almost 8 {and a date}

Kiddo and I celebrated Martin Luther King Jr. Day by going on a date.

First stop:  Dunkin Donuts.  Strawberry frosted with sprinkles for him.  Plain old glazed for me (but it's my favorite).

Second stop:  thrift store.  His choice.  And where he excitedly spent some of his savings on a giant duck.

I have an aversion to buying stuffed animals at thrift stores, but when you have a son who collects ducks and is absolutely tickled when he finds one so huge and soft and fluffy and irresistible, and for the bargain price of $3.50 instead of $27.99 (or whatever), you are willing to make a few concessions.  Or, at least, I am. 

We also spent $7 (of Mommy's money) on a stack of books that should keep him busy for a while.

Actually, at the moment, they are keeping me busy instead, as half of them are favorites of mine that I haven't read in more than 20 years, and I've been having fun getting reacquainted.

Final stop:  Staples.  Also his choice.  Really.

 

And then we were home, where Kiddo built a giant blanket fort in the middle of the living room and busily organized important papers (like grammar worksheets and old spelling homework) with his new office supplies.

And, speaking of this child of mine, he turns 8 next week.  EIGHT YEARS OLD.  How can this be?  

It has been so fun to watch him grow and learn, to see glimpses of the little boy of the past, the bigger boy of the present, and the you're-growing-too-fast-please-slow-down-but-wow-I-like-who-you-are-becoming-grown-up boy of the future.  

This morning on the way to school we were planning his birthday party (I'm starting a little late.  Oops).  In the past, we have always had small informal family parties here at home, with grandparents and occasionally a few cousins.  But this year he wanted a party with friends.  I asked him who he would invite.  He listed some kids from church and two or three kids that he plays with regularly at school.  "And I want to invite [boy from school]" he says, "because some days he doesn't like me and I want to see if I can be better friends with him."  

I am one proud mama.  Friendship comes so effortlessly for most kids, and he has to struggle and work hard every day to feel included and to figure out the complex social ebb and flow of his classmates.  And yet, because of that, he is willing to go the extra mile to make a friend.  Where I would be happy to ignore the boy-who-doesn't-like-me, he is willing to reach out and risk himself to make a relationship better.  Sure, I'm scared of him being hurt if it doesn't work out, but I am so stinkin' proud of him for having the courage to try. 

He may have trouble making friends, but at 7 almost 8 years old, he sure knows a lot already about how to be one.

pool party

Kiddo and I went to a swim party today.  I didn't really want to go, but he did.  He rarely gets invited to birthday parties or playdates, so I often feel like we should make the most of the few invitations we do get.  And I want to encourage him socially, so if he wants to go, I try hard to oblige.  So off to the swim party we went.

It didn't go particularly well.

1.  He is not a strong swimmer, in water or in social situations.
2.  He started to flounder in water that was a little too deep, and the woman who owned the pool jumped in after him, fully clothed.  With her cell phone in her pocket.
2.  He also floundered a little socially - he had a hard time connecting with the other kids, who were busy swimming (well) or having water fights. 
3.  When the other kids noticed him, it was primarily as a target.  But Kiddo doesn't particularly appreciate getting squirted.  Or splashed.
4.  Unfortunately, I think both of those are pretty much a given when you are at a pool party with a bunch of 7-year-olds.

After about half an hour, he was done.  He was uncomfortable and anxious and unhappy. 

"I'm not having any fun, Mommy.  Can we go home?"

(2 years old)

There is a fine line between "enough is enough" and encouraging your child to grow in a situation where he is not particularly comfortable.  But he had stuck it out for a while, and I was ready to go home, too.  I was tired of trying to help him navigate everything, to share, to communicate with the other kids, to stay in the shallow end.  Distracted as I was, I hadn't had a chance to connect with the other moms, either.

I drove home feeling defeated.  Another social situation gone awry.  Nothing really horrible happened, but it wasn't a stellar success, either.  I don't think the other kids even noticed when he left.  

When we got home, we wandered outside, and it seemed like we both immediately relaxed, and the anxiety of the afternoon disappeared.  And as I ambled around the garden, I couldn't help but wish that we could just spend the summer at home, just the three of us, puttering in the garden in our own little world.  

It would be so much easier to play hermit, to stay in this safe place where my child is understood.  Where he can talk about ducks all he wants (even if it drives Mommy and Daddy crazy sometimes).  Where it doesn't matter if he can't ride a bike or throw a ball well.  Where someone will listen to the nonsense songs he makes up, and where it's normal to hear 4- and 5-syllable words coming out of a 7-year-old. 

Easier?  Yes.  

Best?  Probably not.

Sigh.

So tonight, I will take a deep breath.  I will pray for wisdom and patience.  I will celebrate how far he has come.  I will remind myself of the many ways I have seen him grow over the past year.  It makes me want to cry, I am so proud of him.  

I will take him to pool parties and birthday celebrations.  I will help him learn how to swim.  I will walk him through social interactions at the playground at Chick-fil-A and at the park.  I will pick him up and hold him close and reassure him when things don't go as planned.  I will be there for him.  And I will give him a safe and secure place to come home to, where he can be himself, where he knows he is loved just as he is.  

There will be pool parties to navigate, but there will also be a garden to putter in.

civilization

Hubby and I were sitting out here in the living room earlier tonight, listening to Kiddo read Mr. Putter and Tabby books - and giggle over them.  One of the best sounds in the whole world.

My watch battery died over the weekend.  I am finding it very hard to function without it.  I feel naked and lost (I just realized that was a TOTALLY random side note).

Anyway...

Last week, my husband and I introduced Kiddo to a computer game - Civilization III.  This may or may not have been a mistake.  He.  Is.  Hooked.  When he wakes up, he talks about Civ.  When he climbs in the car after school, he talks about Civ.  A few minutes ago we were snuggling together, battling his insomnia, and he talked about Civ.

For those unfamiliar with the game, you start as a pioneer in an uncharted land with the goal of creating - and sustaining - an empire.  You build cities, learn technologies, explore the world and discover other civilizations, and compete with them for various resources.  Kiddo rarely plays a game through - given his love of geography, he is far more interested in obtaining maps from the other civilizations and discovering new islands or continents than he is in developing a productive empire.  He could play for hours if we let him.

But we don't let him.  So the other day we played Civ. with his blocks (and ducks) instead.

He quickly began building his empire.

(major bed-head that day)

This is my neighboring civilization under attack.

Apparently I didn't fortify my cities very well, because it wasn't long before I was completely wiped out.

After I had been annihilated, Kiddo got Daddy into the game.

Daddy was smart enough to form an alliance with Kiddo, and then they went on the offensive against an overly aggressive group of ducks.  There were catapults involved in the attack.

The ducks rebuilt out of the rubble, but were much more pacifistic afterward. 

I think that's when Hubby introduced the Vikings so that they would have someone else to battle...

I was in the kitchen fixing dinner while they played.  I loved listening to them laugh and squeal and enjoy each other.  And as I listened, I realized how far Kiddo has come.  Two years ago, he would rarely let us be involved in his play without needing to dictate everything - we were only allowed to play with certain things in a certain way, at a certain time.  We weren't allowed to make any decisions in the play scenario, because he would then loose control.  As I listened to them launch bean bags at block towers and negotiate trade agreements together, I heard Kiddo allowing Hubby to be spontaneous and involved in the game.  He let Hubby participate and make unpredictable decisions.  Kiddo was more able to roll with whatever unfolded as the story progressed, and have fun doing it. 

It was so fun to hear him giggle and squeal and laugh.  To see him let go of his need for control and enjoy playing together with someone and appreciate their ideas and suggestions.  Awesome.  God is good.

glowsticks

Last night, after he went to bed, Kiddo became fixated on the popping sounds of our radiators as they expanded and contracted, and got really upset (an autism thing, I think).  Weeping and sniffling and tears (Kiddo), gnashing of teeth (Mommy).  There wasn't a whole lot I could do - we can't turn the heat off.  It's literally freezing outside, and we live in a 60-year-old house that was built before insulation was thought to be important.  I tried turning up the music playing in his room, I tried climbing into bed with him, I tried rationalizing, I tried to get him to think about something else by making him laugh, sing a song, count to 100, make up a story about some of his stuffed animals.  Nothing was working.  It was over an hour past bedtime, I was frustrated, and Kiddo was clinging to my arm, refusing to let me leave his room.  And then I looked over and saw a tube of glowsticks sitting on his dresser.  I pulled one out, activated it, and handed it over.  The smiles came out, the tears stopped, and I left him happily waving it around in the dark and hiding it under his sheet.  Five minutes later, he was fast asleep.

And there was much rejoicing in the land.

Thank you, Lord, for glowsticks.  And for giving me your wisdom when I have none.

autism update

Thanks, everyone, for your prayers and support over the past few weeks!  Here's an update on our recess/playmate situation. 

I have been so impressed with the teachers we've had so far at school.  I sang the praises of Kiddo's kindergarten teacher last year, and Kiddo's teacher this year is also pretty much just awesome.  I talked with her a couple of days after Kiddo said something, and mentioned to her that he was having trouble finding friends to play with on the playground.  She immediately began watching for him on the playground (actually, I think she was already doing some of this even before I said anything to her, as was Kiddo's teacher from last year), and she also spoke to all of the other teachers and staff members who rotate on recess duty so that everyone would be aware of the situation.  After checking with me to make sure I didn't mind, she also began assigning a couple of kids each day to play with Kiddo.  She has been so supportive and willing to work with us - she is such a blessing! 

She was very excited about my offer to come in and talk with the class, so I went in and talked to them yesterday.  It went really well [sigh of relief!].  My mom came and took Kiddo out for a doughnut date while I stayed and talked with the kids for about 15 minutes.  I talked about how everyone has things that they are good at and things that are hard for them, and I asked the kids to tell me some things that they were good at, as well as things that were hard.  I told them that autism made Kiddo's brain work differently, so that he had some different things that were hard and easy.  I told them about the things that Kiddo was good at (memory, math, creativity, puzzles...) and then went on to talk about the things that were hard for Kiddo.  I tried to focus on just the most important issues, so I settled on three:

1)  Kiddo can't understand what other kids are thinking or feeling (because he can't read body language), so it is hard for him to play with other kids or know what he is supposed to do.  To help him, kids can invite him to play, tell him the "rules" of whatever they are playing, and use extra words to tell him what they are thinking.  Kiddo's teacher added that when out on the playground, Kiddo sometimes "loses" the kids that he is playing with, because he has trouble recognizing them in the crowd, so his playmates may need to come find him if he gets separated from them.

2)  When there are a lot of kids, Kiddo can't process all of the conversations going on around him fast enough, nor realize if he is supposed to participate in the conversation.  He also can't respond fast enough to kids running by and saying "hi" in the hallway.  He's not being rude, he's just being autistic.  Kids can help by saying his name first when asking a question, and giving him a few extra seconds to respond, or touching him lightly on the arm to get his attention before saying something to him.

3)  Motor skills are a challenge - things like kicking or throwing a ball are tough, as well as navigating the monkey bars and other trickier aspects of the playground.  I told the class they could help by playing with Kiddo on other parts of the playground, or waiting for him on the other side of the monkey bars until he can find another way around, or giving him a turn with the ball even though he's not as strong so that he can practice and get better.

They were all very attentive and really seemed to "get it."  They seemed to take it in stride, like it was no big deal.  One of the moms saw me this afternoon and said her son came home talking all about Kiddo and what I had told them that morning.  He even remembered a lot of the major points I was trying to get across!  Awesome.

So, thanks again for praying!  I'm really pleased with how things are going.  No, Kiddo hasn't made any true friends yet, but I am seeing so many little areas of improvement, it is encouraging (remind me of this the next time we have a bad day, okay?).  I'm hoping that his classmates will be more tolerant of Kiddo's idiosyncrasies now that they know there is a reason for them and he's not just "weird." 

Love him!

p.s.

I am talking to Kiddo's class about autism Monday morning.  Your prayers would be greatly appreciated!  Thanks!

(background can be found here)

recess

I hate recess.

On the way to school this morning, Kiddo said from the back seat, "No one likes to play with me at recess.  So I'm going to think of some really fun games to play, and then maybe they will want to play with me!"  My heart broke a little. I told him I thought that was a great idea.  I suggested he should also think of someone he wants to play with, and then go up to them at recess and say "Hi, (Billy or whoever), what are you playing?  Can I play, too?" (he sometimes needs a script to follow in social situations).  "I know, Mommy," he said, "I tried that a couple of times already."  I started brainstorming.  I asked him if his classmates still played soccer during recess, since organized games are sometimes easier for him to grasp, and he has had some success with soccer in the past.  "Sometimes," he said, "but they wouldn't give me a turn with the ball, so I just left."  By this time, we had arrived at school.  I gave him a big hug, told him that if I could pick any kid on the playground to be mine, I would pick him, and sent him to class.  I held it together on the way home, but when I got in the door, I broke down and just sobbed.  Being a kid is hard.  So is being a mom.

I admire his spunk and determination so much, to go out there every day hoping for a playmate, thinking of creative ideas to try and get the other kids to play with him, and it breaks my heart to think that the other kids at school can't see what an awesome kid he is.  Who wouldn't want to play with this little guy?

Yes, he has his quirks, but he is also fun, and funny, and creative.  He gets so much joy out of being with other kids.  It saddens me that they aren't willing to have a little extra patience with him, to explain the rules of their game, to wait for him as he navigates the playground equipment.  He wants to play with the other kids so much, yet can't keep up with the speed of their social interactions, or the ever-changing rules of their games.  Or they will allow him to play for a few minutes until they realize he can't run or climb the playground equipment as quickly and easily as they can, and he either gets left behind, or told that they don't want to play with him any more.

What's frustrating as a mom is how helpless I feel.  How do I help him when I'm not there?  And even if I were there, what would I do?  Tell the other kids that they MUST play with my kid?  Stick to his side and coach him through every interaction?  There are teachers and staff members out on the playground, but I can't expect them to follow my child around the whole time, making sure he is included.  They have a hundred other kids to look after as well.  Maybe it would it help if I went in to school and talked to his class about autism and what they can do to help?  Or would that just single him out as being "different" even more?  What I probably will do, at least, is talk to his teacher and/or the special education resource room at school, to see if they have any suggestions.  But I think this is something Kiddo will struggle with for years.   

My prayer this year has been for Kiddo to find a friend.  Just one friend.  I had high hopes when school started a few weeks ago, but after this morning, I am worried that it won't happen, that the other kids won't give him a chance.  I'm sure that's a little premature of me, but I'm his mom.  I can't help it. 

Dear Lord,

Thank you for this amazing son you've given me.  Thank you for his determination, for his creativity.  Thank you for his sweet and gentle spirit, for his laughter and for the joy he gets out of life.  Please help his classmates to see the many gifts you have given him.  Help him also to recognize the gifts and strengths of others.  Please bring him one friend at school, someone who will see him as you see him, who will love him despite his weaknesses and idiosyncrasies.  And may this experience help my son to love others who seem a little different, and to treat them with compassion.  

Help me as a mom know how to help him and support him best.  Help me to know when to stand back and let him fight his own battles, when to coach him from the sidelines, and when to step in and get more involved.  Please give me wisdom as I parent this incredible kid.  

Love,
me 

***

P.S.  Now that I go back and read over this, it sounds like the other kids at school are mean and cruel.  They are not.  They are sweet kids.  I am in the classroom regularly, and they are wonderful children.  They just don't understand my son, and, with so many other "easy" playmates around, they don't take the time to figure him out.  I have also been very grateful for the teachers and staff, who love my son and genuinely care about him and want him to succeed.  They have been willing to go the extra mile with him, to help him over hurdles and rough spots.  Hopefully we can make it over this hurdle, too.

speaking of lemons...

The following is a repost from last spring.  I removed it from the blog over the summer because we had a potential birth family considering us as an adoptive family for their baby.  I gave them the blog address, but I wanted to explain Kiddo's diagnosis to them in person, instead of having them read bits and pieces of it on the blog.  But this is an important part of our family's story (and I was writing a post today and realized it wouldn't make much sense unless this post was available as background)...

*** 

You might say that one of the "occasional lemons" that we've found thus far in our journey as a family is autism.  Our son is autistic.  Not in the classic autism sense, but in the has-some-autistic-characteristics-so-has-been-diagnosed-on-the-very-high-functioning-end-of-the-autism-spectrum sense (did you know autism was a spectrum of multiple disorders with a variety of symptoms and a wide range of severity?  I surely didn't a year ago). 

I tell you this not to try and gain sympathy or pity (although sympathy from those who understand our unique challenges is welcome on those hard days).  I don't expect (nor do I want) to write regularly about parenting a spectrum child, but I feel like I need to provide a point of reference so that, if I happen to write about how excited I am that my son actually participated in a game of soccer with his classmates at recess last week, you will hopefully understand that I am not a crazy lunatic mom, but a mom who has watched her son struggle throughout the entire school year to understand the complex social interactions that are swirling around him with seemingly blazing speed, and it is crazy exciting to see him improve and grow.  Crazyexciting AWESOME (I still feel like jumping and cheering - or crying - when I think about that soccer game).

What does it mean to have a child like mine?  It means that I see my child eagerly wanting to spend time with other kids, but he is often on the sidelines.  It means that he has trouble keeping up on the playground because he can't catch or throw a ball and has trouble with jumping, balance, and other skills that his peers take for granted.  It means that he is a perfectionist who is occasionally overwhelmed by frustration when something isn't perfect [insert wailing and gnashing of teeth here].  It means that we have to deal with varying degrees of anxiety whenever there is a change in routine.  It means that if he wakes up crying in the middle of the night for one reason or another, we never know if he will settle back down within minutes and sleep the rest of the night, or if he will escalate into a full-blown meltdown [insert more wailing and gnashing of teeth] that keeps all three of us up for an hour.  It means that Hubby and I get to practice patience.  Lots.  And lots.  Of patience.       

And it means that we get to delight in our son's unique gifts.  He is smart.  He reads well and loves numbers and math.  He has an unbelievable memory.  He has an original way of thinking that is quirky and cool.  And he's just an amazing, sweet, gentle little guy (I'm totally unbiased).

At this moment, I'm not sure I would want to wish away his autism.  His hurt, yes.  As a mom, I would love to shelter him from at least some of that.  But his autism is also a part of who he is, and I love ALL of him - including the autistic parts (kind of like how God loves ALL of us, too - only He does it better).  I am so excited to see what kind of person my boy becomes.  He is so unique and special, I am really enjoying watching him learn and grow and continue to become the kid he was meant to be.  It is a pleasure to parent this boy, even with the unique challenges that come along with it.  We will still work to give him the tools he needs to successfully navigate this world, but I don't want my objective to be to change him, to make him like everyone else.

This journey is an adventure.  Definitely.  There are low spots where we slog through the day and throw up our hands in exasperation, but they are overshadowed by the high spots - the peals of laughter, the curiosity and thirst for knowledge, the wacky creativity and sense of humor.  And the adorable missing-tooth grins.
  

Sluuuurp.  This is pretty tasty lemonade.


(for more info if you are really interested, our guy's "symptoms" are almost an identical match to Asperger's Syndrome, a disorder also on the autism spectrum.  More info can be found here).

phlebotomists and junior high kids

Today we are recovering from our weekend.  Nothing on the agenda today except laundry.  Nice.

Kiddo has been achy and lethargic for weeks now, so Friday I took him to the pediatrician.  She ordered LOTS of bloodwork, since it is not obvious what's going on.  They don't do the bloodwork there at the office, so we had to go down the street to the phlebotomist.  Don't you love how going to the doctor is not a one-stop trip anymore?  Ugh.  I took him there immediately after his appointment so that we could get it over with and not prolong the agony of anticipation.  He did fine until he was in the chair with the tourniquet in place, and then things quickly went south.  He FLIPPED OUT.  There were three of us working with him, and we couldn't keep him still enough.  The lady told me she wouldn't touch him with a ten-foot pole.  "Come back when you can bring someone with you to hold him down - preferably his dad, with some muscle," she said.  To complicate matters, it was a Friday, and Hubby and I were going away for the weekend - so if we didn't get that blood drawn that afternoon, Kiddo was going to have to think about it all weekend and we'd have to do it all over again on Monday.  By this point, my son and I were both in tears.  I called Hubby and asked him to come home right away so that we could hit the phlebotomist one more time before we left for the weekend.  Kiddo and I drove around town for awhile until Daddy could meet us at the office.  By the time Daddy arrived and it was time for us to go into the office to try again, Kiddo was a basket case.  So were his parents.  I went in to tell the phlebotomist that we were having trouble even getting him out of the car, and she said there wasn't much she could do.  "Well, what do I do if you won't touch him?" I asked, trying hard to keep the tears at bay. "Just a minute," she replies, "I want you to talk to Carrie."  She goes into the back room and comes back with her co-worker, who is a mom of a child who is very similar to our son.  I burst into tears and wept on her shoulder, so thankful just to find someone who understood what we had been through that afternoon.  She came out with me to the car, met my son, and talked him through the whole thing.  She worked with me and Hubby to get him into the office, hold him still without hurting him, and get the necessary bloodwork completed.  Afterwards, she pulled out her emergency stash of Disney Cars stickers and gave my sweaty, teary-eyed son a handful of stickers.  I could have kissed her.  Seriously.  Thank you, Lord, for Carrie.

Now emotionally exhausted (it is REALLY HARD to watch your child go through that), we all went home and finished our packing for the weekend.  Mom Mom came over and picked up a now happy Kiddo so that he could spend the weekend with her and Grandpa.  Hubby and I threw some stuff in our cars and headed out for a weekend retreat with the junior high youth group from church.  Our son had a blast at his grandparents' house (building roads in their living room)...

...and Hubby and I had a fun time connecting with the kids, playing games, having Bible studies, and swimming.  The cabin we stayed at has a large pond and an awesome water slide, always a highlight for everyone.

We were especially grateful for the water this weekend, as it was incredibly hot and humid.  And there is no A/C in the cabin, of course.  After swimming, the kids actually went down to the musty basement to play card games, as it was the only cool place in the house.

While the kids were swimming, these moths were swarming my camera and camera bag.

I don't know if they smelled something, or if it was just the heat that my camera and bag had soaked up from the sun, but they were all over!

We had a good weekend with the kids, despite the heat - we were just very grateful to come home to our air conditioning and our own bed.  Today I will tackle the pile of laundry, play with my kiddo, and wait for the doc to call with the test results.  Hoping for some answers (that ordeal has to be worth it, right??).