. I went once this year, and I cried the whole car ride.

You were such a huge part of my life, in such small ways. It's true when people say, the little things are the important ones. Because I would kill for a text saying "I miss you, Gilmore Girls Night??" or a "Pencil me in for a pedicure??" I would do anything to make the drive to your house and park in front like a crazy person, walk in to a smile and a "Hi Jen!" and a few hours of wine, gossip, and TV either being ignored or watched quietly.

Memories fill my head and I think of you everyday. I miss you everyday. Thank you for coming to me sometimes, to let me know you still think of me. I will always treasure the cake message. It's printed out, and framed with my favorite picture of us at your wedding, and of you, that night we went to Margaritas, and you were wearing the giant ridiculous sombrero. I love you too.

I hope right now, you're wherever you want your Heaven to be today. I hope you stop by on your way there to say hi to people who need you today. I hope you know how much we love you.

Love you always,

Jennifer Anne

sweet relief of a school day

Finally, Christmas vacation has ended. I swear this was maybe the longest one ever. It wasn't bad, there weren't any injuries, not too many fights. It was just neverending. Even Baduka asked about school on Friday.

But the one that hated it the most, was Dizzy. He couldn't have taken one more day. I don't blame him, Baduka is a bit hard to get along with, sometimes, when it comes to TV.

Our TV has an automatic YouTube button. And it's Baduka's favorite button, ever. He spends hours if he can, watching whatever he finds interesting. Which isn't interesting for anyone else that lives here.

At one point last week, he went to put something on, and Dizzy stood in front of the TV, with his feet set, his angry eyebrows on, arms going, repeating, "NOOO MORE!"

I was right there with him. For real YouTube people? Who's idea was it to make videos of you playing video games? And swearing during the Monsters Inc one? Or opening chocolate surprise eggs? Why is that a thing? And old happy meal toys? That's what you choose to do with your time? Where do you even get enough material for these cinematic masterpieces?? And I hope you know YouTube video creators, it's mostly my kid who's been your viewer.

So anyway, today when the alarm went off, it was a bit of a relief. The New Kid and Baduka, got up with pretty much no problem, but Dizzy was taking his sweet time. I kept telling him he had to get up, we had to get changed, hurry,hurry,hurry. Nothing.

Know what shot that kid out of bed?? Telling him he had control of the TV when we got home from dropping off Baduka.