santa is okay with washing machines

Christmas Eve, Johnny woke around 3, having wet the bed. This has only happened two other times so far, and he was rather devastated. Still half-asleep, he bawled while I grabbed every blanket and pillow in sight, (he keeps an entire pile of them in his room, and at 3am, there is really no telling what all might have been affected) working entirely in the dark. We had a tussle over me taking away his "whites" to be washed with the rest of the blankets, as well as his stuffed Mario. He was sure he'd absolutely die if he didn't have them to sleep with for the rest of the night. I gently nudged him toward the bathroom and asked him to go try and see if he had to go any more ("I DON'T! It's ALL GONE!") while I ran the bundle down to the washing machine.

Coming back up the stairs, I grabbed a few blankets and pillows out of my own room (because I am just as much of a "comfy thing" hoarder as my son) and tossed them onto his bed before joining him in the bathroom. He was standing exactly where I had left him, whimpering softly while, as best I could tell, sleeping on his feet. I felt like the meanest person in the world having to make him endure getting cleaned up, but we got everything taken care of and I took him back to his room. He wasn't happy with the new blankets, ("I NEEEEEED MY WHITES!") but I convinced him that it was a special treat to have mommy's whites for a while. I turned on some music and was about to slip out the door when he sat bolt-upright, fully awake for the first time during the entire process. "But Santa won't come if we are washing clothes! You have to turn it off! NOW! Go turn it off!" The poor little guy was starting to panic.

I asked him why he thought Santa wouldn't come to our house if the washing machine was running. Repeating back to me my bedtime warning to him from a few hours before, he explained that Santa won't come if we are awake. I was confused. We weren't going to be awake. "Santa will THINK we are awake because he will hear the noise!" My heart broke at the sight of my sad little guy. I explained that it was all going to be fine, Santa is okay with washing machines and knows that sometimes people have accidents at night and need to wash things. He would still come, we just had to go back to sleep. I crawled into bed with Little Man for a minute and held him. I was relieved when he began to fall back to sleep quickly, and I snuck out of his room to go play my part as Santa and place all of the gifts under the tree. 

Christmas morning I woke and transferred the load into the drier before Johnny even made a peep. He actually slept until about 8:30, (late for him) and everything was good to go by the time he came downstairs. Johnny forgot all about his Santa worries, and spent his first minutes of Christmas searching for the Christmas Pickle. He even got a "Pickle Present" surprise when he found the ornament! The rest of the morning was spent laughing and excitedly forcing us all to pause every ten minutes mid-unwrapping to play with whatever new toy he had just opened. 

To date, we've had 8 Christmases with various family members and have one left to go on Thursday. It has been a wonderful holiday, and we have been very blessed. I was actually amazed that we made it the whole way through with Johnny still believing in Santa. A week or so after his first encounter with Santa at the mall, the local fire company sent Santa around his grandparent's neighborhood to visit with kids while we were at their house. As I had expected, Johnny noticed the difference, even in the dark. (Check out the video I took here!) Thankfully Santa rolled with it and was able to deflect Johnny's inquisition. So, this year remained a Santa Success! We will have to see what next year brings... 

Happy Holidays, everyone!

72 ways to make me puke

10 steps to potty train your child in only 3 days, guaranteed!

17 books your kid needs read before kindergarten!

15 ways you should show your child you love them!

12 steps to a calmer Christmastime!

18 things I wish I'd known before my kids were grown!

Seriously here people, why? There are not 10 steps to potty training your child in 3 days. Potty training is a highly individual experience and not all methods are going to work for all children. Your list of 17 books gets quite expensive, and the kid won't die if he enters kindergarten without having read them all. If it takes reading a list of 15 ways to show your kids that you love them, you're doing it wrong. 12 steps are for AA, not for being zen during the holidays. Take a deep breath and realize that no two Christmases are alike and that you just need to roll with it. I am glad you have 18 things you wish you had known when you were in my position, but part of parenting is learning to ignore the millions of "experienced" parents with endless advice that never fits your own situation. 

How has the internet become so overrun with this crap? While I appreciate that most of the people posting them honestly feel that they are helping the masses, it is complete bull. There is no magical solution for anyone's problems, and there certainly isn't a list that should dictate how they handle their very personal individual family situation. It isn't so much that these bloggers are specifically wrong or ill-intentioned, but the endless barrage of self-helpers who claim to have the solution are in fact placing pressure on young parents today. Even just 5 years ago, there wasn't this intense push for parents to be perfect. Our new social-media crazed world seems to think that judgment should be passed on every parent who isn't personally teaching their preschooler quantum mechanics while maintaining a Better Homes and Gardens house, running several bake sales and PTA meetings, coaching at least 3 children's sports teams, and never once raising their voice. Heaven forbid a parent be... hmm... let's go with human? 

Is it helpful to get ideas for helping potty train your child? Sure. 

Can you benefit from a list of age-appropriate books that your kid might be interested in? Of course.

Is it sometimes fun to find creative and different ways to share your love? I guess... but it shouldn't be that hard if you really love them. Even the most socially stunted people (like my Asperger's self?) can figure it out.

Could we all use a little relaxation during the Holidays? You bet! But there is nothing on these lists that aren't common sense.

Is there something wrong with sharing your aged wisdom? No, but stop expecting it to be relevant. We are raising children in an entirely different world than you did, and while some of the "basics" may remain the same, you have no idea what we are up against. In the same way, we can respect that you raised us in a world that we will never understand from a parenting perspective. However, when they say "times are more complicated" lately, they aren't joshin around. 

I guess my biggest problem is that all of these people seem to think that their life resembles mine. No one has walked in my shoes, and I haven't walked in anyone else's. Unless they quite literally want to take over my life for me for a good month to really get a feel for my circumstance, I'd rather they shut the heck up. There is just something so presumptuous about telling me that there is a sure-fire way to get what I want in life, especially when it comes to my child. Whatever happened to just living life and learning as we go?

I have my own bit of advice, take it or leave it: stop looking to everyone else for the answers. Not one single potty training method I found online helped my son, they only made me feel worse for having tried everything and "failed". Suggestions are one thing, but people have got to stop promising results if you just follow their list. Yes, no one was forcing me to read those blogs or articles, but at the same time, how can a young mom not be drawn to see if the latest "guaranteed" method for handling "problem x" in her life, when nothing else has worked? I wish there was a way to block these lists like my email blocks out spam. I'm sick of seeing them. I'd like to go back to the world that let parents figure things out on their own, with advice given when asked for instead of flooding them unsolicited at every turn. And for heaven's sake, stop with the judgment! It helps no one.

1 step to raising an awesome kid? Love them.

nekkid

Our most recent "challenge" with Johnny concerns his clothes. You see, traditionally, people wear their clothes. This fact is apparently too much for Little Man to comprehend...

In the middle of the day, randomly, he will walk downstairs after going potty and be in just his underwear. At GG's house, he will somehow mysteriously lose his pants. At his grandma's house, he recently returned from the bathroom with nothing on. When we ask him where his clothes went, we get a very literal description of where. When we ask him why his clothes have been taken off, he almost always answers with, "I didn't need them!"

Um, yes you do.

Now, some may say that this is payback for me. I am notorious for (when home alone, in the company of my husband or maybe my sister, not just random people) not being the best about making sure I'm entirely dressed. Pants are overrated in my opinion. Modesty has never really been something I've been concerned with, because we all have the same parts, and people can just chill out. I'm not saying I wear provocative clothing, I just tended to be the girl in college who didn't mind wearing only a towel between the bathroom and my bedroom.

When it was my kid running around Target without a shirt on while I chased after him, I began to have a more firm stance on what is appropriate and what isn't. More than anything, this stems from the need for him to understand that there are people in the world who might hurt him. I appreciate that he just now finished potty training, so underwear is still something exciting that he wants to show off, but he can't!

I think perhaps it is my fault in part for letting him spend half of the summer running around in nothing but his diaper. We were at home, alone, and it was hot. Like, really hot. I didn't even think about the fact that I was setting the precedent for how clothing should be regarded. Of course I clothed him when we were leaving the house to go somewhere, but how could he know why I chose to make him wear clothes in one circumstance and let him run around without clothes on the rest of the time? So, it really is my fault. However, I'm not entirely sure how to change his mindset now that he keeps stripping in public. Nothing I say seems to get through to him.

I would also like to note that there is a mound of snow as high as my front door in our yard right now. How is he not cold?! I would have thought that at least winter would discourage such displays. Our house hovers around 63 degrees during the winter months, often prompting me to wear a hoodie. I'm not quite sure how I am going to convince the kid to cover up, but it has to be done!

santa

I have been lucky so far... Johnny still seems to believe in Santa. We didn't take him to see Santa at the mall last year because he was afraid of costumed characters (the Nittany Lion scared him half to death at the time) and so he didn't really seem to care whether or not there was a Santa and what he supposedly did. This year however, Johnny has gotten over his fear of people who are dressed up. He directly asked the Nittany Lion at a hockey game earlier this year, "Did you eat someone?" because he could see the person inside of the lion's mouth since that is how the poor guy is supposed to see. Johnny was so casual and conversational about it, as if the answer being "yes" wouldn't phase him in the slightest. The Nittany Lion couldn't help but laugh, even though he isn't supposed to make any sound, and he gave Johnny a high-five before moving on.

Anyway, all of this is to say that we took Johnny to meet Santa this year. After a nice half hour wait, (which isn't that bad, honestly) we were able to have our turn. Parents aren't supposed to film or take pictures of kids with Santa, because the mall makes money off of the photo packages they sell. Well, I didn't have the money and honestly didn't care so much about a photo as I did capturing the conversation my highly inquisitive son would likely be having with Saint Nick. So, I held my phone in my pocket with the camera lens exposed and filmed it that way. The quality of the film it's self is horrible, but I was indeed able to catch the quite awesome first-encounter moment.

Our Santa was perhaps the most amazing one ever! Despite it being quite a while past the end of his shift by the time our end of the line finally tromped through, the man was jovial and enthusiastic. He was incredibly sweet, and he took plenty of time to chat with each kid. These are my favorite parts from their conversation:


Johnny: "I'm Johnny."
Santa: "I knew what your name was. Didn't you think I knew what your name was?"
Johnny: "Did you know I'm on your list?"
Santa: "You're on my good list! Did you know that?"
Johnny: "What's on your bad list?"
Santa: "Bad list? Oh, I usually don't have a bad list."
Johnny: "Then where's your bad list?"
Santa: "Everybody has been good this year! Do you know what you want for Christmas?"
Johnny: "Uh huh."

~ * ~

Santa: "Tell me what you want for Christmas."
Johnny: "Did you know I give you some wrapping paper for presents? Angry Birds..."
Santa: "No! Do you really?"

*** I proceeded to explain that Johnny wants to send up wrapping paper so that Santa could wrap his presents in the special Angry Birds wrapping paper we found at the store. Note: this was entirely Johnny's idea, but I love it, because it means I don't have to get different paper for him. He is, after all, the kind of kid who would catch on to things if his presents were all wrapped in the same paper we used to wrap all of the family's gifts! Last year everything Santa brought him was wrapped in purple paper, so he knew exactly what was his and was still able to be a part of the wrapping process for the gifts we were giving. I really want to make sure that each Christmas, Johnny is as involved in the giving as he is in the receiving of presents, if not, more so.

~ * ~

Santa: "What would you like for Christmas?"
Johnny: "Angry Birds"
Santa: "What else?"
Johnny: "Angry Birds Star Wars, Lego Angry Birds..."
Santa: "Did you make a list?"
Johnny: "Yes"
Santa: "We'll take a look at it, okay? And can I bring you some stuff that's not on your list? Can I surprise you?"
Johnny: "You bring something that's not on my list, okay?"

~ * ~

Santa: "Do you got a stocking? Did you put a Christmas stocking up?"
Johnny: "We have a stocking. And guess what? You can also put them under the tree! If you don't have room..."
Santa: "Okay, alright."

~ * ~

Santa, handing Johnny an ornament: "Here you go, buddy. Look at this! Easy on it, tell mommy this will fall out of there (the backing)... you can put a picture in it and hang it on your tree."
Johnny, bringing the ornament to mommy, 2 feet away: "This will fall out of here. This will fall out."


After I turned off the camera, Johnny proceeded to go back to Santa and remind him: "But REMEMBER! Christmas is on twenty-five, okay? You come and bring presents to open on twenty-five. Remember, okay?"

I love my little guy so much! His repetitive speech, trying to both process information himself and make sure everyone else understands, his obsessive interests, the need to reassure himself and everyone else that things are exactly the way they should be... he is too cute! By his age, I had spent half of my life not believing in Santa. I literally called the guy out who tried to pass himself off as the old man. I told him that if he was Santa, (he was really the neighbor's uncle stopping for a surprise visit, and was sent over for the girl next-door as well because they thought it would be nice: little did they know) then he should be able to tell me what I asked for at the mall. I also wanted to know where his reindeer were, why he wasn't at the North Pole working like he should be, and why he would go anywhere without his sleigh. The poor guy had no idea he would be facing the Spanish Inquisition when he came to talk to a 2-year-old, but seeing him solidified my non-belief. My sisters, as a result of growing up with a very black-and-white minded older sibling, were never really given the chance to believe in Santa themselves. I was too young to understand that I was ruining something special for them, and just felt that people shouldn't lie because lying is bad.

Luckily my little dude hasn't figured all of this out yet. I seriously do believe that he would pick up on it if we took him to a different Santa after having met this other guy, and using the same wrapping paper would totally tip him off if it weren't for the fact that he himself decided to send some to Santa so that he could have the Angry Birds gift wrap he picked out for everyone else. After all, he did call out the Nittany Lion already. Most kids I know in this town didn't realize that there was a person inside of that suit until they were much older. That, or they saw the man inside (like my aunt did) and were scared to death of the lion that eats people.

At leasts for this year, Johnny believes in Santa. I will be interested to see when and how he comes to the realization that the wonderful man we met at the mall was in fact a guy named Frank who spends the rest of his year enjoying his retirement, here in State College.

brains that work differently

Johnny came home yesterday to tell me that there is a new kid in his class. This new kid "sticks out his tongue when he is happy?!" I opened my email to find that Autumn had filled me in a little more: the child has down syndrome. Apparently Johnny was having a rough time handling the new addition, as he makes dramatic (and in Johnny's eyes, rude) facial expressions and doesn't follow any of the rules. Autumn had explained that he wasn't being rude to classmates, it was his way of showing everyone that he is happy. We had a chat at dinner time about how everyone has a brain that works differently from the next person, and that this new kid's brain is just more noticeably different. (The rest of the explanation will come at a later age...) I talked about how he is going to show that he is happy in ways that Johnny isn't used to, and that as a member of the class who knows all of the rules already, Johnny needed to not only be patient with the new kid, but understand that he might never follow the rules completely. I charged him to be a big helper and be friendly to the new boy, because it can be just as hard to not know or understand the rules as it is to have a friend near you that isn't doing what you know they should be doing.

Johnny, Steve and his dad had been teasing me for all of dinner that I am crazy for not wanting ketchup on my baked macaroni and cheese like they do, so I told Johnny that maybe I don't like that taste because my own brain registers the taste as yucky to me, but that he tastes something yummy. He then sang me a song about trying new foods, so despite my insistence that I've tried it multiple times before, I ended up taking a bite of Steve's ketchup-covered pasta. "Nope! I still don't like it!" I made a silly face at him and then told him that my brain might never decide that macaroni and ketchup tastes good, just like his classmate might never understand that sticking his tongue out is something that other people sometimes find offensive. Just like Johnny still loves me even if I don't like his preferred meal alteration, (it really is gross) Johnny needs to be nice and polite to the boy whose brain doesn't work the same way his does. 

I am hoping that at least some of what I had to say got through to Johnny and his day at school goes a little differently than yesterday. He seemed open to the idea, so with a little luck and some help from Autumn and Ashleigh, this rough adjustment might just be manageable without the new kid being subjected to Johnny's own rudeness. (Which, if he were older, I'd be able to explain as being pretty much the same thing as the boy sticking his tongue out-- he isn't trying to be rude, but his actions are perceived as rude. He doesn't realize this because his mind works in a way that gives him the need to make sure everyone has the same expectations placed on them in all things!) 

How (and when) will I go about explaining to Johnny that he has autism? Being so far on the one end of the spectrum, it is something he will definitely be able to fully grasp, once he is old enough. If he is anything like myself, (which he continues to prove he is) he will hopefully be able to embrace and even thrive in the understanding of his own mind. But when is he old enough? When will it be something he should hear? I would have killed to know and understand why and how I was different when I was a child. I had no explanation, and I was just "that weird kid". Had I been diagnosed much younger, I think my self esteem would have been higher and I wouldn't have been as bothered by what the other kids said; I would have known that I am just different. That sounds incredible to say of my child self, as most kids might be upset if told that their brain is abnormal. But if you understand how my brain works in it's overly-rational way, the rational reaction to my diagnosis would have been exactly that. I am different. I am almost always smarter, I have abilities that other people can't even begin to comprehend, and I have more to offer the world than anyone realizes. I don't have a disability, I have an ace up my sleeve. 

I can't fully express what it was like to be told I have autism as an adult. It is something I chewed over and over in my head for months after I was diagnosed, and on some days I still don't quite know how to juggle this idea in my head. I am not the face of autism. I am not what people expect. At the same time, there is no doubt of my diagnosis. The everyday person might not see it, but my coping mechanisms for dealing with stress, anxiety, depression or over-stimulation (which I experience quite often) involve the stereotypical autistic behaviors. Rocking back and forth, the need for physical compression, (a tight hug, hiding under a mountain of pillows, having something heavy sitting in my lap) the tendency to gravitate toward swings for that kind of movement, obsessively trying to find and experience a new texture if the last thing I touched/ate didn't sit well with me, needing someone to scratch/draw on my back to calm me... they are all hallmark signs pointing to the spectrum. I've just gotten really good at hiding them in public. 

I have, over my 26 years, made some of these things seem almost normal, even to the people closest to me. I've always wanted my back scratched, I remember paying my sisters to do it for me when I was a kid. I've always sat with several pillows in my lap whenever possible when engaging in conversation or watching a movie. I had a mountain of stuffed animals that grew to be a pile of pillows on my bed under which I have always slept. No one thinks twice about the girl who spends a lot of time spinning around in an office chair or swinging on swings when she is trying to concentrate... it isn't a totally abnormal behavior, especially considering the fact that the upright hammock my family owned was a blast (I used to spend hours there). The rocking might be a little more absurd among mixed company, but you won't typically notice because I usually have a kid on my lap and it seems natural. Ask my husband, I don't go to sleep at night without sitting there and rocking for a while; I've always done this. As a kid, it just came off as antsy. So individually, none of my behaviors seem "off" to most people. Add them up, and it becomes clear that they are all ways in which I cope. In addition to other elements, I am most definitely on the spectrum. 

I think part of what is hard for me to fully reconcile about the diagnosis is that when I was a kid, autism wasn't considered something people could live independently with. The autistic kid at school was always expected to spend the rest of his life depending on someone else, if he ever moved out of the house. The autistic kids weren't dating material; no one thought they would get married. They were much closer to the middle if not low end of the spectrum. People as "high functioning" as me weren't really ever on the radar. While some of the autistic kids were considered incredibly smart, it came with the imbalance of appearing uninterested in having friends and having socially debilitating coping mechanisms. Until more recently, and even now, kids who are "high functioning" are expected to have no social inclinations at all. This is simply untrue! Even the ones who don't comprehend when someone is making fun of them I can promise you do catch the gist of it every now and then and are always confused by it. And believe me, there is no doubt about my son's diagnosis yet he remains one of the most social kids in the universe. He may not always socialize successfully with other kids, but he sure wants to! 

So, when should I tell him? How do I tell him? What is it, exactly, that would make him "ready" to hear and understand? Will it be hard for him? Will it be a relief like it was to me? Will it be helpful to know that mommy is the same way? 

I don't know.

thanksgiving & black friday

Thanksgiving this year consisted of Steve, Johnny and myself. Just us 3! My mom's side of the family was in Houston this year, my dad was with Deb's family, and Steve's family was in Philly. Considering Steve had to work before the crack of dawn the next morning, we decided to just stay home and have our own little Thanksgiving celebration. We watched some of the parade, caught a little football action on and off throughout the day, and even went to see Frozen in the theater!

Technically, I'd call our Thanksgiving adventure Johnny's first actual movie theater experience. He went with the Delafield side of the family to see The Proposal when he was about 3 months old, since we all wanted to go and there was no point in hiring a sitter when an infant is free to take in. It was a mid-summer matinee, and as we predicted, no one there but ourselves. When he was just a little over a year old, we went to see Despicable Me with some family and again were without a sitter, but just the same it was again a mid-summer matinee and there weren't many people there. Johnny started to get fussy (obviously not watching the movie) about a half hour in, so Steve and I just took turns pacing in the hallway outside of the screening with the door propped open so we could still see what was going on. Thursday however was Johnny's first real movie. We of course sprung for the insanely expensive popcorn to enjoy the experience in it's full glory, half of which Johnny promptly spilled all over the floor, and found some perfect seats in an almost-empty screening room. Johnny wore his headphones for the first 3/4 of the film, and then since kid's movies are never turned up quite as loud as adult flicks, his ears had adjusted enough that he was able to watch the last bit of the movie without them on. The Steeler's game ended our little Thanksgiving, and the kid slept in the next day until almost 10:30.

Black Friday: Yes, I'm one of those parents who took my kid shopping with me on the most insane day of the year in the world of retail. In all fairness, I didn't have a list or anything in particular I was looking for, and when Little Man got tired, we went home. We just ventured out to look for good deals and do his part of the Christmas shopping. While it took a little persuasion for me to convince him that after our 20 minute look through Kohls that it wasn't worth waiting in line for 2 hours to pay for the $3 fleece blanket that he wanted, I was able to convince him that we could buy one elsewhere for about the same price without a line. (And we did!)

The best part of the day by far was going to the Dollar Store to let him pick out stuff for everyone. I gave him a whole list of people to buy for, and wrote down who was getting what as he stuck it in the cart. Gifts included things such as: a neon pink ski hat for my father, "Grandpa Without the Mustache": mardi gras beads for my 15 year old cousin, Wally; a large ornament shaped cut-out made of felt for his grandma; and a 2-pack of reindeer antler headbands for Steve's dad, "Grandpa With the Mustache". I am so excited that he is old enough to do his own shopping like this! It is too much fun!!! I remember my parents taking me to the Dollar Store to pick out Christmas presents when I was his age, and I think that the tradition of allowing us kids to be involved in gift-giving from such an early point in our lives is what turned me into such a Christmas nut. (I'm one of those people who is usually finished shopping by August and any deals found on Black Friday are just an additional bit of joy or used for later birthday presents! Don't worry though-- I'm not one of those people playing Christmas songs by November 1st and watching all of the TV specials before Thanksgiving is even over!)

Overall, our holiday weekend was quite lovely. I got a chance on Saturday to FaceTime for about 2 hours with one of my best friends who is all the way over in South Korea. Yesterday we began attending a new church, which was very welcoming, and then had a small-ish Thanksgiving celebration at my mom's house with her and her husband, my stepbrother, and my sister Christy and her boyfriend. It wasn't our typical overly-rushed family-intense holiday, but I think I kind of like how it turned out. After all, we'll see all of those same people we missed in less than a month, anyway. It was kind of nice having some time with just my boys.

being an autistic parent with SPD

I'm a "huggy" person. I don't go up to people and hug them without their permission, and I only want hugs from close friends or family when done on my own terms, but I am indeed a very physically affectionate person. Just ask my husband, who is forced to deal with my constant need for snuggling. It came as no surprise to me that when my son wants to show affection, he is also a very physical individual. There is nothing wrong with that, we have just had to work with him on when it is appropriate to give hugs and kisses and when he needs to keep his hands (and lips) to himself. He hasn't figured out that some grown men are uncomfortable with kisses from a little boy, and he seems to think hugs and kisses with "new friends" that he just met are totally acceptable. It's a work in progress. Overall, it isn't too big of a deal, since we keep a close eye on him and help redirect with more appropriate parting sentiments when hugs and kisses aren't ideal. The only time it becomes a problem is when he is sick...

Right now, my kid is sick. Because he is sick, I have kept him home. The problem is that like most kids, Johnny becomes much more "cuddly" when he doesn't feel well. In the past 48 hours, we have spent A LOT of time together, just the two of us, and even as I type this he is literally hanging on me and -- yep-- there is another kiss. I have received at minimum 1,000 kisses today. No one would usually consider this a problem, (aside from the obvious germ-passing issue, but you figure that two people in such close proximity would have plenty of germs spread between them, regardless) but just like my son, I have Sensory Processing Disorder. I cannot stand for people to touch my face. This seems in direct opposition of my professed physically affectionate self, but kisses are different than hugs! KEEP AWAY FROM MY FACE!!!

I'm trying very hard to cherish all of the kisses, as I know the days are numbered before he stops wanting to give them to me. However, as we reach the end of day 2 in cuddleville, I am really struggling with the abundance of kisses. This isn't a hardship of autism parenting: what "normal" parent would be upset with getting kissed so much by their adorable child? This is a hardship of being an autistic parent. How do you tell your child to STOP showing you that they love you? You can't. So I am gritting my teeth and steeling myself against it and doing everything in my power to not get upset when my son kisses me over and over. I know it sounds ridiculous, but just picture that one thing in your life that makes you the most physically uncomfortable and have it happen repeatedly ad nauseam. The sound of nails on a chalkboard? That insanely itchy tag in your shirt that you can't remove until you get home? Someone stepping on the back of your feet, giving you a flat tire with every step? That person who won't stop tapping their leg/hand/etc. in an all-day meeting? The kid kicking the back of your seat on an airplane? None of these even come close. It makes me feel horrible to say that my son giving me kisses even remotely like such annoyances, but after the first 10, I have a REALLY hard time with it. If he wasn't my son, he wouldn't have gotten past the first one.

I have taken approximately 7 minutes to write this, with Johnny hanging off of my shoulder and interrupting every few seconds for another kiss. Total count since I started typing? 61. The boy needs to start feeling better soon... for the both of us.

social stories with angry birds

Johnny and I had a wonderful project to keep us busy yesterday. It started the night before, after he went to sleep, when I collected all of the things needed and printed/cut out the following template: "Don't Be An Angry Bird Book". I was so excited when I found this nice little social story, as Angry Birds are Johnny's favorite thing in the whole world and have remained his primary obsession for the past 2 years. What could be better than finding a social story that is relevant to his interests? All of the stick figure and horrible cartoon character social stories seem to not hold his attention when we have worked with them, but Angry Birds?! Emotional regulation is the #1 goal for Johnny right now, so learning ways to calm down when he is angry has been a huge focus in our house.

After gluing the template cut-outs to colorful construction paper, I worked with Johnny as he colored in the pictures and brainstormed answers to the questions at the bottom of each page:

What words can I say when I am angry?
What can I do with my face when I am angry?
What should I do with my body when I get angry?
What should I do with objects when I am angry?
Why does deep breathing calm us down?
Where can I go when I get angry?
How does being an angry bird hurt myself and others?
Who are some people that can help me calm down when I am angry?
How should I treat other people when I am angry?
Why wouldn't we want to spread our anger to other people?
What makes me angry?
Where can I redirect my anger?
How can I forgive someone who has made me angry?

He came up with his own answers to each one and then wrote them in all by himself. It was a somewhat tedious process as he is still working on spelling based off of what I write down on a separate piece of paper for reference. As he was coloring and writing, I was laminating the pages of our book. We worked in tandem for most of the morning, and by the time he was ready to get on the bus, we had done all but bind the book. When he got home, we cut 3 holes down the sides of each page, then connected them all together with binder rings. He couldn't be more proud of himself! We took it with us to GG and Pap Pap's house so that he could read it with them, and he is taking it to school with him today.

Having Johnny be a part of the process of making the book not only by coloring in the pages, but also through helping write part of the story, was in my opinion the most important part of our exercise. The work was twofold: he both was forced to truly ponder and focus on ways to calm his body, and he was also personalizing the book to match his own understanding and preferences for cooling down. I could tell it was important to him by the way that he stuck with the project for so long. He was determined to make it the "best book ever!" and finish as much of it as he could before school.

True to form, I had to explain that while the book was talking about angry birds, it was actually referring to him. When it had phrases such as "cool down" it actually meant calm down, not finding a way to lower his body temperature. For a while there, he was convinced that the best way to cool was to go swimming... I love how my boy's mind works!

world's most beautiful turkey

"Mommy! I'm THE MAN! I pooped on the potty!" When he was born, I never thought potty training would still be a part of our daily lives when Johnny was 4 1/2. And yet, despite all of the struggle since he turned 2 and we started this ordeal, I'm kind of amazed. He may hold the world record in time spent actively trying to potty train, but he also is one of the world's most incredible people, in my mind. After such a long battle, he has finally done it. And it wasn't a battle of me vs. him-- it was a battle he was having with his own body. I'm so incredibly proud of him, and while I think I would have been proud of his 2-year-old self had he potty trained way back then, I think that pride that comes after such hard work is much more important than if he had simply hit the next stage of development, no big deal.

I has hit me: this is what it will be like. Johnny, setting goals, (or having us set them for him, depending on the issue) and fighting his way forward until he finally succeeds. Yes, with any kid I expected this general pattern, but with Johnny we may experience some more unusual goals or experience stages in a different order than most. Most importantly it hit me that none of his development is about me. My own struggle over the past few years has been internal conflict when it comes to my son's difficulties.

Do I support him? 100%
Do I love him no matter what? 100%
Do I understand how his mind works? 94%
Do I remember life at his age and my own struggles? 100%
Do I remember how people made me feel when I failed? 110%
Am I embarrassed by my son?...

I don't know about other parents of children with "high functioning" autism, but when my son comes across to most people as developmentally normal, it is sometimes easy for me to be self-conscious about the one or two glaringly obvious issues that might not seem to have context for outsiders. You can't look at my son and "see" that he has autism, even when observing his general behavior for a short while. You can look at my son (up until 2 weeks ago) and see that he is still in diapers at 4 1/2. To most people, this is a red-flag for a parenting fail. She didn't start trying while he was young enough, she hasn't tried hard enough, she hasn't read the literature and learned different methods, whatever method she is using it clearly isn't working, she's not very invested in helping him develop, obviously. 

I will (sadly) admit that there were times where I not only wanted to give up on trying to help him potty train altogether, but was embarrassed to have to take my 4 year old out of the play place at Chick-fil-A to get his stinky diaper changed. I felt like that reflected poorly on me, regardless of the valid reason for our situation. But what I was forgetting was that it wasn't our situation: it was his. Not in the sense that he was being left to figure it all out on his own, but his potty training wasn't about me. Worse than anything, I lost sight of what it is like to be Johnny. The kid is practically my clone, and I know how it felt to be treated the way I have treated him over the past year surrounding this issue. I encouraged him, I never yelled at him for failing to make it to the bathroom, (though I did ask "why?" and often with frustration) I never punished him for being unsuccessful... but I was, when I am 100% truthful, embarrassed by him at times. He may only be a preschooler, but he is smart enough to know when someone isn't "right" with him. As much as I struggle to understand emotions in other people, I know when something is off. I may not know why or how, but I know when someone is being different around me or acting differently in accordance to my actions. As a kid, and now as an adult, it makes me feel like crap. So to know that I may have made my kid even the slightest bit aware of the fact that I wasn't okay with him being who he is makes me feel horrible. God, I pray that he never noticed.

I am ashamed of myself. I am this kid's #1 supporter, complete and utter powerhouse defense and ragingly protective mother, yet somewhere along the lines I made his experiences about me instead of him. At some point, the explanation of why he is developing differently became something I felt was necessary to voice in defense of myself instead of just allowing him to be who he is, without needing a reason. I got caught up in feeling judged by other parents, even the ones I know in my heart weren't judging me, (Erin Leigh) and I became defensive. What I failed to see was that my son didn't need defending in this matter. He simply needs a mom who loves him and is fine with who he is, no matter the reaction of others.

My son develops differently than most. I do too. How on earth did I end up being the person who wasn't okay with that?

Today I received a text message from his teacher. She sent me a picture from school, where Johnny has proudly created the "world's most beautiful turkey!" He and I may be turkeys in a hen house, but at least we are different together. I need to make sure I don't lose sight of that again, because I've got the world's most beautiful one standing right beside me, and his is a life of unique moments that I don't want to miss.

big boy stuff

Johnny has had an awesome week. Monday, he made the change from pull-ups (which we always called diapers to try and make them seem as "little kid" as possible) to underwear, and he hasn't even had an accident yet. Without fail, he has used the toilet exclusively for almost 2 full weeks now, the second of which in underwear. We are all quite impressed, and it shows me that once he makes up his mind to do something, it happens. I'm just glad he has finally decided to make this change!

Thursday was Halloween, and we had a busy evening. We trick-or-treated at the mall, (in the light, nice and warm, with candy I didn't have to "check") went to our church's "Autumn Extravaganza" that had everything from bounce houses to games to a professional photographer to capture all of the costumes on film, and then trick-or-treated at the grandparent's houses. Johnny did enormously well with the fact that he wasn't allowed to have any of the candy he collected, (due to all of the sugar-- which he doesn't eat) and we gave him several sugar-free mini Reese's cups throughout the evening. The next morning he tried to convince us that he had to take all of the sugary candy he got into school to give to his teacher, because she had jokingly told the kids to bring her anything they got and didn't like. She said she felt bad about the fact that he took it seriously, but it is just a part of the deal with my little dude. No biggie! We were able to refocus him on something else and he moved on quite nicely.

Last night my mother-in-law and sister-in-law took Johnny for the night. He had dinner, a movie and a sleepover with them, and Steve and I had a Numb3rs marathon. We were informed pretty late yesterday evening that he had pooped on the potty, and I promised him a prize when I came to pick him up. This morning, I got a FaceTime call from him to say that he had done it again. I took the question mark prize box with me, and he found a book in it the "first time" he looked, (he made me take turns, not put two in at once) and a Spider Man costume the second time. Yay Target 50% off Halloween! He has been dressed up ever since. We went to GG's to watch some of the Penn State game, and then made our way home.

In 2 weeks we will be having a Potty Party for Johnny. To celebrate the end of his long journey through the land of potty training, we will have a party with all of the people who were instrumental in the process. He is so excited! The arrival of the party day will also mark the end of the prizes he has been getting as incentives to go. He will then have been in underwear for 3 weeks, and I figured that a party was a good way to end them. I expect him to fight me a bit on it, but I don't think that after going so long without using pull-ups he will even ask to use them again. Either way, he won't get them. Hopefully the final transition won't be too bad. I'm excited to celebrate with him, and I think we will get him some special new underwear as a present. My little man is finally a big boy!

the 'burgh

We took a little trip to Pittsburgh for the weekend. Little dude did pretty well over all, though he chose to test my patience once or twice. Saturday we took him to one of my favorite places in the whole world when I was his age: the Carnegie Science Center. My grandma (his GG) used to take me there whenever we went to Pittsburgh to visit other family. As I expected, the kiddo was in his element. All of the hands-on things to play with had him excited and he even ignored some of the things that would have typically set him off. He even went through a submarine (which required him to walk over grates where you could see the floor below-- something that scares the daylights out of him) and found a way to face his fears. After stopping off for a wonderful dinner on the way home, we all piled on the couch to watch Tangled before bed.

Today we went to several places for Christy to look at possible puppies to adopt. She has decided she isn't 100% committed yet, but wanted to get a sense for what her options are. I was proud of the kid for how well he did when he was having a difficult time with a very loud dog room at the Humane Society. He got upset and shouted to me (so I could hear him over the noise) but didn't scream or throw a tantrum. I forgot to take his little earmuff things, and that was my bad. I felt horrible that I had spaced on bringing them, even after having earlier mentioned to Christy that it would be a good idea if I did. Oh well, he was a trooper!

Now we have made it home and the cold I was starting to get when we arrived in Pittsburgh is now full-blown. I'm glad we came back before I got too bad, because now I can't breathe and I have a headache, sore throat: the works. Off to bed I go...

pottys & parties

It has been a very full weekend for the little dude. Friday night we went to Bellefonte to ride the Halloween Train with my dad and his girlfriend. They had replaced the lights inside with colored ones, decorated the windows and filled the cars with volunteers who walked around telling jokes and handing out candy to the kids. For as excited as Johnny was about the train ride, he wasn't able to keep his eyes open for more than the first 20 minutes of the hour long event. By the time we returned to town, he had enjoyed a decent nap and was wired again.

After driving back to State College, we went to catch the tail end of Steve's sister Sue's wedding rehearsal dinner. There were a lot of people there, and somewhere along the line Johnny found some toys to play with. He had a blast, but was excited to go home... because he had a prize waiting for him! Johnny went the entire day (from the night before, actually) in the same diaper! We fussed over him a lot and he won a cool new book and temporary pirate-themed tattoos. 

The next day was the wedding. We had a lot of errands to run, but Johnny used the potty at Kohl's when he said he needed to go. I bought him the cutest little "formal" outfit to wear for the evening. When we got home from shopping he napped for a while, then we got ready to go. For having been at the wedding from about 4:45 until almost 9:00, I was impressed with the little dude!!! He didn't talk during the ceremony, he didn't throw a fit at any point, he used the potty twice, and he ate his dinner. We brought noise-canceling headphones (like you wear at the shooting range) with us because I knew that the DJ's equipment in the smaller ballroom was going to be quite loud. Johnny did ask for them and ended up wearing them the majority of the time we were in there. Boy, did he dance! He asked the DJ to play "What Does the Fox Say?" for him, but the DJ had no idea what he was talking about. (For someone working in the music business, I'm kind of ashamed for him...) Anyway, the evening came to a close and he was, yet again, in a dry diaper all day. With another new book and a small jar of "slime" to play with, he went to bed happy. 

We ended our weekend today with both a brunch at Grandma Dotty's and then a birthday party this evening at the neighbor's house. Unfortunately, mid-party Johnny informed me that he hadn't made it a third day in a row in a dry diaper. I was bummed. But really, two and a half days without an accident is actually by far the most impressive toilet-training experience in his life so far, so I can't complain. Add in the other day earlier this week that he went without needing changed and I think he has made some serious advancements in the world of potty-ness. (I can make that a word, right?) I am hoping that in the next few days I'll be able to talk him into trying at least a few hours in underwear. As I reminded him, I wasn't kidding when I said I would throw him a party when he is completely potty-trained! 

overwhelmed

Yesterday was one of those days where every single bad thing about my life felt impossible to ignore or overcome. As someone who is medicated to help with mood stabilization, my meds apparently took the day off (despite knowing I hadn't forgotten them that morning and haven't missed a dose in weeks). Obviously I'm not about to spill all the ins-and-outs of my situation to the entire internet, but suffice it to say that I've been dealing with more than my fair share of negative circumstances, and I was feeling extremely alone in my suffering. While my life is returning to "normal" in terms of my ability to take on menial tasks such cleaning some of the house and helping the kid with his projects, my emotions seem to have gone in the opposite direction. Countless people have warned me that at some point a few weeks after losing the baby, this would happen. The thing is, it happened immediately with my first loss. This time, while I was definitely upset and depressed when it first occurred, I seem to have hit an emotional wall head-first, 7 weeks later. (They definitely never mentioned every other aspect of my life would come into play at the same time!) And true to form with my diagnosis of bipolar disorder and the black-and-white of the Asperger's, everything was bad. Nothing about my life was right; I lost a second baby, everything else wasn't working, I had failed to personally accomplish anything in the last 10 years, and all aspects of my relationships with those who were supposed to be close to me were in dire straits.

Yes, yes, in the light of the morning the next day, I'm doing better again. But it doesn't negate how overwhelmed I was yesterday. It doesn't take away all of the pain I am feeling for multiple reasons in my life right now, and it doesn't take away the feeling that there is no one I am able to talk to about all aspects of it. Sure, some people I can discuss one part of my life with and others might be able to listen to a different part, but I currently have no one person I feel I can completely open up to and have be here next to me for comfort. There is something seriously wrong with that, and yet, it is the story of my life. People don't "get" me, and they certainly don't seem interested in trying to. Believe it or not, despite the preconceptions of those with Asperger's, I am extremely invested in my relationships with others and desperately want for things to be two-sided. I can be one of the most supportive friends anyone could ever have, if only people would let me be.

Anyway, enough of the depressing. My own little therapeutic use of blogging to express myself is done for the day. In the meantime, I will share the one bright spot of my day yesterday. It is actually quite a big deal for those who know what all I've been through with Johnny's sensory problems over the past two and a half years...

Johnny went all day in the same diaper! From bed time the night before until bed time last night (and still this morning, actually) he has been in one single dry diaper. He has never before only used the potty like this. He got a big prize at the end of the day and promises of yet another if he can do it again. If I can ever get him to do this a good 3 or 4 days in a row, I'm going to even more enthusiastically push "big boy underwear" on him. At 4 1/2, it isn't something you can literally force on a kid, but it is definitely something you can talk them into if they are having a lot of success!

*So proud!*

returning to normal

Tomorrow marks 7 weeks post-op for me. I was officially cleared for "duty" (okay, life at a normal speed) a week ago based on time passed, but I'm still in a surprising amount of pain. I went to the doctor's office, and he was able to explain to me why this is: I'm scarred. Because of what all they had to do during the surgery, there was a high potential for internal scarring to begin with let alone when my genetics (yay hemophilia!) are added to the mix. Because the abdomen is in constant use, being the core of the body, those scars have had to form, break apart from movement, cause bleeding and more scarring, and then start the cycle all over again by breaking apart. He said that this will happen continually until some scars form that are in just the right size, shape and position that my body can continue to move around them without causing pain by brushing up against anything else. 

All of this means that while I should be relatively good to go, I'll most likely stay in some pain for the next few months. So basically, I have to just pretend that I'm fine and get back to normal. Okay then! I decided to take Johnny to Way Fruit Farm for their Fall Festival yesterday. Now mind you, as with all activities even prior to my surgery, I gauged his mood and the likelihood of multiple problem behaviors occurring and then decided upon our day's activities from there. Since he had spent a pretty happy morning hanging out around the house and had received a sufficient amount of sleep the night before, I took the risk and went for it.

We had a blast!

We got some popcorn and walked around the various vendor stalls, got our faces painted with matching balloons, flung apples in a sling-shot in the attempt to hit a truck out in a field, (which he did do successfully, telling me how it was just like Angry Birds) and took a tractor ride out into the pumpkin patch to pick out one to take home. We were pretty far into our visit to the farm when I realized that I had brought my son there by myself. Yeah, duh, I knew that. But what I didn't think about when it did it was that we might be standing a football field's distance into the pumpkin patch before he could find the perfect one to take home. I even talked him into picking a "smaller one" compared to his original choice, and we ended up buying one that weighed just over 23lbs. That doesn't sound too heavy when you think about some of the other items people tote around in daily life, especially those with children, but wow! I don't think the doc meant that I should be carrying toddler-size pumpkins all over creation when he said it was okay to "try to be normal" in my daily activities. It has been over 24 hours now and I'm still feeling the hurt. 

Despite the lack of foresight on my part, the trip overall was a success. Johnny made a lot of good choices when he could have done otherwise, and with constant encouragement I am proud to say that we didn't have even a single meltdown! I'm glad I decided to take him again this year, even though Steve couldn't come. 

halloween

Growing up, mid-September always marked the time where we began to plan out our Halloween costumes. We didn't have money, and my mom's rule was that we either borrow it from someone who wasn't going to be using it, or we make our own costume out of what we could find at the house. This wasn't just frugal, it forced us to be creative. I remember in the fifth grade I went as Marvin the Martian with a green skirt and red turtleneck, my face painted black with big white circles around my eyes, red tights and white sneakers, white latex gloves (I was working with what I could find!) and a imaginative little hat made from the inside foam padding of a broken bike helmet that had been painted green and topped with an upside-down yellow construction paper brush. I had refused to go my sister's lazy route of borrowing the same extra witch costume from the neighbor, 5 years in a row.

Anyway, when I had Johnny I vowed (among the list of many things that I would change or not change about my upbringing) that I would teach my kids the meaning of creativity and imagination (and not spoil them) by making them work on original costumes for Halloween. His first year he was only 6 months old and we were flat broke. I was going to just stick him in a cute puppy-themed sleeper we already owned, but my mom couldn't resist the uber-cute baby costumes at the store and bought him a chunky monkey outfit that was adorable. His second Halloween I figured he was too young to understand any of it, so I bought him a little $10 soldier uniform off the internet and put my brother's dog tags around his neck. He was the cutest little Army man the world has ever seen!

The year he was 2 1/2 I took him to the store to look at the costumes and get an idea of what he thought might be fun. He was obviously still too young to get the concept of Halloween, but he did already have a box full of dress-up clothes and was excited when mommy offered him something new. Instead of him picking something generic that I could easily make at home, he picked Cookie Monster. Well, whatever. I just caved and bought it. It isn't like he was going to learn anything from me making it at home anyway. Last year, at age 3, Johnny decided he wanted to be "SUPER JOHNNY" for Halloween. We dressed him in a fedora and necktie with boxer briefs over his pants and put a cape on him that I had hand-sewn, made from old t-shirts. Finally! We were starting into the tradition of making the costumes ourselves. I didn't spend a single penny, though I wasn't (and am still not) opposed to buying supplies for his future costumes: I just don't like the idea of a complete costume out of a box. I especially detest the $45+ that they charge for some of these costumes! I digress...

This September rolled around and after we got into the swing of things with school, I decided to ask the kiddo what he wanted to dress up as for Halloween? He remembers trick-or-treating last year, so he was quite excited. What did he want to be? Well, Luigi of course!

Wait-- Luigi? Not Mario?

"But mom! Mario is already HERE!" -- Correct! We have our very own beloved Mario with us 24/7, so it does make sense that he wants to dress the part of Luigi to match. How could a mom believe otherwise? "You're so silly. You have to think, mommy!" Yes, think.

- Luigi hat

- Long sleeve kelly green shirt without logo or markings

- White gloves

- Blue overalls

- Brown shoes

- Mustache

So I got to work. I ordered the Luigi hat off of Amazon (complete with matching Mario hat, though Johnny knows nothing about that one quite yet!) and the gloves there as well. I know Amazon's prices fluctuate, but when I ordered them the hats were $6.50 as a set with free shipping and the gloves were $3.50 with free shipping. I had looked at making the hat on my own, but the supplies cost more than it did buying that set outright! 

Then, after checking every store in our town that sells children's clothing and eventually resorting to trolling the internet for something that could work, I finally came across WalMart's school uniform shop online. You can't buy school uniforms in stores, but you can order them on the website, so I ordered the shirt in a double pack, one in the shade of kelly green and the other a pretty blue that I'm sure he will wear at some point. Cost: $12 for 2. (I would have bought the other one in red so that he would have a Mario outfit all lined up and ready for him, but the only red they had was more of a scarlet...) 

So, add in one of the mustaches I found at Party City for 35 cents in their favors section, a pair of hand-me-down brown shoes someone gave us and a pair of jean overalls from Kid 2 Kid for $3.99, and we've got our costume! All-in-all, I spent less than $17 on the actual costume, which is cheaper than the ones they sell in the stores. (Plus, the ones in the store are flimsy quality things that fall apart after one day!) The best part is that he will have use for most of the components past just his dress-up time. 

I have to say, I lucked out this year. It doesn't get much easier than putting together a Luigi costume. And at least for the next few years, the creativity aspect is on me. Figuring out how to use what is at hand or make a costume with minimal extras and only buying parts and pieces of it will be a fun thing to watch Johnny learn how to do when he gets old enough. Since he couldn't do all of that this year, I did make him "earn" part of his costume. Because everything in our lives revolve around his potty training issues, it was only fitting that in order to get a Luigi hat, he had to show us that he could be a big boy! He earned it tonight, and so he was allowed to try on the entire outfit. 

I think it turned out well! 

whoops

Have you ever told your kid that you were going to do something for them and then totally forgotten about it? Yeah. Fun times. Especially with a "rules" and "extra literal" kid. The tantrums that ensue are outrageous and I just sit there kicking myself when it happens because we could have avoided a huge problem if I had just remembered. What makes it worse is if he is freaking out about a promise one parent made when it is the other parent he is talking to. It happened last night...

We had gone to Barnes & Noble (a place we hadn't actually been to in quite a long time) after dinner, and I let him pick out a book and gave him his money to pay for it. He tried to get me to let him buy a toy, but I explained that it is a book store, and I don't honestly care if they sell toys, he was going to buy a book or nothing. Johnny took about 20 minutes picking out exactly which book he wanted, and then we went to pay. We went out to the car, and as he was getting into his seat he asked if I could read it to him. I told him no, not in the car, but right before bed I could read it to him.

Two hours later, I had forgotten the book even existed. When we got home I had started doing other things, and so when Steve went to put him to bed, I wasn't even thinking about the book being a factor. I was working on the computer in my room when I heard Steve giving him the usual options: 5 minutes with the lights on with a book with his CD playing, just his CD playing, or nothing at all. Johnny kept saying, "but it is time to read!" over and over and began to have a full-on meltdown. Steve, like anyone, was a bit confused because he had just offered Johnny the choice of reading for 5 minutes with the lights on. When Johnny wouldn't calm down, Steve told him that he would make the decision for him: it was lights-out. Suddenly, something clicked in my brain. Oh yeah! I had told the kid I would read his new book to him! I felt so bad once I realized that the screaming was my fault.

I went over into the room and told Steve I understood what was going on, (since the poor guy had no way of knowing) and I sat down to talk to Johnny. We discussed how screaming and throwing a fit is not a good choice and is never going to get him what he wants from mommy and daddy. We talked about how when we get mad, we should take a deep breath and count numbers. I then told him that it was okay, I had forgotten that I was going to read to him, but that he needed to go tell daddy with calm words what I had promised. He eventually did so, and soon his frustration had evaporated. We cuddled and I read him his book, kissed him goodnight, put on his CD and left the room.

I struggle sometimes between the guilt of having been the one to cause the meltdown and the understanding that if it wasn't me, it would have been someone else, and he needs to learn how to handle situations like that. What kills me is the part where he isn't able to effectively communicate. He really truly thinks that what he is saying makes perfect sense to whoever is listening, but they just don't get it. He was telling daddy that it was reading time; how much clearer could he be? He is 4. And it isn't as though things started off as a meltdown, it was when daddy didn't understand what he was saying (or, as I suspect in his mind, daddy ignored his words even though he started saying them calmly) that things escalated.

I still feel guilty.

things are picking up

Fall has officially arrived; we're back into the swing of the school year. The air has finally started to cool some and the leaves are beginning to change colors. Raffle tickets are for sale, and Halloween costumes are in the works. The weather seems to have taken a while to cooperate, but Johnny and his mama are definitely in "fall mode". He has been back to school long enough now to fight me on having to go each morning and refuse to leave when the day is over. All reports say that he is starting to ease out of the honeymoon phase and get back to the kid we all know and love to work hard with. The easy days may be over, but now we can all get down to helping him learn to self-regulate his emotions. It may sound strange, but to me the start of the year is harder because it feels like wasted time. I know the "problem behaviors" are going to come back, and it is almost as though we've just pressed pause on them. I want to get to the root of things and help him change his mindset for good, not sit around as if the issues are gone. According to today's phone call with Autumn, my boy is acting more like his normal self. With all of her wonderful grace, Autumn is just as ready to jump in and work with him as I am. I couldn't ask for more!

The biggest change for Johnny this school year doesn't have anything to do with school. This year, Johnny is (as he tells everyone he meets) four AND A HALF, and is now the proud "daddy" of two adorable kittens. A week ago Sunday, Steve's coworker Jackie brought over all five kittens from the litter her cat had birthed six weeks prior. They were all awesome little fuzzballs, and we got to spend the entire day with them to choose which two we wanted to keep. Johnny didn't seem to have an opinion past "an orange one and a black one" (two were orange and the other three were black) so Steve and I picked the two we wanted. Since the kiddo was most interested in naming them after cartoon characters from his current favorite shows, which we doubt he will still watch six months from now, we took the liberty of naming them. The slightly larger black one we named Holmes and the orange striped one became Watson.

We could not have picked a better time in his life to have that kiddo in charge of some pets! While he obviously is too young to care for them entirely on his own, we do have him help with the feeding and general training. This morning I went downstairs to find him sitting with his hand across a lounging Watson's belly, just chillin. I asked him what he was doing? "Feeling him purrrrrrrr." I'm thrilled with how well he has taken to them, and he is quickly becoming a top-notch pet owner.

Johnny did inform us that he is their daddy, Steve is their grandpa, and I am their mommy because they "can't not have a mommy!" Gotta love him.

"pointment"

Yesterday was an adventure. I had to take Johnny for a re-evaluation through CenClear in order for him to continue receiving services with Ashleigh and Erin. Because the person they had on staff to do this in the State College area recently quit, I had to drive him to Philipsburg (some 40 minutes from my house) and have the meeting there.

I went to the school a bit early to pick Johnny up, knowing that it might be a good idea to not only have warned him before he left to get on the bus in the morning but also to give him some time once I got there to break himself away from whatever activity the class was involved in. Sure enough, when I walked in the door he sees me and yells "NO mommy! I CAN'T go until I finish LITERACY GROUPS!!!" He wasn't mad, he was excited. As a mom, I'll always prefer him to be that enthusiastic about literacy groups. Autumn has told me before that it is his favorite part of the week. (Which tells me that he is ready for more instruction-based learning, but I know that isn't how they work at a preschool level, and most kids wouldn't do well with it at that age...) My arrival coincided with Ashleigh's departure, so we stood and chatted for a few minutes while Johnny finished his literacy group. The day was reported to have been a harder one than any have been since he started back to school, but still no over-the-top moments. He has been doing a lot of building up for a big tantrum and then talking himself back down. -- Proud mama time!

Anyway, Ashleigh left and literacy groups ended just a minute later. I didn't have to have Johnny out the door quite yet, as I'd planned for a half hour of cushion time because in the past it has taken that long on many occasions, so I told him he could stay and have circle time and then his snack before we left. "My mommy is here, guys," he said. "My mommy had surgery" was followed by "My mommy is taking me to meet a new friend at pointment" and "You guys have to sing the goodbye song just to me since I have to leave with my mommy". It was easier for me that he was excited about my presence. After a snack, we began to head on our way.

We didn't leave until they sang the goodbye song "just to him".

I was already in a bit of pain (my meds were out by that time but I obviously couldn't take more if I was going to be driving) before we even got in the car, and the drive help. After finding the correct building and waiting our turn, we were shown into a little room to talk with one of the men who worked for Mental Health Services. He turned out to be a really cool guy and was easy to talk to. I answered all of his questions about Johnny, and like the last time he was evaluated, the kid himself was only asked about 3 questions in the hour we were there. Having remembered our previous experience, I had come prepared, carrying his iPad. Between that and a play-doh set that the guy (I think his name was Andrew?) let Johnny borrow while we were there, the kiddo made it through the "pointment" okay and we left for home.

I couldn't have asked for all of it to have gone any better than it did, but I was still in a lot of pain by the time it was all over. I knew I couldn't have pushed the meeting to another day because we were already right up against the deadline to get it done. If I hadn't taken him, he would have lost services and we would have had to start the entire process all over. I guess you do what you have to as a parent, no matter the cost to yourself. It wasn't life and death for me or anything, but I am still today feeling the effects quite strongly.

Today is Friday and he will hop on the bus a little after 11, not to return until 4. I need the time to try and rest in order for my body to catch up with me. For the third time this week, I intend to turn my phone off entirely. If the school needs to reach someone, Steve will have to do.

headway

So apparently we are making some progress!!! And by we, I mean Johnny. Today at school during lunch the new classroom aide passed out the cups at the table and there was one that didn't match the rest. Last year something similar happened when they had holiday themed plates that weren't his normal routine and he threw them, yelled, had a meltdown and then refused to eat or participate in any activities for the rest of the day. Today, he told Autumn that it was "not okay!" and then started to cry. He then switched gears and began to demand that he have the "special cup" as his own, (it wasn't at his place setting) but Autumn told him that it didn't work that way. He could either use the cup he was given or not drink anything at all, it was his choice. Instead of flipping out, he simply told her that maybe next time he would get lucky and have the special cup, then went on with his meal like nothing had happened.

I got this report in my daily email from Autumn and was excited to learn about it. I will be interested to hear both Ashleigh and Erin's take on the situation, as they were both present in the classroom today. They obviously weren't there at all last year, but I know that with Ashleigh's uber-observant eye, I might get a more detailed run-down. -- You might wonder how something like this simple situation could have more details: what I mean is that she records the amount of time an "incident" takes and what level of emotional response he gives, etc.

Anyway, it is nice to see the results of some of our hard work this summer! I must say that we ended out the season with a very different attitude and far fewer outbursts per day. Back in May, I wasn't sure what I was going to do to make it through the break from school, but Johnny has grown by leaps and bounds. I am anxious to watch as he continues to develop more socially appropriate behavior. Gold star for my boy!

The other fun part of today was working on a project with Johnny. The school sent home a big poster where he can draw a picture of himself, write his name really big at the top, color some parts in and then answer a series of questions. We just tackled the questions since mommy was confined to bed for the most part. Here are some of the questions and their resulting answers:

• What is your favorite color? -- Purple

• What is your favorite animal? -- Tiger (Which I have never heard him ever mention before, but he has been watching "Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood" a lot during my recovery!)

• What is your favorite food? -- Bagels & Cereal (Pretty much the only thing he has eaten during the past few days, since it is what has been on hand, is easy, and mama is able to put on the table in less than 10 seconds.)

• What do you want to be when you grow up? -- (Swirling his hand around his head while he answers...) "A guy who wears the crown. A king! I want to be The King!"

• What makes you a "star"? -- Practice. 

• Give 3 fun facts about yourself. -- 

               1. Loves Angry Birds

               2. Loves Mario & his "Whites" 

               3. Loves going to the carnival. (Whaaaa?)

• What is your favorite book? Race Cars (I have no idea?)

• How do you show love to people? (After insisting that I hold my hand out, he kisses my palm...) "With Kisses. On the hand."

Needless to say, I enjoyed our little chat and if I'm feeling better tomorrow than I did today, I'll be able to venture downstairs to the kitchen table and we can work on decorating the poster. Maybe I'll even get some stickers out for him! I grabbed one out of the basket at the doctor's office today during my post-op checkup. It has an angry bird on it. He should be thrilled!