Slurping Life

Afraid To Write The Words

Afraid to write the words.  Once you write the words they are real.  Other people may read them.  Then you have to own them.  Then you are known by the words.

The sobs come and leave slowly and come again until I fall asleep.  I miss the comfort of my bed, but it seems wrong to take this noisy sorrow there.  So sleep comes on the sofa...alone, where no one will be disturbed.  Wake, muddle through the day, repeat.

It has been years in the making.  The realization that my words have not agreed with my heart.  In reality my heart has been in mourning for years.  It was only a few days ago that my mind, my body and my heart - together - awakened to the truth.  Mourn...

...then move forward.

I love my children.  I pray for them...for me...for us...that their limitations strengthen them...that they not be limited by my limitations.

We move forward...just like always...

...with hope

...with love...

...with tears...

...with laughter...

...and did I mention...

...love?

We're good...thanks for asking.

When Harry Met Sally At Our House

It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship. 

After the mating ritual on this very spot Sally single-handedly single-beakedly built their home.

She gave birth to their children and awaits their emergence into the world.

While Harry watches, pacing fluttering to and fro, ever the protector.

And each morning they greet our family with cheerful songs.

Thank you, Harry and Sally, for choosing to make your home with us.  For bringing chirping, a reminder of instinctive love and renewal to our hearts.  We needed that here...in our home...where the days have been a bit trying for weeks.

We can hardly wait to see the babies.

Eight Hours On A Golf Course With Boys Bearing Weapons

"Hi.  My name is Wil.  I'm our team's adaptive golfer." 

 

That is how Wil greeted each and every person he came face to face with at Monday's golf tournament.  An adaptive golf tournament is held annually in our city with teams comprising a mix of physically challenged and non-challenged golfers.  The boys and their dad were a team. I was the photographer, driver of the second golf cart and official ball locater.

A woman has not lived until she has spent EIGHT HOURS on a golf course with her husband and three of her four sons. (Our oldest was at Disney World proposing to his girlfriend.)  Please remember that the three sons on the course live with a mix of ADHD, Bipolar Disorder, Asperger's Syndrome, Cerebral Palsy and PDD NOS.  You had to be there.  I'll share just a few photos from the day...but seriously...you had to be there.

"Mac.I.Said.Keep.Your.Foot.Off.The.Accelerator."  Yes, that is dad in the photo admonishing Mac before the tournament even began and not for the first time, but I bet you guessed that.

Check out the straight legs and flat feet below.  Many surgeries resulting in months of wearing casts from the groin down..another surgery expected at next growth spurt, maybe more...intense rehabilitation following each surgery...physical therapy since infancy and ongoing...occupational therapy for upper body, sensory integration and functional skills since infancy and ongoing...speech therapy since age 18 months.  Those surgeries and aftermath were worth every tortuous moment of pain.  And Wil smiled through almost all of it.  Wil is SO (one of) my heroes!

One of the most heard phrases of the day, "I'm hungry."  How could that be?  They were given snacks and drinks constantly.  The boys literally ate their way through 18 holes of golf.  They were also fed lunch and dinner.  Still we had to take them out to eat after the tournament.

I was out of the cart, back turned for a few seconds when I heard Mac whisper, "Psst.  Lee.  Do you think mom will notice if I press the accelerator?"

Club selection is serious business for Lee requiring much concentration...

...not so much for Wil.  Grab a club and whack the ball...or a brother...no need to ponder. 

There are no photos of the sword fighting incidents because being an intelligent woman, I was running for cover at the time.

Second in frequency to "I'm hungry" was the phrase, "Does that count?  Can I have a do-over?"  Notice this shot of Mac's follow-through...the ball is still on the tee.  I think Tiger Woods is secure in his number one ranking for at least a few more years.

A chunk of time was spent searching for balls.  I was driving that cart all over the course...through the woods...by the bunkers...along the water hazards...while the boys walked and searched.

Watching Wil's putt.

   

Most of the day was absolutely freezing and windy, finally for the last three or four holes the sun shone and the guys did remove their jackets.  Trying to get a good shot of these goofs together on the golf course was futile.  But here you go...look at those sharp-dressed golfers.  I went shopping with all four of them...at the same time...[do I hear applause]...to buy those clothes for the tournament.  Didn't play so good, but they looked the part.

By the way, the third most often spoken phrase of the day was "Mac.Keep.Your.Foot.Off.The.Accelerator."

There you have a overview of our eight hours on a golf course.  I survived.  The guys let me sleep in Tuesday morning.

If you have never watched physically challenged athletes compete in any sport, do yourself a favor and attend an event.  It was amazing and inspiring to watch golfers in wheelchairs, with one arm, with one leg, with two artificial legs, with cerebral palsy and a blind golfer.  We played behind the blind golfer...phenomenal.

My guys finished last.  However, it must be noted they were the only kids in the tournament.  All other entrants were seasoned, adult golfers.  But no one beat my dudes when it came to fun...they took the fun trophy hands down.

Awareness ~ Autism and Child Abuse

April is Child Abuse Awareness and Autism Awareness Month.  Both issues have deeply affected our family.  My boys are beautiful children with loving spirits, and I cherish who they are...all things included.  While I do not often speak clinically regarding the special needs of my sons, I do want to spotlight autism and child abuse.  Be aware.  Be informed.  Be willing.

Child Abuse Awareness Month links:

Identifying Child Abuse and Neglect

Protect children

Child Welfare Information Gateway

Prevent Child Abuse America

Child Abuse Prevention Programs

Be Aware

Autism Awareness links:

Autism:  The Musical - an HBO film online.

The Miracle Project

NASCAR races for autism.

Drive a Chevy for autism.

Autism Society of America

Centers for Disease Control and Prevention

Autism Speaks

These links are by no means all inclusive of the information available online regarding child abuse and autism, but they are places to begin if you are seeking information and inspiration.  Additionally, by posting these links I am not in agreement with or in support of everything you may find at the sites.

The Great Novel

"Mom, are you ok?" asked Lee.

"Yes, sweetheart.  Why do you ask?"

"You just haven't seemed to have much fun lately."

"I know.  But I'm ok.  I promise."

"I was just checking because I love you."

An exchange of hugs and he walks away to continue the harassment of his younger brothers and the struggle of functioning as a teen living with Bipolar Disorder and ADHD.  Amidst his personal turmoil Lee was concerned about me...the mother.

I have been out of sorts for several months.  Obviously I was not hiding that fact as well as I thought.  Never wanting to be the cause of anxious moments for my sons, I have always tried to shield them from what I believe to be unnecessary concerns.   But then if children do not learn the realities of life from parents...what's the alternative?  Not knowing until a stranger slaps them in the face with reality?  I think a gentle poke from mom and dad is best.  Still I have to work on me and the flux I'm experiencing.

Mothering special purpose (needs) sons is a blessing, a gift, but it is also one difficult gig.  Many of you understand because you live the life.  Several posts have been rolling around in my brain for weeks discussing the current challenges with the boys.  The words just do not come.  I think maybe my brain is literally exhausted, stressed...it just wants to forget everything for a couple of hours each night.  Fine by me, really.

Perhaps I have been working too hard to bring the boys into the normal realm of life.  The truth is having them function in society is a huge hope that I have.  But is it really a goal for my personal satisfaction?  Am I trying to escape social scrutiny of myself or of the boys?  Honestly, behaviors of Bipolar, ADHD, Cerebral Palsy and Asperger's Syndrome children are weird to the unsuspecting eye.  Also, the boys are immature for their ages, especially Lee who recently turned thirteen.  He is not emotionally or socially a teen...far from behaving even as a young thirteen year old.  But is that a bad thing?  I have never wanted the boys to be secular children...to follow the popular crowd...that is one reason we homeschool.  But...

Am I trying to write a book of their lives rather than read the book that has been written?  I believe children come to us with a definite purpose for their lives, and we must love them, study them, and decode their strengths in order to help them fulfill their purpose.  I do not believe we are to mold them into clones of ourselves or others.  Children often spend their entire lives trying to overcome what we make of them.  I do not want that for my sons.

God doesn't give parents manuscripts to write, but codes to decode.  Study your kids while you can.  The greatest gift you can give your children is not your riches, but revealing to them their own.  ~~Max Lucado

Go.  Caress the cover...gently turn the pages...allow the plot to unfold... your child is the great novel.

Spontaneous Fasting

If you do not live with children on the autism spectrum (in Mac's case Asperger's Syndrome) perhaps reading Maddy's post about inferences will help you understand...

Mac:  Mom, when you get your face out of the toilet, would you get this knot out of my shoe lace?

Me:    Mac, would you please ask your dad to help you?

Mac:   No.  He has his face in another toilet.  He's sick.

Huh?  I'm just saying...

To Concentrate Attention Or Energy ~ Theme Thursday ~ Love Thursday

Focus...to concentrate attention or energy

 

Yesterday my baby, Wil, celebrated his tenth birthday.

He hasn't a conscious clue as to the boundless attention or energy which has for years been focused upon him.  And that's a good thing.  He simply knows that he is a boy...who is ten years old...who has brothers...and a father...and a mother...and extended family...and a God...who love him...and that he loves NASCAR.  He has no clue that he is a miracle and that God gave the gift of him...and gave him a gift.

But I know.  Someday he will know.  And he will do great things for others.

If the button link above does not take you to Theme Thursday...focus...use this link.  You will definitely want to take a few moments to visit.

This photo and post is also for Love Thursday...go on over...feel the love of sisters.

Pot-pourri

 

This Christmas season I have made it a point to be up early, light candles, turn on the trees, start my potpourri pots to simmering and sit in meditation before the boys arise.  It's such a connected way to begin each day of the advent season.  It is also just plain fun to watch and listen each morning as the boys awake and soak in the beauty awaiting them.

This morning while sitting by candlelight in peace with my thoughts, I hear approaching footsteps.   I know the sound of each boy's gait.  Mac is coming.

As he enters the room he inhales deeply, smiles brightly and proclaims, "Ahhhhh.  The pot smells so good."

Are you inhaling the joy, beauty and scents of the season?  Are you enjoying the gift of every moment?

Special Squishy Moment

"Mom, they left me."

"Mom, they said I can't play because I can't run fast enough."

"Mom, they laughed at me."

"Mom, they called me that boy who walks funny."

"Mom, they said my eyes were weird."

"Mom, they pointed at me and laughed."

"Mom, they were mean to me."

"Mom, I want someone to play with."

"Mom, I don't have many friends."

"Mom, they don't like me."

Often I hear these words from Wil.  Although his cerebral palsy is on the higher end of moderate and he walks, talks and is as sharp as a tack...that almost makes it more difficult.  At first glance he looks like any other all-American little boy who can talk, run and play.  But clearly he struggles.  His bike has special training wheels.  He legs have braces.  His eyes don't always align just right.  His mind gets stuck in a place.  He sees...and hears...and feels...the differences. 

This past week was full of family fun with Halloween activities such as cookie baking, carving pumpkins, reading stories, making and eating caramel apples, trick or treating and sorting candy.  We do much as a family on a daily basis and are rarely apart.  But my husband and I also strive to spend time with each child individually.  The boys have varied needs and interests.  As parents, we work hard to meet each. 

This week Wil was having a particularly difficult time, finding it almost impossible to connect with the neighborhood kids.  Often he is left out because he cannot keep up, falls just short of the criteria to enter a game or neighborhood activity, or is just viewed as different.  Wil plays best with children who are two or three years younger than himself and this week they were just not out and about.  He turned to me.  To me, his mom.

We bought a basketball goal this week and Wil was thrilled.  He is desperately searching for "what I am good at".  Right now he doesn't understand that the gifts he has are more than physical, so we work with and encourage whatever his current interest might be.  Right now it is basketball. 

I was in the throes of cleaning the refrigerator.  There was a rank smell in there which none of us could identify...we had each sniffed every item in the frig.  Nothing seemed to be the culprit.  So I diligently removed every item, dismantled the shelf components and washed it all like a mad woman clearly on a mission.  Then Wil walked in from outside and asked, "Mom, will you play basketball with me?".

Dropping everything...vegetables, fruits, meats, soy milk...everything left to spoil...it didn't matter, I took his hand and said, "Yes".  We went outside and shot hoops.  He attempted to dribble and I pretended to struggle to steal the ball from him.  I dribbled and he quite aptly slapped the ball away from me.  Then we sat and had a drink of water and talked.  I asked if he would like to practice his shooting while I took some pictures of him.  He said, "Yeah, I want to practice and get my first goal."

You have no idea how completely perfect the moment was...THAT moment...when my son... who struggles...got his first basketball goal...and I was there to capture it...after snapping shots of countless misses.  Just as the ball sat on the rim...just before it dropped...I snapped the photo.  The smile and triumph on Wil's face wasn't captured because I dropped the camera and embraced him as he screamed "Yes, yes! I did it!  I did it!"  And we high-fived and danced with relentless joy.

It was a precious, squishy moment.

Someplace Else

Right now...at this moment...I cannot possibly respond to each comment or email personally. (Wow, the emails.)  Please accept my sincere "thank you" for your words of support, prayer, understanding and "I'm there, too."  You are in my prayers, also.  So many of you deal with much more than I...you are amazing and inspirational.

My family is currently faced with issues and decisions that I never could have imagined.  We are dealing with those.  I'm someplace else.

Bottom line...thank you for caring.

comments are closed...go hug your family

At Which Point The Seams Unravel

In one moment
the togetherness
that was me
has come undone.
No longer loosening
one stitch at a time.
Rather,
every seam
has unraveled.
The garment that once
clothed my composure
has come undone.
My soul lies naked.
There is no cover
to
warm
me.

The phone call came Thursday afternoon.  We now have a new doctor on our roster...a Pediatric Cardiologist.  I literally came unraveled.  It was as though someone pulled loose that last dangling thread that was holding me together.

I had not planned on a phone call revealing my Wrapped Emotions project this week.  When Phyllis, our guest blogger, posted her intriguing project, I knew what I would do. 

But I don't care what you use (the ideas above, or paper or fabric is fine or even cookies if you'd like - the sky's the limit)...break something or cut something or separate something and then put it all back together into a new and beautiful whole. Breaking something changes it, perhaps irreparably, but it gives us a new opportunity, a new chance, a new beginning, to create something different and something whole.

(You should read the entire post.)

But then literally, I became unraveled by the one more thing, the one more diagnosis, the one more problem placed in our family's life.  One more issue with which my child must deal. One more issue with which our family must deal.  I never try to explain here how truly difficult it is navigating and nurturing the needs of my sons.  It is so tiring to live it, emotionally and physically, that I can't even think about delving deeply into words of explanation.  Plus I do not like to whine...yet, here I am, whining.

I took my favorite t-shirt and cut it up.  I sloppily brushed gesso across a page of my art journal.  I pressed the irregular squares of pink fabric into the gesso, leaving my fingerprints on each one.  When I finished I noticed that down the center was the seam of the T-shirt...cut, broken, but almost together...almost together.  This was unintentional, done without thought.  Seeing it made we wonder.  Will our life always be "almost together"?

I honestly don't know how to feel right now.  I can't even cry.  I want to disappear.  Is this how it feels to lose one's mind?

How To Cuss Like An Aspie

Warning:  Almost profanity used in post.

Before the story begins, some background.  There are a few younger teens in our neighborhood that sometimes wander down our circle, and I've heard a bit of unsavory language as they meander.  Of course, if kids are playing in the front yard or riding bikes, they hear what is said.  Mac, having Asperger Syndrome, is a parrot.  A parrot with excellent hearing.

The Opie Taylor, angelic face boy.

Additionally, explaining things to Mac can keep you talking in circles forever.  Implied meanings are no good when dealing with him.  Sometimes I fail to be very specific...fail to  explain things in detail.  For example, I am in the kitchen and from upstairs I hear...

"Bad 'S' word!  Bad 'S' word!  Bad 'S' word!"

So I march up the stairs to speak with the potty mouth boy.  "Mac, that is not acceptable language.  Talking that way is the same as actually saying the ugly word."

"Lee kicked me in the b*lls, and it hurts like bad 'H' word" he says while rolling on the floor.

"Mac! Stop saying THOSE words."

"Which words?  My b*lls hurt like bad 'H' word."

(A bit of sympathy for the pain is given.)

So I have to resort to using the actual words, sh*t and h*ll, in context in order for Mac to understand what he is saying that is not acceptable language.  (I don't broach the use of b*alls.  I'm leaving that for Dad.)  We discuss that clearly he knows those words are inappropriate.  Then I explain to him that saying 'bad S word' is the same as saying sh*t and saying 'bad H word' is the same as saying h*ll.   I end our talk.  "Mac, do you understand which words you may not use?"

His reply, "Yes."

Then I ask, "Mac do you understand that saying 'bad S word' is the same as saying sh*t and that saying 'bad H word' is he same as saying h*ll?"

Again he replies, "Yes."

"Mac, you know not to use any of those words, right?"

"Right."

As I sigh "OK" and turn to walk out of his room, I hear...

"Bad 'D' word, it still hurts."

Sometimes I forget that as an Aspie, Mac doesn't apply a lesson learned in one context (in this case, with regard to specific words) to similar scenarios. 

I smiled and kept walking.  We'll save the bad 'D' word lesson for another day.

The Poster Child ~ Wordless Wednesday

...for sensory integration dysfunction.  It's fine to laugh.  Even Mac says this looks funny, but it is how he deals with the times Lee is too hyper and annoying.  Really, you should be a fly on the wall at our house.  Laugh people...we do...it's how we make it through the day.

Get your head out of the sofa cushions and pop over to 5 Minutes for Mom for Wordless Wednesday.

Remember that I'm over here, too.

Brotherly Love, Huh?

Conversation overheard...

Wil (to his older brothers Lee and Mac): Y'all don't like me.

Mac:    You only feel that way because we won't let you touch our stuff or play with our stuff, and we won't play with you.

Wil:     Huh?

~~~

Don't forget that the new prompt is up at Wrapped Emotions.  Hope you'll stop by.

The Glow Of Ten ~ BSM

~The creative prompt for this week is up at Wrapped Emotions. Hope you'll come play.~

Our son, Mac, celebrated his tenth birthday this weekend.  The afternoon began like any other birthday party, food followed by the lighting of candles...

Then following our plan, we load up our boys and the guests, more boys ages 9 to 12, to continue the party at the bowling alley...where two reserved lanes awaited us.  So we thought.  Seems we were preempted without notice by a bowling tournament which would not end for five hours.  After dealing with the blown expectations of a birthday boy with Asperger's Syndrome...think no tolerance for quick change of plans...we decided to haul the two vehicles of boys to the skating rink.

As we prepared to rent skates..no one brought their own, we were suppose to be bowling...a police raid ensued.  I.Kid.You.Not.  Seems they were looking for the vandals who broke into several cars in the parking lot.  So now my husband is freaking for fear our vehicles are among the damaged ones, and the children have been exposed to a full police raid.  Exciting.  But there was good luck, our vehicles were spared. However, again I face the child who does not tolerate change of plans.  We move on to plan number three...asking the boys "a movie or go to Putt-Putt?"

We cart the crew to Putt-Putt and find that the old geezers association is having a Putt-Putt tournament.  We are informed of this fact after we pay for an afternoon of fun...for a million boys (ok, after carting them around it seemed like a million).  Not small chump change.  All right, no problem there are other things to do here.  The boys head for the bumper boats...everyone loads in, engines revved and ready...except for Mac.  His boat won't go and there are no others.  So birthday boy shares a boat with his older brother...who is severe ADHD and not always the best of companions in close quarters. The fun began with a few words and punches between brothers and an admonishment from the teenage girl running the attraction.  I just laughed and took pictures...it was her problem. 

Next I had to call a million parents and tell them to pick up their kids at Putt-Putt rather than the bowling alley.  After completing the calls the horror struck me of how this would all sound when boys, ages 9 to 12, relayed the party events to their parents.  Clearly, I would have to tell the story to a million parents.  I cleverly waited and gathered them into groups of no less than three as they arrived to pick up their sons.  So I only had to tell the events  about 250,000 times rather than a million.

Finally, after riding bumper boats, playing video games, having an intense game of laser tag and stuffing his face with candy...along side his new friends...Mac smiled and said, "This was the best birthday ever."

Whew!

I'm moving the party over to Picture This to check out more Best Shot Monday photo fun. You're invited, too.

This post is also a part of this week's theme at TopBlogMag...change.  Visit TopBlogMag for a variety of articles, blog reviews and more.

The State Of Being Vulnerable...

...exposure.

As I stood peering through the sidelights of our front door, this was the scene. 

I watched for quite sometime, and Mac never moved.  I longed to be in his mind, share his thoughts, but dared not interrupt the private world of an Aspie.  He looked so vulnerable sitting there, exposed to the sun, the breeze, the people who happened along the street.  He looked so alone. My mind began to race forward with so many worries, what-ifs.  Will my son be a survivor, a success?  Will he overcome the stigma...the people who doubt his capabilities simply because of a diagnosis?   Will he be alright when his father and I are no longer here to watch over him?  Sometimes thinking is just too much.  So I picked up my camera, snapped a photo, and as I did Mac called, "Hey mom. Come here."

"Hi, sweetie.  What'cha doing?"

"Mom, have you ever watched the leaves on the trees in the wind?  It's really nice that God takes the time to send the wind to dance with the leaves."

I felt my heart flutter. The worries vanished...at least for this moment.  I felt relaxed with the thought of my son out there in the big world...without me...but with God...who takes the time to send the wind to dance with the leaves.

**********************

 

It's time for Thursday's Theme at Picture This.  Go over and enjoy.

Then check out Tracey's series of videos filmed for HP.  They're full of her tried and true tips for successful photography.  Thanks Tracey! 

Autism, ADHD, Cerebral Palsy ~ Share The Planet

Our first week's prompt for fun is up at Wrapped Emotions (The prompt was edited 12 noon).  After reading here, come over and express yourself.

~~~
Mac, my son with Asperger's Syndrome, is an avid reader.  At age ten he reads on a high school level and reads very fast.  Although he reads books considered much above his age capabilities, Mac still loves the easier-to-read children's picture books and devours multiple books in a brief sitting.  Mac is a methodical person, not uncommon for an Aspie, and carefully prepares for his reading time...

Lee, who at age twelve has been reading on high school level for several years, also loves reading, but not with the same obsession as Mac.  He also enjoys pulling out the easier children's books for a bit of fun reading.  Lee lives with severe ADHD and his method of reading time organization is a bit different than Mac's...

Wil is nine years old and not only lives on the Autistic Spectrum, but has struggles due to moderate cerebral palsy.  He has learned to read and reads on a first grade level, which means he is not as independent a reader as the other two, but still loves books.  When given a choice of reading material, Wil always chooses one of his many NASCAR books.  He sits and speedily flips the pages making race car sounds and speaking a NASCAR language I don't understand...and all I see is a blur of motion...

I smile and cherish the many ways my boys are completely different from one another...how they love and tolerate one another.  Wouldn't my house the world be stiff and boring if we all did things the same way?  Wouldn't it be a wonderful world if we each tried a little harder to understand those who share the planet, but live in a different world?

~~~

Who Needs Feather Pillows Anyway

Earlier this week our darling Ursula (who is now much larger than those photos) was spayed.  The boys have been lovingly concerned about her well-being.  They have made certain that she had a soft bed consisting of my best feather pillows, comfort food such as Goldfish crackers and raisins, a family heirloom blankie to chew on, more attention than a celebrity and have reminded me numerous times to check her "intestines"...also known as her incision.

But the cutest moment (of which I have no photos because I was caught up in the preciousness) came when they wrote get well cards for Ursula...got on the floor with her...held the cards to her face...and read them to her.  I have no doubt that she understood every word.

   

Yes, these are the same boys who wrestle one another to near death and make fake farts.

Autistic Fade Away

And sometimes, I don't know where to find him...

Thursday's Theme is up at Picture This.

Give Me That Attitude ~ Best Shot Monday

When you adopt a baby boy, age one year, who is developmentally a newborn and the size of a three month old due to abuse, neglect and health issues...and you are told he will probably never walk, talk or have measurable intelligence...and he proceeds to develop amazingly (although with great difficulty)...and then spends years copping a bold attitude and verbalizing his discontent...you cheer "give me that attitude"...but you cheer within...because outwardly you have to exude the parent persona. 

I had my camera in hand yesterday when Wil asked at a late hour may he ride his bike.  My answer was no.  His reaction was this look...

Notice the tight lips, because Wil's are almost always relaxed and smiling...here they are not.  His expression is saying "I'm not happy with that answer."

Visit the fun of Best Shot Monday for photos of fun and inspiration.

Note:  While editing this photo I noticed it was not crisp, clear and wondered "huh"?  I had last used my camera at the Fourth July fireworks and the ISO was set at 1600...duh, a real photographer checks her settings before shooting.  Anyway, I decided I liked the noise of this one.  It seemed a bit symbolic of the "noise" Wil gave me.

Do A Good Thing, Win A Good Prize

I have a HP digital camera-printer prize package valued at over $430 to give away.  It's all for a worthy cause, and your donation will earn you the chance to win this prize and more.  Stay tuned...

A Child's Book About Life On The Autism Spectrum

Books written about and for children with special needs always catch my eye.  Danny, Danny, Superstar came to may attention through reading the blog They're All Our Children.

Danny, Danny, Superstar by Nicki Mann is a book written from the point of view of an 8-year-old boy with autism.  The story provides a first person perspective for young children dealing with autism, as well as insight for their siblings and friends.  You can read the first ten pages here at LuLu.  I have not read the book, other than previewing the ten pages available online.  However, as a mother of four sons, two living on the autism spectrum, it appeals to me as an appropriately written book for young children whose lives are touched by autism.

Nicki also authors the blog They're All Our Children where she offers valuable information about child abuse and prevention, foster care, children with special needs, missing children and child safety along with other timely topics regarding our children.  Nicki makes no secret that she blogs for pay, and a portion of revenues is donated to organizations that serve children.  Her message is clear, from the heart and important...they are all our children.

A (ADHD, Autism) B (Bipolar Disorder) C's (Cerebral Palsy) Of Moving A Family

Our family is in the process of a move which is a difficult task for the typical family.  Our family falls within the atypical category by a landslide.  How many families do you know who live with autism (Asperger's Syndrome and PDD NOS), attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, bipolar disorder and cerebral palsy along with asthma, various allergies, vision difficulties and more all wrapped up into three darling boys.  (That list does not include the parental oddities.)  Thought so.  We are having a ball...not.

Up to this point the boys' reactions to the move have been varied and pronounced, and the mood changes from moment to moment.  I do not have a clue what mood the boys will exhibit when they awaken each morning.  I have switched back to real coffee...the stuff with caffeine...because I need it for the mornings.  Some of the negative verbal feedback from the boys regarding the move:

• I'm staying right here and living in the woods.  I don't need a house or a mom or a dad.
• I'm calling Grandmama.
• I'm calling Granddaddy Ed.
• I'm moving in with A. (Their 26 year old brother who, by the way, lives in the city to which we are moving.)
• You are just mean parents.
• Who