Monday, December 17, 2012

And the dam breaks....

After the widely read blog post "I am Adam Lanza's mother" all I can say, through gut wrenching tears, Dylan Hockley could be my son. I don't think I can ever be the same again. EVER.

Dylan Hockley died in Anne Marie Murphy's arms.

My husband walks into the house to me sobbing. He asks me what is wrong, alarm in his voice. He looks at the computer, "Oh."
 I turn it to him still sobbing. "Read."
He silently obeys. I put my head back on the couch and close my eyes. I wait a minute, then I hear his anticipated anguish. A few minutes pass. It feels like forever. He sits back, tears still steaming down his face, his voice thick,
"I wish we really did live on another planet."

Me too honey. Me too. I want to scoop up my kids and run. I want to hide in a hole. I want to hurt someone. I want to scream. I want to hug every child I pass until my arms give out. I do not want to dwell. I do not want to feel. I want to act. I want to make a difference. I want to feel like I'm moving instead of sitting, doing nothing.

This struck me to my very core(I thought that had already happened but I was wrong) Ignore the devastated woman over here, if you must. I am raw. I am not hiding.

Friday December 14th 2012 was the parent equivalent of 9/11. September llth was the first time in my life time that our country came together in soldiery grief.(or at least the biggest. read here) That was my first experience with tragedy, and soul questioning sorrow. 
It made me ask myself "What is humanity?"

Don't get me wrong, I am not trying to diminish 9/11, but this feels worse. This is innocence attacked. This offends every decent person across the face of the globe. This taps into our primal protective instincts. The cry of the world, not just this country, is our humanity crying out. This is what makes us sentient. This is what makes us alive.
 Love.
 I feel so much love welling out of my body it is painful and it may break me. I feel love for Ann Marie Murphy. I feel love for Dylan Hockley. I feel love for Charlotte Bacon. I feel love for every single child and adult that was present December 14th, those still here in this dim world and those in the light. I feel love for my community. I feel love for my daughter's teacher and my son's teachers ands aides. I feel love for every other human on this planet mourning along with me. I feel love for every child I see. My sorrow is because I love. 

I tried to igonre it because it hurt. I felt it on Friday but Monday broke the dam. Dylan Hockley broke the dam. 

Dylan Hockley could be my son. 




Saturday, December 15, 2012

Don't blame a brain type

Autism is a sea of individuals.
One putrid drop
does not speak for the masses.
 Judge the evil, don't blame a brain type.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Greasing the palm of the flappy hand

I have discovered bribing....and I think I LIKE it. Praise heaven above, the Goddess, Santa and whatever higher power that makes Pixar movies crack for kids. Something that actually gets my son's attention!

If there was an easy button for Autism, this would be mine. [disclaimer:This works for me. I don't know if it will work for you] I was at the store and there was a whole mess of match box cars on sale for $.69 so I purchased them, thinking I would just save them. I had to pick up Emerson so I hid them in this awesome drawer that is under the passenger seat of my new(to me) mom-mobile mini van. The MMMV! I hid them and promptly forgot about them, ADD style.

We live about 3 miles from my mom so it's our go-to outing destination(jealous of us world travelers aren't you?!) Emerson does not do well going home, he wants adventure.*Take that Autism stereo-types!*  So on one such day, sporting a headache and dealing with all three kids solo because the hubby was on night shift, I loaded the MMMV up with my spawn. I was trying to buckle the squirmy baby in the to-small-for-him infant carrier(that's now been remedied btw) listening to seven year old Meadow complain for the umpteenth time,when she mentions the word
 "home"....
Brain melting screaming ensues from Emerson.

"NOT go HOME! Home is broken! Home is absent!!! WhaaaaAAAA!!"

Thanks Meadow! I think "what can I do before he makes the baby cry too?" light bulb! I remember the cars.(and pat myself on the back for being such a thrifty spender, never mind the copious amounts I spend at Starbucks <--Don't judge)

"Emerson, do you want a present?"
"Whaa-Oh yes!" wipes eyes.
"You may have a present if you sit in your seat and be happy until we get home."
"Oh yes!....Mama, Mama, Mama, you want to go home??"

Well that little trick has served me well on many occasions, like over stimulating birthday parties at ChuckEcheese(I know I'm insane) or trips to friends houses, when he refuses to go back to the humdrum of our safe boring house, that I've dubbed the "fish bowl" btw.

I make sure to use this technique only when needed, triaging each situation for magnitude of meltdown so we can avoid the most atomic ones because, really, if he is that upset his brain stops working.(and so does mine for that matter) I use it sparingly like you would morphine in that triage scenario, because too much would be damaging but it makes me feel better knowing I have options. I'll go with this novel of metaphors and say picking your battles can make all the difference, like mushroom-cloud-difference.

 I know some people may judge my use of the word "bribery" because what I'm really talking about is reinforcement. I sort of like the image of myself as a 1920's gangster though, trying to corrupt my son with toy cars and iPhone apps.(better than being a triage nurse)  But what the futz? It's about survival and those meltdowns look like they must kill brain cells, so we do what works and whatever will get us a wiggle on!        <--20's slang is the elephant's eyebrows


 
1920's? Autism? Would that make him a flapper? Bwahaha!

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Puzzling out a path


 Having a child diagnosed with Autism
starts by
puzzling out a path
on an otherwise rocky road'
stopping every now and then to help
a fellow lost traveler.
-Tracy Quigley

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Mommy Buddy turns ONE!

Emerson age 2
    
  I've been writing for years but I've only been writing as "Mommy Buddy" from the planet Autism for exactly one year today. This has been one of the most fulfilling things I have ever done. Looking back I haven't really written about our diagnosis process (I will get around to it now that I've noticed) but I remember how scared and lost I felt. The period before the diagnosis was so much harder than after. That "not knowing" feeling can be so much more debilitating than the first time you hear someone say "I'm sorry but I think your child may be Autistic." Autistic? I didn't have anyone to ask advice from. I had the scary internet keeping me up all night because let's face it, researching can be both good and insanely bad for your piece of mind. All I was certain of was that my sweet beautiful boy wasn't on course....something was wrong.

I had been itching to write down our journey pretty much from the beginning. It always ended up on scraps of paper with scribbles all over it or in a forgotten notebooks that I unearth every now and then from the bottomless pit that is my house, like precious gems. I have never felt shy about talking about my son and his Autism, even when I notice I'm getting boring to others who are not as interested. That is where Mommy Buddy has been a life raft I have clutched on to. I know you wonderful people are just as hungry for the "A" word as I! I have never been more passionate about anything in my life. Sometimes that intensity can be overwhelming to the random layperson.

My very first facebook post on Mommy Buddy:

Introducing me: I am a stay at home mom to a 6 year old, very opinionated girl, a four year old boy who can melt any heart I don't care how curmudgeonly you are (and also happens to have High Functioning Autism) and a baby boy to be who has ignored his due date that was almost two weeks ago proving without a doubt that he belongs to this motley crew. Plus a husband that actually thanks me when I tell him he is being an ass..... I realised that I call my son 'buddy" so much that he started calling me "Mommy buddy" hence "Mommy Buddy" from the planet Autism was born....( I just started so give me a chance ;)

  Since then I have found myself being that voice that I so desperately sought but for other parent that are in the same dark place I was. It's been sort of surreal...but also therapeutic. Something I read always pops into my head:

"Be the change you want to see in the world."

Emerson age 4 and a half
 
 
Mommy Buddy belongs to all of you just as much as I. Thanks for trusting me at the helm! I have made so many connections and more great friends than I've ever had. (high school, take THAT! lol) The unsung benefit of having a child with Autism! The community! I think that it is sort of Awesome that I hit 2100 fans 12 months after we started....from the bottom of my heart, thank you
for being my lifeline. <3

Emerson age 5 and a half
 

Monday, October 1, 2012

Sensational!

October is Sensory Processing Disorder month so here is the Autism Parent Prayer modifyed just for SPD <3

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

"Mommy what happened to the castle?!" -Sept 11th

I was going to write a post today for September 11th but I looked back and realized I already had a while back. This was 2008 when Meadow was three and Emerson was about 6 months old. I didn't know anything about Autism or the world I'd be immersed in today, I was just a young mother of two who felt compeled to put pen to paper. This is better than anything I could write at the moment and seriously made me bawl re-reading it. Eleven years ago....



Today is September eleventh, seven years after the fall of the World Trade Center. I still can't wrap my mind around the fact that it has been that long; it feels way more recent. I remember that day, but more clearly I remember how I felt. I usually avoid the specials on TV every year because I know I'll cry and a small part of me will relive that day, but for some reason I had to watch one this year. It was all the raw footage taken by the people who were there, with no one commentating, just the radio recordings and news reporters and no commercials. 102 minutes. That's how long it was between the first plane hitting and the second tower finally falling. The entire time I watched I had tears in my eyes alternating between cold tears and fresh ones. There is something strange about having cold tears in your eyes, something that feels appropriate for remembering this day. Our whole world had changed in the blink of an eye and if that day had played out like any other day I don't think we would be in the America that we are today, be that good or bad.
As I watched, I remembered how that day had played out for me. I was a senior in high school and it was the first year that I was able to drive myself to school. Merissa(my younger sister) was a freshman that year and as we drove to school all I wanted to do was listen to some music, but every channel on the radio kept talking about some plane crashing into a building….I was 17, I think and I had no idea what the world trade center was; I just remember being annoyed that I couldn't find any music. Man I was naive and innocent…kind of like all of us. As I watched that footage tonight I realized, people were upset when the first tower was hit but nowhere as horrified as they were when the second plane came. It seems like no mater how much lead up we have, people still seem utterly shocked when disaster strikes. I didn't get upset that day until I finally listened and realized it wasn't an accident, but on purpose. Merissa and I went home early and watched the news all day.

The thing that still affects me the most is when I saw the people jumping out of the windows. I immediately was filled with horror and found myself wondering what I would do in their shoes. They were forced to be brave, because either choice, to stay and burn to death or to jump to death, they had to be brave. It's profoundly different to have death just happen to you, then to have to choose how you want to die; what you are brave enough to do…
As I watched, with tears in my eyes, my three year old daughter crawled into my lap and exclaimed,"Mommy what happened to the castle?! It's going to fall down? That's too naughty!" I didn't know what to say. I realized that I'm going to have to explain to her what happened and why. Why there is evil in the world. I guess I thought I still had some time to figure it out, but at three, she already knows the difference between good and bad. Good and naughty. I can't shield her from the naughty in this world, or spare her any pain in knowing what humans are capable of doing to other humans.

Then she got mad at me for crying and told me to "Cheer up! It'll be okay." She cuddled with me for a while and then told me," I don't want to watch anymore. It's too naughty!" I guess I don't need to shield her, just protect her sense of love and giving. That incidences like this one are just tantrums in the infancy of humanity, that maybe some day we will grow up…

Thursday, August 23, 2012

This CURE needs salt

There is lots of debate about "curing Autism".

I recently read an article about a study involving banked cord blood. They want to give children with Autism infusions of their own cord blood to see if it will "cure" them. We debate about finding a cure but this is the most legitimate attempt I've heard of. (though it does not apply to us since they are only using children with no genetic autism markers) The study was sparked by a boy with cerebral palsy that made shocking improvements almost immediately after his transfusion....something like that makes you really think.

I love my son for the amazing smart boy he is and wouldn't want to change a thing...but what if he was still non-verbal? What if he was so low functioning I didn't see the glimmers of personality that are him?? Would I feel the same if I was having to research group homes? I feel for parents who go through this and being completely honest, sometimes I feel guilty for complaining about his Autism to you guys because I KNOW we have it good.
I get to hear his voice, see his smiles. I see just how incredibly intelligent he is and sparks of how he looks at the world. I get to know him, even if it is not on the level others get to know their children. Poop smearing, meltdowns, speech delays, sensory overload, social skills and elopement aside, my son has SUPER talents and I celebrate them but where is the line?

As a fellow parent I would not judge someone for wanting a cure for Autism as long as it wasn't because you just couldn't accept that your child was different...I have met parents that are so focused on how their child isn't like everyone else that they don't see how amazing their child really is, or how damaging their attitude can be. THOSE people talking about a "cure" set my blood boiling. I guess the line would be how debilitating is the autism?

Let's enter metaphor land: if you are cooking a meal, and autism is salt, a pinch makes it awesome, a little more and it's a little hard to eat but you can manage, add more and you get jerky, but any more and it will kill you. In the realm of "Autism Pride" is severe autism worth an attitude like "Autism is awesome no matter what and the idea of a cure is offensive"? Quality of life should be a factor I think. Any other special need and I don't think there would be debate like this.

I think a lot of the debate is mere semantics. The wording getting everyone's panties in a bunch. We ALL want the best possible life for our children and loved ones on the Autism spectrum. Plain and simple. Does the label of the means matter so much? (For a group obsessed with labels lol) Let's use the cord blood as an example: if it did help with severe symptoms of Autism, would that be curing it or treating it? If a therapy successfully changes a behavior is that curing it? And the cord blood is a naturally occurring substance made by the person receiving it...doesn't that mean healing something that was damaged?

I don't think Autism is the result of a damaged person. I think Autism is salt. Without salt, everything is bland, but too much salt and you've got a real problem. I love salt! ....but that doesn't mean it doesn't give me high blood pressure from time to time. lol

Friday, August 3, 2012

Autism Parent Serenity Prayer

God grant me the Serenity to accept that the world does not understand Autism,
The Courage to take my child out in public anyway,
and the Wisdom to know when it's time to go home. ~
By Tracy Quigley
aka "Mommy Buddy" from the planet Autism

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

This is NOT a spectator sport

Has anyone else had the thought that being the parent of a special needs child is like EXTREME parenting? Parenting by itself to a typical child is like golf, baseball, or basketball. Each parent chooses the style that best suits them to games that almost everyone at least knows the basics of. Not to say parenting is a walk in the park, because it's not. You sure break a sweat and get a nice work out. Parenting a child with special needs is like, all of the sudden being handed a snowboard and asked to go down an expert black diamond run. Or how about that moment when you all of a sudden feel like you are in a free fall, when you realize there is something wrong with your child?


There are lots of different Extreme sports just like there are many different special needs. They all have different rules and require different skills and the only way you get good at them is practice and time, and a LOT of self sacrifice. I guess the biggest difference is that you don't get a choice. You win the worst lottery out there, but there is always rewards, even if they are hard to find sometimes. Also extreme sports fans seem almost obsessive about their chosen sport and can appreciate that same zeal in fellow aficionados even if they love an entirely different activity. It's the same for special needs parents. They turn into advocates and pretty much eat, sleep, and breath whatever special need dominates their lives. They can also appreciate what it's like for other parents even if they live with a completely different set of issues. Maybe the isolation and love of our unique amazing children unite us. Or maybe it's the humbling moment of acceptance that the world is harsh and you want it to be softer for your child and ANY other child or person that doesn't live up to that heartbreaking term "normal".


My extreme sport is Autism. I think Autism is like the UFC. It certainly kicks my ass sometimes. It feels like ultimate fighting but I'm pretty sure I'm NOT going to be the champion.  My awesome little guy might be though. It's just that the fight isn't over and never will be. He will fight it his whole life and never get a break from training and duking it out with the world at large. All I can do is be his coach and sit on the side lines hoping he doesn't get too hurt and soothing him when he inevitably does. Cuts and bruises aside, there is nothing like the moments when he SHINES.


With Autism its not "Hey Mom, I'm hungry" Its: Hey mom try to figure out what I need while we both get frustrated.

It's not "What should we have for dinner?" It's "What will you EAT without screaming from the room if I put it in front of you"


It's not "Oh, my child is such a chatterbox! All I want is a little peace and quiet." It's "I wonder if he will ever have a conversation with me or speak in complete sentences."

It's not "Hey let's go to the store" it's "Do we REALLY need toilet paper?"

It's not "Don't you take that tone with me!" It's "OMG did you hear him use that inflection in his voice?!"

It's not " Look at me when I'm speaking to you!' ...well I guess that one is the same except maybe a little more like "Hey buddy, remember to look at my eyes when I'm talking to you"

And with high functioning Autism it's not "Get him away from the computer before he messes something up." it's more like "Get him off the computer before he spends $500 on Amazon!"


I only know what it's like to play Autism, but I have EXTREME empathy for all of my fellow extreme parents. We are a breed apart and I have never met another group of people that are so supportive and giving. Always willing to share advice or just a shoulder, without saying "It could be worse." or "It'll get better." Just "I understand." That is the most soothing balm for the black eyes and broken bones that come along with living this extreme life.


Maybe we should call it extreme kidding because folks, let's face it, when raising a special needs child, a sense of humor is essential. :D

Monday, March 5, 2012

Kreativ Blogger Award

I'm an award winner....WOW!

Rules of acceptance are:

1- Thank the blogger who presented you with the award.
Thank you Grape Jelly on Pizza! I think you are awesome! You are one of my favorite fellow alter-ego pages rofl! It makes me feel pretty good that you thought of me ;)


2- Post a photo of the award.


3- Share 10 things about yourself that your readers don't know.

~1. My first name is Tracy. Having an alter ego is SUPER fun! I have more fans than I have friends on my personal page LOL

~2. I'm NOT a pet person. I've tried. I guess I have enough trouble taking care of tiny humans that poop on the carpet, that  tiny animals that poop on the carpet are just beyond me.

~3. I am one of 6 siblings: 2 half sisters and 2 full brothers and a sister...my Dad was a bit of a hoe-bag...I'm sure I have more, I just don't know about them.

~4. I have never had a dishwasher....well that's not entirely true. I never had one growing up but when we moved into our house 7 years ago we had one but it never really worked and I gave up on it after a couple of months :/

~5. I'm ghetto. My mother taught me, though she would say it was just being resourceful. I have SO many things that I have duct tapped it's not even funny!I know how to make due. I lived for almost a year and a half with NO stove. While pregnant. I had a hot plate. I also drive a 2 door Toyota Yaris. It looks just like a clown car when my family of five get out of it!

~6. I'm sort of crunchy (aka hippy) My mother and grandmother...and great-grandmother were raised vegetarian. I was also taught re-incarnation. I try to eat organic and have breastfed all of my children. I have started participating in milksharing. So far I have shared 350oz of breast milk in 2 months. I had my latest baby at home and left him uncircumcised. I am passionate about Astrology and hope to study it more in depth when my children are older and I have more time (It is intensively detailed). I'd love to follow in the steps of my Aunt and Grandfather and become an astrologer( I respect your beliefs, please respect mine <3)

~7. I can paint! My family had a sign painting business the whole time I was growing up. Nothing brings back my childhood like the speckles of paint that spray on you when you are using a paint roller. No painters tape for this gal! I can do it freehand ;)

~8 I met my Hubby when I was 14. We started dating 2 days before I turned 15 (he was 16) and we got married at 19 and 20. This April will be our 9th wedding anniversary <3

~9. I am a science fiction LOVER. I blame my dad. Star Trek, and Tolken are ALL him. Buffy the Vampire Slayer is all me though. No joke I could probably quote every episode ( all 144 of them) Instead of music I put Buffy on when I clean. Oh Netflix, I love how you let me nerd-out!!

~10. Speaking of music, I love country. I never thought I would say that but in my old age I've gone back to my roots. I'm a Texas girl, born and raised, and nothing reminds me of my dad like Willie Nelson. In high school I was the SCARY Goth girl who listened to Nine Inch Nails and Marlyn Manson. Yuck.


4- Choose 6 people to present the award to. (I decided to choose 3 because since I know each of these people in real life, they count as 2. Them and their alter ego lol)

~365 things to do in Bastrop Texas happens to be my big sister AND best friend. You make me feel like a VERY lazy person <3

~Parenting with Aspergers- Carrie You ROCK! I have never met someone that I had so many unrelated things in common with! ;)

~Lindsay's Top Autism Tips- Oh Lindsay, where to start?! We see eye to eye on just about everything! I really love people who appreciate my bitchyness and enjoy a good rant rofl!!

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Where I live....


I wrote this blurp a while back on my personal FB page and it got me thinking:  


"I think a very unique thing happens to a parent when they finally accept that they have a child with a disability....everything falls away and the only thing that matters is THAT child. As human beings most people, without realizing it really focus on shallow things (the "right" clothes, the "right" house, the "right" friends, the "right" way to act) There is a point where we as parents understand " This is NOT about me! This is about giving my child the BEST possible quality of life that they can have." It is a very humbling moment. Most people never go through something like that so I guess it is hard for them to understand how that thoroughly strips everything away. Lets face it, the public in general is uncomfortable with special needs. That "Holland" moment though makes you understand all the other families that love a special needs person, NO MATTER the disability. So I say be an Advocate but also be an Ambassador. Introduce people to our community, "our world" but understand that they will never live here until someone they love does."

This was what first got me thinking about "the planet Autism". When you have a child that is different then the norm it makes you feel VERY isolated. I feel like I live in a fish bowl but I usually don't realize it until we step out into the "real world". At home most things that can be broken already are, all of the important items are hidden or out of reach, there is easy access to the washer and steam cleaner for items that have not been deemed "no-no"s yet and the doors have deadbolt locks that need keys to open them. When we are out, I find myself missing the safe fish bowl, but if I let that feeling take over, how many things will my child miss out on? Or my typical child for that matter?



Add caption
I really want to embrace the inner bitch and not care what people think but I just haven't mastered it yet. It doesn't help that Autism is for the most part an invisible disability. People look at my beautiful child having a HUGE melt down and immediately assume that it is my poor parenting skills. How could any self respecting mother let her 4 year old act that way? The irony is I remember being that judging person...Looking at someone putting a "kid leash" on their child or putting them in a stroller that they were CLEARLY too big for, and shaking my head at their lazy parenting. Now that I have personally DONE those things out of necessity, I will NEVER again judge. Now I do what works, and I know it doesn't look that good on paper, but I'm more interested in having a functioning child than being kosher. I would also like to point out that I have gone the other direction too, and spent many hours trying to be autistic with him. Lining up every soda can in the house on the kitchen table, watching the credits to a movie over and over again just to see how happy it made him. Pointing out every license plate in a parking lot, counting every fire hydrant on the way home from the store, spending hours typing different numbers on an excel spread sheet. Hell, even tasting the deodorant just to see what the vast appeal was(yeah, yuck btw).
Honestly I find myself stimming a little when I get excited about something.
I am so thankful for my life and my children. I find it funny that this small tight knit community that I am happy to be a part of (yes, HAPPY) has it's own "politics". I am not interested in 'curing' my son, but helping him to emerge from himself. I have NO idea why he is autistic and to be honest I don't really think about it all that often. I think about ways to help him communicate and interact with people. I think about how to help him improve his special 'super" skills, and I think about what he sees. He understands more than I would have ever guessed. I know I am not a perfect parent (no such thing really) but I do know that I would do anything just to help my son be a part of the world. Seeing as the world is not likely to change just for him, it's my job to teach him adaptability, which is no small feat for some one on the spectrum. So, handmade signs for the grocery basket reading " The child in this basket is autistic, screaming may happen" and extra pants in hand, I try to leave my small, safe, fish bowl as often as my bravery allows.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

A year of yucky

An email to Emerson's teacher dated 1/26/2011-Exactly one year ago


"I think that it is just a phase that will loose its appeal after a
while. I think that he likes that it gets a reaction. It started because I told him that I
thought screaming was "yucky" and after that everything he doesn't like and some
things that he does, are ALL "yucky". I've been trying to ignore the behavior
at home to try and not give it any negative attention. He does seem to get
upset when you tell him that 'Emerson is yucky"...The way I look at it is, this is
a developmental stage that two year olds go through where everything is 'NO!' and if he
is finding his voice than that is good. It might be annoying now but I think he
doesn't usually stay stuck on thing for too long. :)"


HA Famous last words! (Oh, 'words', you have become my life) A year later "yucky is going long and strong. It is the most dedicated he has been in his whole life (almost 5 years of it) "Go to bed is yucky", "Stop singing. Singing is yucky", "No screaming, is yucky." "Sit on the potty is yucky", "I love you, is yucky." , "Go to school is YUCKY!!!!" even "yucky is yucky." And who taught him "yucky"?? Yep it was ME. I don't even have someone else to blame! Karma is certainly a bitch. I know I should be incredably happy that he is even talking, and don't get me wrong, I AM, but some days 'yucky' is gonna be the death of me. Where most kids go through terrible twos and all of the other typical phases, I'm gonna think back on this as the "year of yucky" I just hope I don't have to revise it to "years" Ha!

I'm Dumb. Yeah, you heard me, DUMB...potty training a child with HFA

I'm DUMB.

Rewind: I was at the grocery store shopping. Both of my sons needed diapers My 3 month old and my almost 5 year old. Having to buy size 2 AND size 6(as well as pull ups) put into sharp relief that my boys were on the same level, at least in regard to toileting (or lack there of). I started doing the math looking for a deal; the top of the line diapers for the baby were about .25 a diaper. Okay that's fine. Then I did the math for Emerson's- .35 for the cheaper brand....WTH!! I don't really know why this bothered me. My son is autistic, I know that everything is going to take longer to learn, if it EVER gets learned. But for some reason It pissed me off! I left the store with NO pull ups and NO bigger diapers.

Emerson had a nasty diaper rash(maybe that is why I was pissed about diapers) After his bath I decided to let him go bare-bottomed to air out, free-range Emmy, and deal with an accident when it happened.... The rest of the week I just let him be naked after school (the rash was THAT bad) I kept taking him to the bathroom to sit on the toilet and try to get him to go. IT WAS HORRIBLE. He would spend the whole time screaming at me, getting aggressive, and I could feel myself loosing it. Spending months working on eye contact, years on talking, every moment on learning how to play and interact with others, those all pale in comparison to potty training. They seem like a walk in the park in comparison! (they weren't) I felt like giving up, so I sort of did. I was so frustrated that the thought of just cleaning up the mess after an accident seemed like an exceptable alternative to loosing it with my child and turning into REALLY mean mommy (I know, I suck)

So I'm sitting on the couch nursing the baby while Emerson is playing on the floor with his cars. I half heartedly ask him "Emmy, do you need to go to restroom time?" "No, I need play." Okay. 10 minutes later he gets up and runs to the bathroom and pees in the toilet- WHAT?!

Okay heres the part where I'm DUMB-

I've been trying to potty train my genius level five year old like he was a typical two year old. DUMB! Sitting in the bathroom over and over again was frustrating both of us because I was insulting his intelligence without even realizing it! He kept telling me he was done, because he didn't need to go. I thought he was just being stubborn. All of the other times we have tried he has been wearing underwear. Something about being completely 'free' made him more aware of when he needs to go. He is, like most autistic children, a creature of habit (understatement), Peeing in the pull up is just what we have done for 2 years and the diaper for the whole rest of his life before that. For a child that can read since he was 3 and count to the thousands, can navigate the internet like its a child's toy designed JUST for him, why did I think that he didn't understand the concept that pee goes into the toilet?? Why go to the bathroom when you can just pee in your pull up? I mean, isn't that what its there for? I guess I keep underestimating him and don't even realize it. He gets me trained on taking care of him in the easiest way possible but its the easiest for HIM. I guess this Mommy has been stuck in "babymode" and when you don't have social constraints, like not being interested in what your peers think, what incentive is there to be a "big kid"?

He keeps getting me with these "I'm Dumb" moments. He did the same thing when I discovered he could read.... 'I'M DUMB."

My sweet boy, maybe some day I will stop being DUMB and realize there is nothing you can't do! <3

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Aye aye Captain!

I think I will be DOMED to be called 'sir' by my almost 5 year old son forever! I keep telling him when he talks to ME it's "Yes ma'am" because I'm a girl.......Then I realized where has been hearing "yes sir" from recently. Damn you Netflix! Every single Star Trek series that this closet Trekkie has been watching and they call the women "sir" How can I possibly argue with that logic???
At first I thought it was just him and his gender confusion, then I realized it really was my fault when he started to say "Space...The final fronteer...." LOL