Some days Baduka gets out of school emotional. I never really know what it's from either. Maybe something happened, maybe he doesn't feel good. He doesn't have the ability yet to tell me, and it's one of the harder things to accept with his autism.
Today was one of those days.
His teacher didn't mention a bad day, or anything happening, so there isn't any clue as to why he cried the whole way home, while repeating, "are you sure you want to quit?" I got him to calm down a little by telling him to go in and pick a freezepop color. It helped, but he was still a little upset.
I asked if he wanted to watch The Blue Umbrella from the Monsters University extras again. He smiled his first smile since we got home. Dizzy and the New Kid are pretty much over The Blue Umbrella, so I didn't have high hopes for this going well. He played it a few times, then prompted me to select the setup screen. All three are now happily on the couch, with their blankies and milk, watching Monsters University, with the subtitles and director's commentary on. No one is fighting. Dizzy even sat closer to Baduka, the way they like to sometimes.
Days like this I am so thankful I had two more maniacs. Sure, they fight constantly. And they think bodyslams are better than hugs. Goodness knows they hate sharing, anything, ever. But for Baduka to have two brothers by his side is something I know he will appreciate someday. They know him, they "get" him, they love him. And for that I will never be able to thank them enough.
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Friday, July 25, 2014
Don't do this. Thanks.
The other day at the playground, while I was standing guard at the gate, because the New Kid likes to full steam ahead his way through it, where he stops laughing hysterically at the sidewalk, a grandmother told me that Baduka had came to her, and said, "I want monkey bars, please!" He held his arms up, and smiled at her one of his best smiles. He has just recently figured out the joy of the monkey bars, and obviously doesn't care who he asks for help. I apologized, because he grabbed her hand and all that. It then turned into a conversation about him being autistic. She had lots of questions, and seemed truly interested, but something she said hit me weird, and I can't stop thinking about it.
She said, "it's good that he didn't get the severe kind, you know? He doesn't seem too afflicted. He's very social."
Like I said, she was nice, and old, and I didn't know how to say that she had no idea what life with him is like. So I didn't. I just answered her questions about school, and therapy, and hoped she would leave soon.
Because yes, he's social, but that means he'll ask any stranger at the park for help. He will also sit on random laps, and try playing with your phone. It's terrifying.
We were at the park, and usually only go to the park, because we have run out of every other thing to do that interests him. We have yet to figure out his favorite thing, besides the Nabi, which he broke by smacking it across the room, not 15 minutes before this park trip, because I didn't give him enough time to prepare for a park trip.
So days like today, no school, but with ABA later in the day, we have had nothing to keep him happy. My not too afflicted son has been up, down, around, and crazy since 7:30 this morning. We've finally had a bit of quiet while watching the Pixar short The Blue Umbrella on repeat, at least 13 times in an hour. Poor Dizzy keeps turning the tv off, and he finally on his own came to the kitchen to play PlayDoh, but Baduka followed him, stole the PlayDoh, licked it, and left Dizzy crying.
These are the kinds of days autism gives him. Restless. He can't answer what he wants to do, so he searches for it himself. It's exhausting.
I guess the point of all this, and if you got this far, is unless you live it, don't be that grandmother at the park. Ask questions if you want to know, but don't say it's probably not that bad. Because it makes us hate you.
She said, "it's good that he didn't get the severe kind, you know? He doesn't seem too afflicted. He's very social."
Like I said, she was nice, and old, and I didn't know how to say that she had no idea what life with him is like. So I didn't. I just answered her questions about school, and therapy, and hoped she would leave soon.
Because yes, he's social, but that means he'll ask any stranger at the park for help. He will also sit on random laps, and try playing with your phone. It's terrifying.
We were at the park, and usually only go to the park, because we have run out of every other thing to do that interests him. We have yet to figure out his favorite thing, besides the Nabi, which he broke by smacking it across the room, not 15 minutes before this park trip, because I didn't give him enough time to prepare for a park trip.
So days like today, no school, but with ABA later in the day, we have had nothing to keep him happy. My not too afflicted son has been up, down, around, and crazy since 7:30 this morning. We've finally had a bit of quiet while watching the Pixar short The Blue Umbrella on repeat, at least 13 times in an hour. Poor Dizzy keeps turning the tv off, and he finally on his own came to the kitchen to play PlayDoh, but Baduka followed him, stole the PlayDoh, licked it, and left Dizzy crying.
These are the kinds of days autism gives him. Restless. He can't answer what he wants to do, so he searches for it himself. It's exhausting.
I guess the point of all this, and if you got this far, is unless you live it, don't be that grandmother at the park. Ask questions if you want to know, but don't say it's probably not that bad. Because it makes us hate you.
Thursday, July 17, 2014
appreciate the unexplainable
I spend most days asking these children, "why are you doing that?!" I don't often get answers, but I still ask. Just in case.
Today, Dizzy dumped every toy on the floor. All of them. I asked why, but he just smiled, and growled a dragon at me. Okay.
But his last thing was to put every book from the bin on the chair. This time I didn't need to ask why, because he yelled, "Momma, look! Books! TAH-DAH!" Which yes, doesn't really answer why, at that moment, but it was actually the best thing he did all day...
Because, the New Kid. The New Kid decided today was Naked Day. He has trouble with days obviously, gets it from me, and kept taking off his clothes, gets it from Daddy. I dressed him several times, and he kept taking his clothes off. I came in from the other room, and sat down. Checked Facebook. Heard a strange, tinkly splash.
The New Kid peed in the book bin, that Dizzy emptied 10 minutes before.
He's a psychic. And we don't have to read urine soaked books later. It really is the little things that you learn to look forward to.
Today, Dizzy dumped every toy on the floor. All of them. I asked why, but he just smiled, and growled a dragon at me. Okay.
But his last thing was to put every book from the bin on the chair. This time I didn't need to ask why, because he yelled, "Momma, look! Books! TAH-DAH!" Which yes, doesn't really answer why, at that moment, but it was actually the best thing he did all day...
Because, the New Kid. The New Kid decided today was Naked Day. He has trouble with days obviously, gets it from me, and kept taking off his clothes, gets it from Daddy. I dressed him several times, and he kept taking his clothes off. I came in from the other room, and sat down. Checked Facebook. Heard a strange, tinkly splash.
The New Kid peed in the book bin, that Dizzy emptied 10 minutes before.
He's a psychic. And we don't have to read urine soaked books later. It really is the little things that you learn to look forward to.
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
Can't be good at everything...
I've decided something. I mean, I pretty much already knew this, but I've decided to put it in writing. I am TERRIBLE at potty training. I'm willing to be okay with this, because really? I'm pretty okay at a lot of other things.
My reasons? Well, Baduka is 4, Dizzy is almost 3 (Sunday,) and the New Kid is a year and a half. None of them want to pee in the potty. We've tried.
With ABA at home, they tried with Baduka for 2 weeks. He wore underpants. They had Spiderman and Pixar characters, to get him excited, Excited! He was so excited by this process, he peed everywhere, but the potty. Toys, books, my leg. At school he would pull down his pants, and twiddle his favorite toy, while walking with his pants around his ankles. We're back to diapers.
Dizzy convinced me to buy a potty at Target a few weeks ago. It was the Royal Prince version, and the box had a Try Me button, to hear the magical sounds it makes when a kid finally pees in the bowl. The whole time in the carriage they pressed that button, we got home, and they fought over pressing that button. I told them that if they peed in the potty, and put their poops in there, it would play that as a very fancy, "Yay! You did it!" They don't care, they took the music maker out from under the bowl, and promptly fought over who got to press it next. That Royal Potty now lives in our dark end of the hallway, because no one wants to sit on it, and I have no idea where the sound maker went.
In the bathroom we have one of those put on the adult seat, child seats, that hangs on the side of the bowl. They never get on it right though, and if you try to squish them back a little, they think you're attempting to flush them down the toilet, and cling to your arms for dear life. But anyway... Sometimes during tubby time they'll put it on the seat, and pretend to want to use it, but they don't. This morning though I had hope. I took Dizzy's diaper off and he had just a tiny spot of pee, and I knew he had more, so I brought him in the bathroom. He said, "potty?" I said, "yeah, let's put your pee in it!" He sat down, smiled, looked around, and peed straight across the seat, and all over my leg. Said, "all done, potty!" Got up, and walked out of the bathroom. He then turned around, said, "potty!" And peed all over the floor.
I believe me, and my peed on pants, are throwing in the pee soaked towels. Diapers for life.
My reasons? Well, Baduka is 4, Dizzy is almost 3 (Sunday,) and the New Kid is a year and a half. None of them want to pee in the potty. We've tried.
With ABA at home, they tried with Baduka for 2 weeks. He wore underpants. They had Spiderman and Pixar characters, to get him excited, Excited! He was so excited by this process, he peed everywhere, but the potty. Toys, books, my leg. At school he would pull down his pants, and twiddle his favorite toy, while walking with his pants around his ankles. We're back to diapers.
Dizzy convinced me to buy a potty at Target a few weeks ago. It was the Royal Prince version, and the box had a Try Me button, to hear the magical sounds it makes when a kid finally pees in the bowl. The whole time in the carriage they pressed that button, we got home, and they fought over pressing that button. I told them that if they peed in the potty, and put their poops in there, it would play that as a very fancy, "Yay! You did it!" They don't care, they took the music maker out from under the bowl, and promptly fought over who got to press it next. That Royal Potty now lives in our dark end of the hallway, because no one wants to sit on it, and I have no idea where the sound maker went.
In the bathroom we have one of those put on the adult seat, child seats, that hangs on the side of the bowl. They never get on it right though, and if you try to squish them back a little, they think you're attempting to flush them down the toilet, and cling to your arms for dear life. But anyway... Sometimes during tubby time they'll put it on the seat, and pretend to want to use it, but they don't. This morning though I had hope. I took Dizzy's diaper off and he had just a tiny spot of pee, and I knew he had more, so I brought him in the bathroom. He said, "potty?" I said, "yeah, let's put your pee in it!" He sat down, smiled, looked around, and peed straight across the seat, and all over my leg. Said, "all done, potty!" Got up, and walked out of the bathroom. He then turned around, said, "potty!" And peed all over the floor.
I believe me, and my peed on pants, are throwing in the pee soaked towels. Diapers for life.
Thursday, June 12, 2014
The power of comprehension
This morning Baduka woke up early. A little too early for my liking, but he's cute, and I needed a cuddle. I'm so happy he did though, because I finally had some one on one with him, to answer one of my questions about that beautiful head of his.
A few months ago, we realized he taught himself to read. But we weren't sure if it was all just memorization, or if he actually comprehended what he was saying. He can read books cover to cover. He can read signs, and text messages over my shoulder. He has a large vocabulary of words, and a play list of songs he sings all day long. But it's hard to tell what's just memorization and what's not, because he doesn't have normal, spontaneous speech. He can read the boxes, bottles, and labels, but he can't say, "mom, I'm thirsty." It's confusing, and a lot of times, very frustrating.
As we were laying cuddled up, I decided to test him. I opened a blank text, and typed in, "kiss mom". He read it out loud, smiled and kissed my cheek. I typed, "touch your eyebrows". He read it out loud, smiled and touched his eyebrows. I continued, with hide under the blanket, get a book, sing wheels on the bus. He did all of them.
I was in tears, even now I have goosebumps up and down my arms. I called Daddy, he didn't even know what to say, it's that amazing.
We got up to get ready. In the bathroom he turned on the light, I typed, "turn off the light please." He did. He climbed the stool, I typed, "feet on the floor, please." He climbed down. I typed to him, to brush his teeth, and wash his hands. He did that too.
We got to school, and I was telling his teacher about our morning. She looked so surprised, amazed, and happy. I hope he doesn't pull his stubborn act, and not do it for her.
After dropping him off, me, Dizzy, and the New Kid went to Target. Yes, that was me, the Ecstatic Autism Mom buying a label maker, labels, and more lamination. This kid will be able to read his entire house soon.
A few months ago, we realized he taught himself to read. But we weren't sure if it was all just memorization, or if he actually comprehended what he was saying. He can read books cover to cover. He can read signs, and text messages over my shoulder. He has a large vocabulary of words, and a play list of songs he sings all day long. But it's hard to tell what's just memorization and what's not, because he doesn't have normal, spontaneous speech. He can read the boxes, bottles, and labels, but he can't say, "mom, I'm thirsty." It's confusing, and a lot of times, very frustrating.
As we were laying cuddled up, I decided to test him. I opened a blank text, and typed in, "kiss mom". He read it out loud, smiled and kissed my cheek. I typed, "touch your eyebrows". He read it out loud, smiled and touched his eyebrows. I continued, with hide under the blanket, get a book, sing wheels on the bus. He did all of them.
I was in tears, even now I have goosebumps up and down my arms. I called Daddy, he didn't even know what to say, it's that amazing.
We got up to get ready. In the bathroom he turned on the light, I typed, "turn off the light please." He did. He climbed the stool, I typed, "feet on the floor, please." He climbed down. I typed to him, to brush his teeth, and wash his hands. He did that too.
We got to school, and I was telling his teacher about our morning. She looked so surprised, amazed, and happy. I hope he doesn't pull his stubborn act, and not do it for her.
After dropping him off, me, Dizzy, and the New Kid went to Target. Yes, that was me, the Ecstatic Autism Mom buying a label maker, labels, and more lamination. This kid will be able to read his entire house soon.
Sunday, June 1, 2014
true.
Things I know to be true:
* Sometimes a coat of paint is all you need.
* Boys are gross.
* When a kid with a speech delay spends months with early intervention, and you're the one that helps him the most, and he wakes up one day, says, "hi" to your good morning, and then when you go to hug him, he says, "I pooped." Well, that right there, is the best. No matter, how gross.
* Three boys in diapers means pretty much poop all day. It never ends.
* Being married to someone who knows when to save the last bite of a perfect sandwich for you, laughs at all your dirty, inappropriate jokes, doesn't make fun of the piece of hair that hasn't stayed in place for 2 days, and knows how to mix the perfect drink, is like winning the lottery.
* Making lunch while the kids are in the other room, leaving you alone for a few silent minutes, but being "supervised" by their dad, so you don't have to panic at every noise, is like a mini vacation. And on that vacation, if you choose to still hide under the snack shelf, and inhale cheese balls, who can really judge you?
There's probably a lot more that I know, but this is good enough for now.
* Sometimes a coat of paint is all you need.
* Boys are gross.
* When a kid with a speech delay spends months with early intervention, and you're the one that helps him the most, and he wakes up one day, says, "hi" to your good morning, and then when you go to hug him, he says, "I pooped." Well, that right there, is the best. No matter, how gross.
* Three boys in diapers means pretty much poop all day. It never ends.
* Being married to someone who knows when to save the last bite of a perfect sandwich for you, laughs at all your dirty, inappropriate jokes, doesn't make fun of the piece of hair that hasn't stayed in place for 2 days, and knows how to mix the perfect drink, is like winning the lottery.
* Making lunch while the kids are in the other room, leaving you alone for a few silent minutes, but being "supervised" by their dad, so you don't have to panic at every noise, is like a mini vacation. And on that vacation, if you choose to still hide under the snack shelf, and inhale cheese balls, who can really judge you?
There's probably a lot more that I know, but this is good enough for now.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
There's something strange going on around here...
It's not a hidden, deep dark, secret that kids are little weirdos, or anything, but mine reach levels of weird, that really make me question who I hang out with all day. Because they're really, very weird.
Like take Baduka, he has all sorts of strange going on. Some from autism, some from just being related to me (I totally understand his need to lick Tide Laundry Pods,) but his hatred of cuts and scabs is getting awkward. He picks scabs off, because he hates them, but that just creates new scabs. It's a neverending process. Goodness forbid, I have a blemish of my own. Then there was today. The other day Dizzy fell while holding a toy, and scratched a 2ish inch booboo onto his temple. They sat next to each other in the wagon at the grocery store. While I was dragging them around behind me, Baduka picked the scab off of it. Dizzy never said a word, or made a noise. Which means HE LET HIM. Why?!
Speaking of Dizzy, he spent 2 hours today wearing a t-shirt as pants. Seriously. Legs in the arm holes. Lost his mind when it fell down. It got to the point that I actually, pegged the waist, around his waist, to help it stay up. Which means I'm an enabler. I encourage the weird. And why? Because every time I said, "Want real pants?" He looked like he might cry, and answered back, with a lingering, "No". Who am I to judge his fashion sense? I haven't changed my shirt in 2 days.
And then there's our friend, the New Kid. He's found his own friend, the Penis, or PeePee, as he introduces it EVERY TIME I change his diaper. He then introduces whatever is around him, to his PeePee. Books, matchbox cars, puzzle pieces, cereal...
Sometimes I think they do these things so I question my own sanity. If it continues, should I crochet my own straitjacket?
Like take Baduka, he has all sorts of strange going on. Some from autism, some from just being related to me (I totally understand his need to lick Tide Laundry Pods,) but his hatred of cuts and scabs is getting awkward. He picks scabs off, because he hates them, but that just creates new scabs. It's a neverending process. Goodness forbid, I have a blemish of my own. Then there was today. The other day Dizzy fell while holding a toy, and scratched a 2ish inch booboo onto his temple. They sat next to each other in the wagon at the grocery store. While I was dragging them around behind me, Baduka picked the scab off of it. Dizzy never said a word, or made a noise. Which means HE LET HIM. Why?!
Speaking of Dizzy, he spent 2 hours today wearing a t-shirt as pants. Seriously. Legs in the arm holes. Lost his mind when it fell down. It got to the point that I actually, pegged the waist, around his waist, to help it stay up. Which means I'm an enabler. I encourage the weird. And why? Because every time I said, "Want real pants?" He looked like he might cry, and answered back, with a lingering, "No". Who am I to judge his fashion sense? I haven't changed my shirt in 2 days.
And then there's our friend, the New Kid. He's found his own friend, the Penis, or PeePee, as he introduces it EVERY TIME I change his diaper. He then introduces whatever is around him, to his PeePee. Books, matchbox cars, puzzle pieces, cereal...
Sometimes I think they do these things so I question my own sanity. If it continues, should I crochet my own straitjacket?
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