Month: June 2018

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The Top 13 Things Having Children with Autism Taught Me

Top 13 Things Having Children with Autism Taught Me

Living with children with autism is a never-ending learning experience.  The therapy that worked today may not work tomorrow and the shirt that could easily be worn tomorrow might be one that couldn’t even be touched last week.  Parents are constantly on their toes for surprising new behaviors and we are always learning new things.  Here are the top thirteen things I’ve learned over the last 30 years as an autism mom.

  1. How to take out a toilet. Seriously, this is probably the one I’m most proud of.  Rob used to have a fascination with what floats and what just makes a large splash.  And since he knew he wasn’t supposed to play in the toilet, he would flush whatever he dropped so he wouldn’t get caught.  I can take out a toilet, remove the offending object (often match box cars) and reinstall the toilet in 15 minutes or so.  The only thing that ever stumped me was a plastic shot glass.  I was ready to permanently remove the toilet and insist they use a five gallon bucket over that one.
  2. How to find the softest shirts in the store. Rob’s severe sensory issues and refusal to wear shirts with sleeves or ones that he deems are not soft enough has caused me to return a LOT of clothes. No amount of washing can make a shirt soft enough for him, so we only purchase the softest ones we can find and cut the sleeves out of every single one.  I’m in the process of discovering a way to use the short sleeves cut from shirts.
  3. How to control a terrible temper. When I was young, I had a temper.  I’m sure my parents doubted I would ever learn to control it, but I did.  I needed every single bit of patience I had some days when both kids were having rough days – and I have a typical daughter, too.  I learned that getting angry really wasn’t worth the effort most days.  But, I also learned that when people realize I could blow up easily, I tend to get their attention fairly quickly – and if people see me crying in anger, they scatter.
  4. Laughing really is the best medicine. And honestly, most things are funny, if not at the time, then a little later.  I’ll admit – I still have a few days that are not funny and never will be.  They are days that I thought I would never laugh again.  But, I made it and so will every other autism parent that thinks today is the worst.  Red Koolaid slowing running down my freshly painted dining room walls is funnier than heck now.  At the time, I was ready to blow a gasket.  And that day inspired the name of my blog.
  5. Cinnamon and pepper never leave your sweeper. Yes, it’s true.  You can change the bags many times.  You can clean the guts of the sweeper.  You can use it over and over to sweep up carpet freshener, but you will always smell pepper and cinnamon until you get fed up and throw the sweeper away.  Also – green, blue and yellow food coloring has to wear off your children and it looks like they have healing bruises for weeks after painting themselves with it.  I never did find the red color.  Another thing I learned from this day – children with autism, when coached by a typical sibling – can climb drawers and cupboards like monkeys and enjoy every minute of it.
  6. The same brand of pretzel in different shapes tastes different. It’s true.  The little midget pretzels are acceptable only in certain brands, while the long rods in those same brands must never be touched.  Likewise, the long rods of another brand are delicious, while the little sticks can never be eaten.  Also – the pretzels that can be eaten at home usually cannot be eaten at any other house. Cherry tomatoes are wonderful snacks, but sliced tomatoes are yucky.  Chicken nuggets and French fries are acceptable meals at any place, at any time, but pizza can only be frozen, from a box.  Waffles should not be heated up, nor have any syrup.
  7. All Sesame Street characters, the Power Rangers and the Wizard of Oz are real people. And if you use them the right way, those characters can teach a child (or adult who is still obsessed with them) almost anything.  For years, Rob used lines from the Wizard of Oz, Lion King and Willie Wonka (the original) to communicate his needs.  I am so thankful that most movies are readily available now because when he was little, it was really difficult to find some of them and he wore them out quickly.  I’ve used silly voices (I’m especially good at Elmo, Cookie Monster, Grover and Ernie) to coach my daughter.  I can use stuffed toys to help her communicate when she is getting upset.  Autism parents do what we have to do to avoid screaming meltdowns.
  8. How to be nice – until it’s time to not be nice. I first heard this line from Patrick Swayze’s character in the movie “Roadhouse.”  It fits an autism parents’ life to a T!  When you have to deal with doctors, therapists, teachers, insurance companies, hospitals, other staff and your children, sometimes, you get fed up.  It’s hard to always be nice to people as our parents taught us to be.  I always tried to be nice, but when people decided they could make decisions for my kids based on charts and not the kids themselves, I learned to be not nice.  I learned to stand up for what they needed and not back down when people with degrees thought they knew everything.  They are incredibly smart (usually) but they don’t know what’s best for my kids.  I know my kids better than anyone!  So I’m nice to everyone – until it’s time to not be nice.  Then, watch out, people.
  9. How to speak up for us. I was a shy kid.  I didn’t like being the first person to speak unless I knew the crowd very well. Standing in the background was easier for me and I was quiet in crowds.  Speaking in front of a class was terrifying and likely to make me sick to my stomach.  After autism, I have been invited to speak at many meetings to share autism awareness and the stories of our family circus.  I enjoy doing these presentations because I know every time I reach one person with awareness, that person will reach another.  I also learned to speak in IEP meetings.  After all, I knew my kids the best and I knew what we needed.  Anyone who has been to IEP meetings, or any type of meeting about your child, knows how uncomfortable they can be, especially for the parents.  I learned to listen objectively and to think before I responded to get the kids what they needed.  It wasn’t easy, but my shyness is officially gone.
  10. It’s ok to ask for help.  I know most people know this, but this is still a hard one for me.  I hate, and I mean, hate, asking for help with anything.  I am always told how strong I am and to admit that I need help just drives me crazy.  But, slowly, over the years, I’ve learned that everyone needs help at times and that the strongest people know when to ask.  I have had a few emotional crying meltdowns because I kept quiet about things and didn’t ask for someone to watch the kids so I could sleep.  It’s still not my favorite thing to do, but I do ask when I need help – whether it’s watching the kids or just someone to talk to.
  11. Sleep is the most precious thing. Go ahead and laugh, but if you have ever had to go without sleep for weeks or months on end, you will understand this.  For many, many years, Rob couldn’t go to sleep at night and when he finally did crash, he was up and down several times each night.  I was lucky – he didn’t try to leave the house or destroy anything.  He just got a snack and lay on his bed, singing.  And by singing, I mean, squealing, laughing and shouting odd phrases until he could fall asleep again.  And on those rare nights that he actually went to sleep, Casey would be up singing, dancing and folding socks.  I am so thankful that I finally found the right combination to help him go to sleep and stay asleep most nights.  I am a new person with sleep.  Without it, I am a grouchy, crying emotional wreck.
  12. Socks are amazing and wonderful. Casey’s obsession with socks has been going on for almost 20 years with no signs of stopping. She easily has 250-300 pairs of socks and is always looking for more.  She has every color, holiday and animal you can think of, I think.  To be honest, I don’t really look at them much.  She can spend hours in front of her dresser or on the floor folding and refolding socks while she listens to music.  It is one of her coping techniques.  It’s also a great way to find kind people in the world.  Everyone who meets my daughter finds out her love for socks – usually because she is pulling up their pant leg to see what their socks look like.  Yes – even to complete strangers.  While this is usually met with a smile after I explain why she is doing it, at other times, it isn’t a pleasant experience.  I still hope the man who screamed at her in a craft store many years ago remembers us.  I sent the kids to the van with their sister and then I had a rather loud, possibly cuss-word filled discussion with him.  When it was over, the manager told him to leave and the crowd clapped for me. 
  13. It is possible to hear the same word/phrase/sound for hours and eventually not notice it. Rob gets fixated on phrases that he uses to help calm his anxiety.  When I sold our van last summer, after having it for 13 years, he said “Get the van.”  And said it and said it.  For the first few weeks, it was pretty much constant.  We drove to a park near our house (a five to six minute drive) and he said it more than 50 times.  I heard it every single time that night, but eventually, I only heard it when he was right in my face or yelling it at the top of his lungs.  It took him almost 6 months to stop saying it a lot.  That phrase still pops out every once in a while.  He has several phrases that he repeats over and over when his anxiety is running high.

Any situation can be a learning experience, if you are willing to think outside the box and laugh a lot.  Parenting is funny but when you had autism to the mix, life really gets interesting!  Now – what cool things has autism taught you?

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Autism and the Every Day Never Simple Questions

Autism and the Every Day Never Simple Questions

Autism is part of our lives.  A huge part – even if we don’t always consciously think about it.  I’m facing a decision  now that should be fairly easy, but autism is causing me to rethink everything.

Several months ago, I lost my sweet lab to lymphoma.  She was just a baby when we got her and she grew up around the noise and unexpected jumps, squeals and screams that occur around here.  Even with that, when Casey had a meltdown, Eve would get anxious, barking and trying to get between Casey and I.  She never tried to bite Casey or even jump on her –  just barked like crazy.

(Picture the scene – Casey jumping up and down and screaming bloody murder while the dog is barking a high pitched bark and bouncing around with Rob rocking and yelling “no fits, Casey!”  It’s a wonder my neighbors haven’t moved away!)

Losing her was one of the hardest things I’ve had to deal with.  She was my best friend – the one who listened as I vented and let me cry on her shoulder.  When Mandy and Cory lived in Texas and it was just Casey, Rob and I in the house, Eve was my buddy.  I talked to her about everything and she kept me from being lonely.  When she died, I felt like I lost part of me.  I had no idea when I would ever feel like getting another dog.

In the last few weeks, I’ve been thinking about it.  I miss having a dog around the house, but I still think about her and wonder if I’m ready for another one.  She had so many quirks (I sometimes think she “caught” autism!  🙂  )  I wonder if I could let go of my expectations of the same quirks in another dog.  I wonder if I will love another one as much as I loved her.  And I wonder if another dog could be okay living in my circus.

I thought about getting an older dog – one that may not be as adoptable because of their age.  But – what if they can’t handle the noise?  the sudden movements?  The kids’ safety is the most important thing to me and a new dog is scary.  So maybe a puppy would be better.  One that could grow up with us like Eve did.

And today I realized that once again, autism is dictating our lives.  It should be a simple decision about whether to get a dog or not.  I get so tired of having to overthink every single decision I make.  Would Rob really wear that super soft shirt?  Will Casey be mad if I switch plans from one day to another?  Even what to have for meals!  (though that isn’t as  bad as it once was – I make what I make and Rob adapts to it or makes a sandwich)

It’s exhausting to have to think through every choice I make.  The kids want to go swimming.  Simple enough, right?  No, it isn’t.  Taking them to the pool without help is not going to happen.  Neither is taking them to the lake (though that would be easier, simply because they will stay together and with me).  I can’t take them to the river alone.

They want to go hiking.  Okay – great!  Outside and exercise… except, again, it isn’t that easy.  If we go  near a creek, Rob wants to sit and watch the water and relax while Casey wants to walk as far as she can.  He will walk, too, but watching water relieves his anxiety so much, it’s hard to drag him away from it.

This isn’t to say we don’t go lots of places without an extra adult, but going to strange places or where there are possible dangers is so much easier with an extra set of eyes on them.  They don’t run off like they used to, but who knows when it might happen again?   We do lots of things, but it’s always seems like it’s a big decision to go.  I’m tired of that.

I just want to decide to do something and do it without trying to think through every possible thing that can go wrong.  I want to take the kids to the pool if they want to go.  (I have taken them, but it’s hard and not something I really like to do.  We have a large aquatic center with a kids play area and sets of water slides – too much area for me to be able to watch them easily.)  Tracie will go with me – but there again, we can’t just go.  I need to see if she’s free and wants to go and plan from there.  I wonder if families who just decide to go swimming and leave know how lucky they are?

I try not to overthink choices too much but it’s hard when Casey and Rob are so different – even without the added stress of autism.  She wants to go – he wants to stay.  She will try anything – he has to think about it and often says no.   They are similar in ways, just like siblings usually are.  But, still, don’t you think it’s exhausting to always have to think about big (and little!) decisions so much?

Don’t you wish you could just say “Yes!  We’re going!” without thinking about the possible sensory issues or meltdowns or safety or food preferences?  I know I do!  At the same time, I wouldn’t change either of the kids.  Autism is as much a part of them as their hair color.  There are just times that I don’t want to have to think about how autism will affect a decision.

Most of the time, I don’t really think about it, I guess.  Our life is autism and I don’t think about a life without it.  I make decisions just like every other parent, based on what would be best for our family.  Autism is just so unpredictable that sometimes, decisions are hard to make.  I wish I could just decide to get another dog and go pick one out.

I asked Casey what she thought about a dog.  She wants a big one.  Rob wants Eve.  So do I.  So like everything else, we’ll see what happens.  I’m a firm believer in things happening when they are supposed to.  When it’s time, the right dog will find us.  Eve will make sure of it.

 

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A Diagnosis of Autism – Now What do you Do?

A Diagnosis of Autism - Now What?

Mandy was at a craft show today and met a lady whose grandson had recently  been diagnosed with autism.  Mandy talked to her for a while and shared a little of the conversation with me.  It brought back memories of similar discussions with other parents I’ve had over the years and shows again how lucky we were with our first few months.

Casey was very healthy and got her well-baby check-ups at our county health office, so our doctor never had a chance to tell us she was behind in many areas.  The nurse at the clinic didn’t seem concerned, but did say we should see about speech therapy for her.  I started driving her to a city 35 miles from home once a week for therapy.

Her therapist suggested she might benefit from preschool, so I enrolled her in the Y.  The first day I went to pick her up, I could hear her screaming from outside.  She was under a cupboard and out of control.  She was scared to death and overwhelmed by the noise and the differences in her routine.  She eventually settled down, but it was clearly not the right place for her.  The teachers were amazing and got on contact with our local school district.

Casey started her new preschool and loved it.  She adored her teachers and they understood a little more about autism.  During her summer break, she was officially diagnosed with autism.  We were pretty sure autism was the cause of her communication difficulties and the other signs that were beginning to show up in her life so hearing the doctor say the words wasn’t a big shock.

Since she was already enrolled in a specialized preschool, we merely continued with what we were doing – speech once a week and working with her on the same things her teachers were doing.  And I also began to watch Mandy and baby Robbie for signs of autism.  I couldn’t change it if they did have autism, but I wanted to know early.  When he was old enough, he started the same preschool that the girls had gone to.  He was already getting therapy before we got a diagnosis for him.

I had an amazing support system with teachers, therapists, family and friends.  No one really knew anything, but we all learned together and same days were not good.  There weren’t as many options for therapy in 1991 as there are now and when we did find something we wanted to try, it was rarely available in our small town – or insurance refused to pay for it.  And so the fight began…

I had to argue with the insurance company.  I had to call the doctor over and over to get prescriptions for therapies and then try to figure out how to pay for it.  Social Security wasn’t an option as it is based on family income until the child is 18.  So I did what I could and kept reading.

Most of the time, I felt incapable of getting the kids what they needed.  I was just a mom – not a professional with a bunch of letters after their name.  Surely, they knew what was best – right?  No!  And that was the hardest and first lesson you will have to learn.  YOU know your child best – their needs, their difficulties, what sets them off, what makes them happy.  Yes, you need to listen to the professionals, but never be too afraid or too shy to stand up and speak your mind.

I was too shy.  For months, the special education coordinator intimidated me.  He intimidated everyone – often, in meetings, he tapped pencils or shuffled papers and seemed to be not listening to a darn thing that was being said.  At the end of the meeting, he would hand me a paper and tell me to sign it.  And for a long time, I did.  I would leave meetings in tears – from anger and sadness.  Until one day, he shuffled his papers one too many times and Mama Bear showed up for the first time.

I slammed my hand on the table and told him that she might be a number to him but Casey was MY DAUGHTER and he was going to listen to every word being said or I would go over his head and find someone who gave a damn.  That was a turning point for us – and when he retired many years later, I called him a friend.   Always, always be nice as long as you can – but, stand up for yourself and your child, too.

Find a doctor you are comfortable with and who listens to you.  You are allowed to ask questions – if your doctor rushes you out or doesn’t acknowledge your child, you may want to find another doctor.  Hopefully, your doctor is like both of ours – they are willing to do whatever they can to help the kids.

One of the first phone calls I really recommend you make is to your county board of developmental disabilities.  They will have services that can help your family and be able to point your in the right direction for other help.   Most of the time, when your child becomes a client of your county board, you will be assigned a case manager (they are called service and support in our area) who will be the person you contact whenever you need help.  We have had amazing SSA’s over the years – I’ve cried to them and yelled and told them I was just too tired to deal with anymore.  They are my friends and I’m so grateful to each!

Social Security might be an option to help pay for services for your child, but remember, until your child is 18 it is based on family income.  It’s worth a call, though.

If your child is 3 or older, call your local school district.  Just a head’s up, though – all of this takes time and you may have to call more than once to get what your child needs.  Be persistent and know that, while your child is the most important to you, the district has 100’s of kids who are just as important.  Try to be patient – but persistent.  The squeaky wheel gets the grease, after all.

Some hospitals have therapy departments that may be able to service your child.  It might also be possible for lower rates if your insurance won’t pay.  It can’t hurt to ask.  Get used to asking for things because that’s a new part of your life.

Remember that this stuff doesn’t need to be done all at once.  Give yourself time to adjust to your new life.  Your child hasn’t changed, but having a diagnosis changes you.  Before, you were just a parent, now you are a parent of a special needs child.  Give yourself time to grieve, if you feel the need.  Some days, all you need to think about is just to take deep breaths.  Take care of yourself – that’s more important than ever.

Look for support, either in a group or online.  You will be surprised at how much better you will feel just by hearing what other parents have to say.  Lean on others and let them lean on you.  Most important – remember your child is still the sweet little person you love more than anything in the world.  Autism won’t define him/her any more than their hair color!

 

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Autism and a Mom’s Fear of No Fear

Autism and a Moms Fear of no Fear

A few weeks ago, I was reminded again that even though Rob has learned to fear a few things, he still doesn’t have a clue about how dangerous some situations can be.  Just another fun aspect of autism we deal with every day.

Rob was walking with a group from their workshop and never bothered to stop at a corner to look both ways before he stepped off the curb.  Luckily, the staff was quick and there were no cars coming.  But still, I have been trying to teach both of them to look both ways before crossing a street since they were tiny and it just won’t sink in.

Casey will flip her head like she’s looking, but she’s just doing what she thinks I want.  She isn’t really looking at all.  And she’s stepping into the street as she “looks.”  Rob won’t even hesitate to walk across a parking lot or a street.  He doesn’t even pretend to be looking.  I’ve got a grip on both of them or they are close enough to grab when we walk anywhere.

Part of the reason they aren’t scared is that even though I tell them a car might hit them, it’s never happened.  They have nothing to help them understand that they could get hurt and very badly.  I think the only way for either of them to understand the danger would be for one (God forbid!) to get hit by a car.  Even then, I’m doubtful the other one would be more careful.  It’s not something they have ever seen happen, so obviously, it’s never happened to anyone.

They both understand a stop sign.  They just don’t know why it’s there.  I’ve tried saying “Look, I’m stopping at a stop sign” when I’m driving, but they don’t even look up.  When we walk, I say “Look – a stop sign.  What do we do?”  One of them will say “stop” as they walk right past the sign.

I don’t want to even think about the times I walked through parking lots when Rob was a baby.  I would be carrying Rob, with a death grip on Casey and praying that Mandy would hold Casey’s other hand (Mandy is 18 months older than Rob – hardly more than a baby herself when I was trying to get us safely to the car).  I carried Rob longer than he needed, simply because he and Casey would both dart away and it was easier to carry him.  Thank God, we never had a major issue (just a minor one with Mandy when she was older!)

When Casey was 7 or 8, we were all outside playing.  Suddenly, I realized she wasn’t in the backyard anymore.  I thought I would throw up as I ran to the front of the house and the street.  No sign of her – I ran around the house again, calling her name and wondering who to call first to help me find her.  As I was making another circle, I heard her giggle and looked up to see her legs hanging off the porch roof.  She had climbed the wrought iron corner posts and was just sitting there.  I still don’t know how she managed to climb over the edge without falling.

I stood there looking up at her while she laughed and kicked and wondered if I could get her down without both of us falling.  I was heading in to call the fire department (my dad was a captain) and ask for help when I had an idea.  I asked Casey if she wanted a popsicle – and she flipped onto her belly, stuck her feet on the posts and came down.  I couldn’t breathe until her feet were safely on the porch.  “Red!” she said and went inside.

She also jumped off my dad’s boat more than once.  She walked out into water until she had to tip her head back to be able to breathe and keep going (one of us was always thisclose to her – and she always had a life jacket one!)  She grabbed at knives and jumped off the top of their swing set.  She was crazy on the trampoline.  She ran when she had the chance in stores or at school.

Rob was even more of a dare-devil than she was.  He jumped off the roof into a pile of shingles, did a somersault and took off running.  He jumped into pools with no thought of whether he could touch or not.  He climbed scaffolding (yep – I lost him on it once – thank God I heard him giggle as he watched us run around the house looking for him!)  He tried walking down our basement steps with a blanket on his head and fell – earned him a helicopter ride to the nearest children’s hospital when he wouldn’t wake up the next morning.

He jumped down the other steps and broke his collarbone.  He fell and cut his head open – stitches.  We no sooner had a hospital bill paid off than he did something else.

Neither of them understand the danger of strangers.  They have been told more times than I can count to never leave with someone they don’t know, but I worry that if the stranger offered them the right things, they might go.  They know to find a policeman or fireman if they need help and they both know their names and addresses, but would they really look for help?  I doubt it.  Having them disappear terrifies me.

Even though they have both learned to fear some things, I still worry when we go somewhere different.  I’m more relaxed, but still know that any second, one could dart away.  Rob has a healthy fear of deep water now (he jumped into a pool with a friend who is much taller than him and couldn’t touch – scared him beyond words)  Casey is afraid of heights (she insists on riding the Ferris wheel every year at the fair, but it scares her to death when she is at the top!)

I am so thankful they are both learning to be more careful.  I know that they will probably always be somewhat fearless compared to others, but at least they aren’t jumping off the roof anymore!  And I know how lucky I am that neither of them ever tried to get out of the house.  I know several families with more locks on their doors and windows than a vault and still need alarms.

What I really want is to watch them every second of the day, but I know that’s impossible and not healthy for any of us.  They are adults and need some space from me – and I need a break from them.  But still, I think about it – the world is such a scary place – especially when you don’t understand those dangers.

My plan for the future is simple – lots of hair coloring to hide the gray hairs that pop out every time they run across the street without looking or when Rob swings so high or when Casey wants to look at coloring books in a store by herself.  And lots of deep breaths to keep from panicking at their little “thrills.”

Be safe, everyone!