The space between

We have been out of school for 3 weeks. I kind of knew it was going to be a huge adjustment for me and bubs, probably more for me at this point. It was a highly structured program and they kept data on everything. They had a clip board on it with all the slightly quirky/annoying things my son did and they would make slash marks each time he did one. That kind of crap made the leaving easier.
Entering the 'secular' world (for lack of a better word) has been somewhat eye opening and stressful (gee, what a surprise) for me and I think it's been a little confusing for bubs. I think if you were to describe bubs' place on the spectrum at the present moment, it would be 'falls under the radar- most of the time'. First off, I need to say that him falling off the radar is not a value judgement on my part. At our home and with our friends, there just isn't a radar to speak of. It's free and easy, flapping is optional. It's more about trying to find our place in this world, in this 'do I tell or do I not tell' kind of world. I usually don't tell because I feel like bubs has a right to his privacy (although I guess I shot that wad when I plastered his pictures all over the internet, right?) or maybe it's just that I don't think it should be an issue, I think people should accept people for who they are and not need some kind of label in order to be compassionate. Needless to say, it's a loaded issue for me. I respect any autism momma's choice in how to handle the issue. I am still finding my way here.

I have seen over the last few weeks some moments here and there where it's just not that easy for my son to keep it together. I have one child on the spectrum, I do not know what is typical for a child of five. I think sometimes I am harder on him than I should be, then other times I worry that I am making excuses for him. Does that make any kind of sense?
We were at a birthday party yesterday (A fabulous birthday party by the way at a cool jump house). I followed the boy around like one of those annoying helicopter moms you want to pinch at the park (at least I want to pinch them). Basically I want to make sure he isn't giving someone his world famous love taps (I think it's sensory seeking, and I usually am the one receiving them) and that everyone is sharing and communicating. I guess I was meddling. I just didn't want my son to make anyone cry or for anyone to make him cry. I know in my tired brain that you need to let the little stinkers handle it on their own. But I think for my bubs, he still needs some help in that department.
At any rate, at one point, bubs went up the huge bouncy slide but he went in front of a child at the top of the slide when he slid down-ignoring the one child at a time ride, and probably some kind of 'cutting the line' infraction. Honestly, I don't' think he knew what he did was wrong, it was impulsive. Not a big deal. I saw when he got down that the guy running the thing was reprimanding him. Not in a mean way, nothing bad-he was just reiterating the rules. I was going to intervene, and it occurred to me that I can't hold him up to these standards all the time, and not expect him to be treated like a 'typical' kid. It's really what I want for him. For the record, he got embarrased and never went back on the slide. It's probable that he does know way more than I give him credit for.
My friend Mary, who is my voice of reason amidst this chaos, told me that I might be holding him up to impossible standards. I don't see the forest for the trees when it comes to other kids. I intensely focus with razor sharp clarity on my own little being. She said typical five year olds can be like wild banshees, especially at a bouncey house. It's tough, we have spent the last few years working on behaviors, on my boy like white on rice. I know it's time to let him fly, and perhaps shed a few tears in the process.



I think my biggest fear is that I am making my child nuts. Hopefully one day he'll be able to work it all out with a good therapist.

Spelunking anyone?

If anyone would have told me ten years ago, that my idea of a fun time would be 150 feet underground searching for bats and newts, I would have said you were smoking crack. To be honest, it's still not in my top ten, but now that I live vicariously through my son, it wasn't as bad as I thought.
We had a wonderful time on our vacay. It was a little rainy, hence the visit to Indian Echo Caverns. I was really worried how bubs would be, it was a lot of walking and a forty five minute, half mile tour given by an old man who told us we were not allowed to touch the rooms of the cave because our greasy hands would ruin it. So yeah, I was really thrilled that we made it through the whole thing without hearing my sons screams echoing through the entire cave. That might have been the exciting part for me. It was kinda cool though, literally and figuratively. It is 54 degrees inside there year round. Apparently the Native Americans used it to store their food and to take a break from the extreme temps, and they have evidence of a recluse who lived (and died there). But enough about the cave.
It was really great to be together as a family. My husband and I never seem to be parents at the same time, and I realized over the course of those few days just how separate we had become. I also noticed that my son can really try to work us both over. He was relentless at times. I blame some of it on the lack of routine and the crazy hours. He was tough though and it was nice that my husband and I could deal with it together. Even better was the fact that we were able to have good times together. The cave was definitely an experience for us, and it was really nice. After the cave we went to the Wilbur Chocolate factory, which was probably my favorite place of the day.
We stayed two nights and we were sorry we didn't stay a third. I didn't get enough Amish love. I realized how excited I get every time I see them in their little buggies. Just driving around on the winding corn filled roads, it was a thrill to see the purple and black clothes hanging on the line drying, and we even got to see a bunch of kids playing volleyball. Why does it thrill me so? At any rate, I didn't get my share of souvenir shopping, although I did get quite a bit of chocolate. We decided to make it a yearly thing and stay at the same place every year.

I felt really bad that I could not send out a package of goodies to everyone. I promise that I will have more giveaways. It is fun! My birthday is August 9th and once bubs starts camp in a week, I will be able to carve out some more time with my sewing machine.

Marla-I sent the package out on Friday, it should be there by the middle of the week!

It's that time...

We have a winner!!!! We have a winner!!!

I think I am clicky, send me an email Marla!

Thank you all for your comments, I truly appreciate your coming here and reading my rants! Stay tuned for more giveaways in the month of August as it is my birthday and I will be in the mood to party!

The gifts of summer - and a belated 100th post giveaway extravaganza

I am always amazed when I can grow something, be it plant, mold or child. Amazed! These little beauties are plucked right from my beautiful raspberry patch (that sounds better than bush, don't you think?). Heavenly!

I think it's time to put the crapola aside and enjoy a little summer. We were supposed to be on vacation right now, but bubs got sick on Sunday night (old man coxsackie knocked upon our door). I called the resort where we were going (in Pennsylvania) and they were kind enough to let me reschedule for this Thursday, so we did not lose our deposit, or our much needed family time. Bubs is feelin better, knock on wood, he is going on a little mini overnighter trip with his dad to the north fork of long island tomorrow night, and then Thursday we will be off. I even borrowed my parents gps thingie so I will be able to find a Panera bread there (just kidding about that, it's so my husband doesn't get angry when he misses his exit on the Pennsylvania turnpike). I cannot wait for some Amish love! Apple butter anyone?

I also want to celebrate my 100th post, about six posts later. I really wanted to do a giveaway for my wonderful bloggy friends. Apparently this is the way they do it on the craft blogs, and I have been reading them like crazy lately! So here it goes, if you want to win this box of goodness which includes; a raspberry zippy pouch for you to store all of your summer lip glosses, a tissue cozy in my summertime scoops pattern (reminds me of ice cream), my all time new favorite clothespin holder to make drying your clothes on the line even sweeter, and a couple of little raspberry button magnets- all you have to do is leave me a comment. I know there are a few lurkers here so please don't be shy. I will check back on Monday and pick a winner!!! Have a wonderful fourth of July!!!!!

Click on the picture for a better view

Summertime and the livin is easy...

Or not. Today I spent the better part of the noontime hour chasing around a dense pizza delivery person, while 6 very patient little persons (and their patient teachers) waited for what seemed like an eternity for their celebratory lunch to be delivered. I was definitely sweating the small stuff today, as class mom, I take my job VERY seriously and I wanted our end of the year party to be great. Hey, we wound up scrounging some pizza from the neighboring hallway's end of the year lunch for the kids, and eventually the lost delivery guy showed up and no one was worse for the wear. Especially me now, since I am on my second malibu and pineapple juice. I forgot how deeelish they are. So cheers everyone, here is to a wonderful, relaxing, simple, joyful summer, full of homemade lemonade and fireflies and short on mosquito bites and humidity.

(and hanging all your laundry on the line to dry, too, with a cute little clothespin holder that you made yourself)

To everything turn, turn, turn...

It's been quite the month, now that it's almost done, it's been quite the week. A total whirlwind of emotions swirling around here. I have NOT been easy to live with the past few days. This is bubs' last week of school. It's also his last week of therapy. No more therapy (at least for the summer, and so far, none is slated for the fall). My bubs has been in therapy since he was six months of age. He had torticollis at birth, and he got pt pretty early on. That was our 'intro' to 'the system' which has so lovingly nurtured us along all these years. It really is wonderful, and something to celebrate, but it also has me a little mushy, a little frightened of the unknown territory headed our way, and nervous to be leaving our cozy little nest.

When bubs started his aba preschool, he was three. He didn't talk, and was quite a handful. I didn't know what was going to happen with him. I was crazy into biomed, and if you wanted to see what perseveration looked like, a picture of my face should have been plastered in webster's underneath the word. I was obsessed with autism. I had to be. It was the only way I could think I had control over the insanity that was our life. There wasn't any peace for me at that time, the closest I could come to peace was exhaustion. I didn't want to send bubs to that school. It was intense, it was one on one for six hours a day, bubs would be in his own room (some called them cubicles) doing discrete trials. Plus the fact that the school had the word 'autism' in it's name, and I just wasn't ready to go there. I didn't want him to have to go there. I agonized. I looked into other options. But the honest to God truth was that aba worked for bubs. It really worked. If I wanted aba for him, I had to send him there. They were aba experts. The only game in town, and actually people moved here from all over the place to send their kids there. So, we sent him there. A baby. In diapers. It was rough in the beginning.

I really dreaded the whole thing. But a surprising thing happened. We got better. Not just bubs, but me and subsequently my poor husband who had to put up with me. Bubs loved it there, and it wasn't quite the horror show I imagined it to be. We found our peeps. Just walking in there, surrounded by people who were in the very same boat I was, was soothing in a way I had not known. While that is not enough of a common bond for me to be friends with someone, it does lead you to opening up, and I found my way to people who I consider my true friends. I also think bubs made some really tight friends, and that is no small thing to consider. Two years ago, I didn't know if he would talk, or be able to even hold a conversation. I am floored by everything that comes out of his mouth. Everything. Even the bratty stuff.

So, we are moving on. Like I said, it's a complete mix of extreme emotions. We are ready to move on to the next step, but we will really miss where we came from. It's all good. On to our next set of challenges.... bring it on, I am ready, I swear!

Thank you to all my bloggy friends for your kind words and condolences. It really means a lot to me.

The big question

I totally believe that everything happens for a reason. I do. I guess that might be part of my religious beliefs, which are a part of my own homemade religion. I think though, sometimes you just have no business going and asking just what those reasons are. It's a can of worms and it is not productive. I do try and find the lesson and I try really hard to move on in a positive direction. I do, I swear.
I do think my son was sent to me on purpose. My child teaches me more than I can ever teach him. He has been teaching me a lot lately. Perhaps I was a little low in the patience department, so the powers that be decided to test that patience. A lot. Maybe I don't think it's a big deal to take your bathing suit off and put it on the right way, instead of backwards before going out. But to my son, it was monumental. He didn't want to change it. He told me so, rather screamed it so for a half an hour yesterday. He is just starting to have an understanding of empathy, and I think it confuses him. He told me this morning he was sorry for crying. I am sorry for it too. I wish I knew what was going on in his brain right now to be causing so much angst. I know from my psychology books that all change causes anxiety. It is a necessary part of life, critical to moving forward and needed to get to the next step. It's tough for all of us, it's so tough to see your child going through it.

It's all a little tender right now. One of my cousins (actually my dad's cousin's son) just passed away last night. He was 29. I used to babysit for him. When he was little (I believe one or two), he was diagnosed with Leukemia. It was heartbreaking what he had to endure. He was a feisty little guy, always tearing the house apart, full of energy. He beat it, and went on with his life. I am sure that it was always in the back of his and his families mind, lurking in the corners as I am sure it is for anyone with cancer in remission. As I watched him grow up, I always thought he was an old soul in a young body. For all the crap that he went through, how could he not. The rambunctious toddler turned into a very quiet, socially awkward, sweet kind person. The kind of person who would not hurt a fly. He went to the high school where I taught. I couldn't help but think about how his childhood forever changed his path as a person. Could it be the chemicals pumped into him at an early age (which saved his life) or just having to think about all that heavy stuff way too young?
I had heard a few months ago that he had cancer again. The doctors said that it wasn't related to the leukemia. But how could it not be? He was at Sloane-Kettering getting treatment. Apparently, the stem cell treatment caused scarring on his lungs. He had a bout of pneumonia. The other night my parents called and told me they were going to the hospital to say their goodbyes. I was shocked. I had no idea. I think that when I hear of something sad, I instantly translate it into my life. How would I feel? As a mom, it took my breath away. It gives you a little clarity on what's important in life, but it also gives me anxiety thinking that the life you know could be taken away at an instant. I imagine a giant withered hand poking you on the shoulder and a big loud voice saying 'you, you need to come with me' and off you go. I cannot imagine, and I am afraid to even think about, what it must be like for his parents and grandparents right now. The natural order of things is off, way off.

I am so sorry to be such a downer. For me, I spent the morning squeezing the life out of my son telling him over and over again how much I love him. And trying not to feel horribly guilty for all of his tantrums lately. And grateful for all I have. And sad for my cousin and his family.