Bigger than a status update

Hi Friends, it's been a while since I last posted. I know, I know, you missed me. I just got into status posts, and stuff like that, because it's fast and easy.  But this story, this deserves a blog post. Because it's one of those, "I'll look back on it and laugh"s and I want to make sure I know where exactly to find it someday...

Baduka gets out of school everyday between 1:20 and 1:30. I always change the New Kid, find his clothes because he's always half dressed, then go pee, and leave the house by 1:10 at the absolute latest, even though we live one minute away. Today, the New Kid, followed me into the bathroom.

And slammed the door.

And said, "Mom, I locked it!"

Umm, what??!

That thing I tell you REPEATEDLY not to do, because the door lock is on the outside of the door, so an adult can get any trapped kids out? And I'm now the only adult in the house, trapped with you, New Kid??

But don't worry, I planned for this and stashed a screwdriver in the cabinet, that holds the mop I never use.

Oh, wait, what's that??

Someone took the screwdriver, but left the mop still unused?

Thanks.

Aaaaanyway. Let's begin panicking, shall we??

We have two windows in this bathroom. One opens, and is a one floor drop, to some rocks and sticks. And the other, is one of those push out kinds, with a screen I can't get out, that drops onto our back porch.

I look at the New Kid, and tell him I'm dropping him out of the window, onto the rocky ground.

He looks a combination of terrified and excited. Like, if this goes well, he might lock us in weekly.

Have I mentioned it's sleeting out?

I then rethink dropping him into the front part of our house, in case he can't get the door open, or gets hurt, or someone kidnaps him. They'd bring him back, but still.

So I cut the screen, and drop him onto the back porch.

He thinks it's the most fun he's ever had.

I tell him, go through the doggy door, and open the bathroom.

Doggy door is locked.

I tell him to go through the playroom door, into the house, and open the slider.

"Okay, Mommy!"

Comes back ten seconds later, "Mom, I can't do it, you open it!"

Seriously, New Kid. I WOULD HAVE IF I COULD HAVE.

At this point, I had already called school to make sure they didn't bring Baduka out, until I got there, and I'm tearing the bathroom apart, looking for anything to open the lock with. I mean, I already ruined a screen, and dropped a barefoot kid onto the back porch, in sleet. What's one more mess?

The only option now? Ripping the back panel off the door, and reaching my chubby arm between the slats, to unlock the door.

"MOM!! YOU DID IT!! GREAT JOB!"

Daddy thought it was hilarious when I called to tell him we need a screen, a bathroom door repair, and a new knob.

I should call him back, and tell him I need a fresh box of wine, too.

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.