Life With Autism
By Karyn | September 5, 2008
Ah, my boy. My sweet boy who asks for big, giant tickles, laughs uproarously, then asks for little, tiny tickles. He wants you to pretend you’re Cookie Monster and eat his tummy, and he’s so worried that mommy’s earrings hurt her. He knocks on his door in the morning to announce that he’s awake, and says “hallooo? Is anybody out there?” He may be 7, but autism skews all skill levels. While his social skills are equivalent to a 14 month old, his reading is at an age 13 level, and he self-taught cursive handwriting at age 5. He is a movie production company fan, and can write hundreds of company’s names, complete with each movie ever produced and the copyright year. He knows who the art director is, who did the sound, and who did the voiceovers. He can mimic most logos on the computer and on paper. He has tried to ride his dog like a pony, and enjoys watching the toilet flush: that swirling tunnel of water goes somewhere, he knows, and so he quickly throws a marble in so that it can discover where it leads to. Hands on hips, stomping his foot for more oomph, he quotes Beauty & the Beast with all the gusto of Gaston, “I WILL have Belle for my wife!” Ah, I think he could do better!
This week, as my special little Muffin makes his grand entrance into grade 2, I find myself enjoying his boyishness more, and treasuring the little things. If they came out with a cure for autism, would we take it? I honestly don’t know. To be “cured”, would be to lose the only little boy I’ve ever known. His endearing ways and innocence have made a mark on his whole family.
I ran across this on another site, and wanted to share it.
I am.
I am the little engine that did. When on my journey in life, my tracks led me to a mountain - a diagnosis of Autism - I looked at it with defeat -thinking there was no way I could climb over it. I then pondered the obstacle before me, and I then said to myself over and over, “I think I can,I think I can…,” then I slowly started climbing the mountain saying tomyself over and over, “I know I can, I know I can,….” and then I made it over that ominous diagnosis and continued my journey. I am the little engine that did.
I am more devoted than Noah’s wife. I sometimes feel overwhelmed in my”houseboat” — 365 days and 365 nights a year, constantly working with and teaching my child. But when the storms of isolation and monotony become most unbearable, I do not jump ship. Instead I wait for the rainbow that is promised to come.
I am Xena. Real life warrior goddess of Autism. With my steel plated armor I can battle anyone who gets in the way of progress for my child. I can overcome the stares and ignorance of those without a disability in theirlives - and educate them as to why my child is the way he is, and why hedoes the things he does. With my sword of persistence, I can battle the schools to have them properly educate my child. Yes, I am Xena - and I am prepared for any battle that might come my way……
I am beautiful. I have hairy legs because I get no time alone in the bathroom, and bags under my eyes from staying up all night with my child.The only exercise I get is the sprint from my house to my car - to take my child to therapy. Dressed up to me is, well - just that I had a moment to get dressed! They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder - and so even on the days when I don’t feel very beautiful - I will know that I am…….. because God is my beholder.
I am the Bionic Woman. With my bionic vision - I can see through the disability my child has, and see the beauty in his soul, the intelligence inhis eyes — when others can’t. I have bionic hearing - I can look at my child when he smiles at me, and hear his voice say, “I Love You Mommy,” —even though he can’t talk. Yes, I am thankful to be Bionic.
I am Mary. A not so well known mother of a Special Needs child who was brought here to touch the souls of those around him, in a way that will forever change them. And it started with me. By teaching me things I wouldnever have known, by bringing me friendships I never would have had, and by opening my eyes as to what really matters in life. Things like the Joy of just living in the moment, the Peace of knowing that God is in control, never losing Hope, and knowing an unconditional Love that words cannot express. Yes, I too am blessed by a special child, just like Mary.
I am Superwoman. I am able to leap over tall loads of laundry in a singlebound, and run faster than a speeding bullet, to rescue my child from danger. Oh yes, without a doubt, I am Superwoman.
I am Moses. I was chosen to be the mother of a Special Needs Child. I may attimes question whether I am the right “man” for the job —but God will give me the Faith I need to lead my child to be the best he can be. And like Moses, God will give me the small Miracles here and there, needed to accomplish my mission.
I am Stretch Armstrong - a mom that can be stretched beyond belief - and still somehow return to normal. I can stretch limited funds to cover every treatment and therapy that insurance won’t. I can stretch my patience as I bounce from doctor to doctor in a quest to treat my child. I can stretch what time I have, and share it with my husband, my children, my church, and still have some leftover to help my friends. Yes, my name is Stretch. And Ihave the stretch-marks to prove it!
I am Rosa Parks. I refuse to move or waiver in what I believe is right for my child –simply because my view is the minority, not the majority. I refuse to believe “What can one mother do?” But instead, I will write, call,and rally to the government if I have to, and do whatever it takes to prevent discrimination against my child and ensure that he gets the services he needs.
I am Hercules. The Greek god known for strength and courage. The heavy loads I must carry would make others crumble to the ground. The weight of Sorrow, Fear at uncertainty of the future, Injustice at having no answers, and the Tears of despair, would alone possibly be too much, — even for Hercules. But then the Joy, Laughter, Smiles, and Pride, - at my child’s accomplishments, - balance the load to make it easy to bear.
I am touched by an Angel. An Angel who lives in a world of his own. And it’s true. He lives in a world of innocence and purity. A world without hatred or deceit. A world where everyone is beautiful and where no-one is ugly. A world where there is always enough time. A world where he goes to bed with no worries of tomorrow and wakes up with no regrets of the past. Yes, I most certainly am touched by an Angel, and in some ways, his world is better….
I am a true “Survivor” - the mom of a child, who has faced, is facing, and will face, –some of the most difficult challenges life has to offer. I am ready for the challenge and have God given endurance to last until the end,– along with a sense of humor to cope with all the twists, turns, and surprises along the way. Oh yes, I am a TRUE “Survivor” - and I don’t need to win a million dollars to prove it!!! I am a mom of a special needs child, all the above, and so much more. Somedays I will want to be none of the above - and just be a typical mom with a typical child, doing typical things. On those days I will know it’s okay tobe angry, and to cry, and to lean on my family, friends, and church, for support. Because after all, —the most important thing I am….. is human.
- author unknown.
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A Giraffe Hunt
By Karyn | July 29, 2008
Muffin is SICK of his usual PB&J sandwich for lunch. But it’s all he eats. Autism has captured his sense of taste adventure and so his palate seeks only PB&J sandwiches for lunch. Today, he is not happy about that sandwich. So amid his tears of frustration, and little fists pounding the PB out of the bread, the following little exchange occurs.
Me: what do you want to eat?
Muffin: *sigh* Mommy, I want a giraffe.
Me: Oh. You want a giraffe. To eat?
Muffin, nodding emphatically and sniffing back tears: Yes.
Me, opening the cupboard and looking around: ummm… where do I get a giraffe?
Muffin: I…. don’t…. know.
Me: Oh. Well then, do you want a sandwich?
Muffin, resigned: okay.
Hee hee, we have such cute moments as mommies, don’t we?
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The Autism Trap
By Karyn | July 14, 2008
I know a mom who is being blindsided. Clotheslined. I’m talking bricks in the pocket and going overboard. Does she see it? Not at all. In fact, she gets quite slap-happy if someone says something to her, warning her of the risks. She doesn’t want to hear it. She wants so desperately to believe in this fairytale.
I’ve seen this before… several times actually. Anyone who knows desperation will tend to grasp at straws if the drink of salvation is an arm’s length away. And why not? We love our kids, parents, siblings… why wouldn’t we try just about anything we could to help them if they’re in need. I get that.
What I don’t get is throwing your common sense out the door like last Christmas’ fruitcake Aunt Hilda made, and ignoring dozens of red flags. Suppose for a sec here, that there is PROOF this thing is a scam. Suppose the courts have stepped in and said, hey, you’re a bad boy… don’t do that anymore… suppose that there is not one single iota of evidence for it actually working… well, except for whatever the con artist tells you. Sure, they’ll tell you it works, and they’ll say it with passion, they’ll say it like it’s true… what else are they supposed to say? ”Oh hi, I’m a lying thief who will take advantage of your desperation and empty your pocketbook once your trust level is up and you’re hooked. Care to chat?”
So I sit and watch yet another family get suckered. Controlling the urge to shake her till her marbles land back in place. She’s gotta do that herself.
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Wendy-Proof…. and…. Bootcamp!
By Karyn | July 10, 2008
OOOOO the fun of it all! I love sneaking! I should have been a spy… or a lawyer or something! My sister’s wedding is coming up next month and I have to say I think I really have her fooled! Mwahaha! Oh I SO want to go into details, but if she by chance finds this blog… no, I can’t risk her finding out! I’ve gone to SUCH INSANE LENGTHS to be sure she is surprised! I keep threatening people and saying nasty things about what would happen if they leaked so much as a HINT!
Hmph. No fun. Can’t tell.
Pout. Pout. Pout.
*******************************
Okay so on a different note: Survivor Bootcamp is… well… kicking butt! I love it! I’m now finishing off my 8th week. This is my 2nd week of going Mon-Fri. I’m not insanely sore like I was the first session. I still feel it, oh I TOTALLY feel it… but at least I can walk without feeling like my legs are cement pillars, or walk up the stairs without crying in agony.
My favourite things to do at Bootcamp: stairs (who the heck just said that?!), squats (where you look like you’re a chicken laying an egg… oh I play the part well too!) and weights. I can’t believe I like weights! I have to be careful not to become too buff. Well, you know what I mean… chicks with rippling muscle…. eeeek! No thanks!
My least favourite things to do at Bootcamp: running, jogging, walking fast. Bad on the joints and I just don’t like it. Not a runner. Makes me want to purchase a $75 sports bra, and that just sounds so… so… evil! How on earth could I ever spend more than $15 on an ugly thing that just acts like saranwrap? Oh, and ladies who have biological children: jumping jacks, skipping, ya… those things are a test of your… umm… control. You know what I’m talking about! They mimic the effect of sneezing… and let’s just say that some tissue would really come in handy! Our instructor’s advice: come prepared. Oh. I see. Prepared. Did she say come prepared? Hmmm…. depends….
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Canadiana: Ontario vs. Alberta, eh!
By Karyn | June 18, 2008
I was recently asked what the differences between Ontario and Alberta are, seeing as how they’re on nearly opposite ends of Canada. I lived in Ontario all my life, but moved to Alberta a year and a half ago. So… here’s my list:
1. My first month here, I asked someone what that beautiful exotic bird is, the one with black feathers, a stark white chest, and irredescent blue wings. The person’s smile dropped and said “you’re not from around here are you?” LOL! Apparantly, people here detest the magpie. I think it’s beautiful. But I’ve been told to keep those comments to myself if I know what is good for me! ROFL!!!
2. The transit system (subways) work on the… get this… the honour system! Yesiree… the good ol’ honour system. Now, all my friends from Toronto are just dying laughing! There is no way that system would ever work in Toronto! Ever!
3. The weather: changes every 5 minutes. In fact, there is a saying that goes something like “don’t like Alberta’s weather? Wait 5 minutes.” True. This spring we saw -16 to +20 all within a 3 or 4 hour span. It can snow any month of the year. Although it is frequently -45 degrees celsius in the winter (how on earth do you spell celsius???) it never feels that cold. The air is dry here, so -30 only feels like Ontario’s - 5. Same for the summer. Nobody has air conditioners here. It could be 30 degrees, but again, it’s dry so it is quite comfortable to wear long pants and a tee. Not like Toronto’s smog days, and sauna-like humidity where you can’t breathe. Big difference in air quality. In Toronto, you can DIE on a hot day without an air conditioner. Here, people look at you funny when you house shop and ask if it has central air! LOL!
4. Altitude. We’re higher here. High efficiency furnaces will only work at 70-80% max. efficiency. Water boils at a cooler temperature. And get this: children’s sippy cups leak like crazy here! It took me a while to figure out, but it’s kinda like having a juice box on a plane: the altitude just sucks the air out of the container, making the juice crawl up the straw at alarming rates. Ya. Ditto for here. You should see the stains on my carpet and sofa! Thank God for steam cleaners!
5. Hair: Awesome hair here! Not in Ontario. Again, due to humidity. Skin: ohmygoodness you need a LOT of moisturizer here! It took me almost a year for my skin to get used to this dryness. Not good for psoriasis!
6. People: Picture how Toronto was in the 50’s. That’s generally what it’s like here. Generally, people still respect people. People will help you and call 911 to do so. Toronto: for-get-it! Even teenage punks are still polite and hold doors open and say thank-you and generally show respect for people and things. I am not at all afraid that someone will pull a knife or gun on me just for the sake of doing it. Of course, the people factor also flip-flops because all my wonderful family and friends are in Ontario… and I do miss them all. I miss the option of just driving to their house. I miss the security in knowing that if an emergency happened, there were people I knew well that I could count on. I miss getting together with people, and it just tears me up that I can’t find the time to see everyone when we’re there.
7. Playgrounds: They ROCK here! Totally better than any plaground Ontario has!
8. Streets: whoever created Edmonton & Calgary’s street names is either a genius or a psychopath. Probably the former. Streets run North and South, while Avenues run East and West. They are both arranged in numerical order. In addition, the “house number” consists of the closest interstectig street or avenue. Try to follow this, it is cool: a sample address is 10413 62nd Avenue. So let’s see… it’s an Avenue, so it runs East/West, and because it’s 62nd then I generally know where it is. BUT… 62nd ave runs ALL the way from the outermost East of the city, to the outermost West of the City. Also, it is NOT a contiuous grid: you cannot drive on any street or ave from one side to the other, there are dead ends, rivers, etc. SO…. you look at the house number: 10413: here you have the closest intersection: 104th street, and 10413 is the 13th house on 62nd Avenue, nearest to 104 street. Sounds brilliant, doesn’t it? Well it is! Unless you’re a Karyn and are allergic to numbers and directionally challenged to boot…
9. Chocolate & Fancy Coffee: OK, so there’s 2 fancy chocolate shops and they’re both not that great. Not for what they charge anyhow. I miss Ontario’s Laura Secord. And coffee! BOY do people like their coffee here! Nobody bats an eye at a $6 grande mocha every single day! There are so many specialty coffee shops here it isn’t funny. For every Tim Horton’s, there’s a handful of competition within walking distance: Starbucks, Second Cup, Timothy’s, et al. It’s completely insane! But boy, those Vanilla Bean Latte’s sure are divine….
10. And lastly, the biggest difference between here and there, are the schools. The way they run, the programs they offer, the support for special needs children… the schools alone were worth the move. My son now has the individual attention he deserves at school, and I don’t have to fight for it every year like I did in Ontario. The fact that they pay you to homeschool is a nice bonus too. My daughter is so happy to be homeschooled now, and the support available to us via homeschool groups is bar none. Anyone worried about a homeschooler’s social skills ought to see these groups in action! We’re so busy it’s hard to stay home and get school work done! And that is a good thing! Living learning!
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Survivor Bootcamp Day #8 (and no more fluff! I’m SHAKIN’!)
By Karyn | June 4, 2008
2.5 weeks into it. Wow. I may just survive. Day #7 was this past Monday, and towards the last minutes of the drills and cool-down stretches, the whole group was commenting how energized they felt. It was the strangest thing, this stuff actually felt good, and it didn’t hurt so bad. I could breathe better and was generally feeling better.
Today I did not do the run. My hip hurts and it’s too much impact for an overweight person’s joints. Soon though, soon I will be able to do the run. If I gave it my all, I could do about 1/3 of the run, then I’m huffing and puffing and my legs for some reason begin to feel like thick, cement pillars that don’t bend. Onward and upward, I say!
One neato thing I’ve discovered is Protein shakes. The general population thinks all those supplements are garbage and just don’t want to hear about it. For the most part, they’re right LOL… but my bootcamp instructor challenged me to research protein shakes. I did, and what I realized is that protein shakes were my “missing link” to losing weight.
Years ago I read WHY drinking water causes you to lose weight, and it really made sense to me for the first time. Of course it gets rid of toxins, is great for skin, gives you a full feeling, yadda yadda… but I didn’t realize that drinking water enabled your liver to burn more fat. See, if our kidneys don’t have enough water, then our kidneys don’t function properly. When our kidneys don’t function properly, they send a message to the liver. They text the liver and say “hey, I need help here” and so the liver drops the fat burning and starts doing the macarana with the kidneys and instead of burning fat. The fat then, gets stored on our butt, our tummy, anywhere it wants to really. But if you drink plenty of water, your kidneys do their own job alone, freeing the liver to metabolize fat! Whoohoo! Anyhow, protein shakes are kinda like that, same kind of logic. When you use muscles in a work out, they have a recovery time. Protein speeds the muscle recovery, and we all know that muscle burns fat! So if your muscles are busy healing themselves, they aren’t working very efficiently at burning fat. Help out the healing process and you get maximum fat burning potential. Again, whoohoo!
For once, this totally makes sense to me. This is stuff that athletes know. This is stuff that I use to call fluff. But I’m starting to realize that our bodies are indeed amazing machines, and there are ways to help care for them if only we take the time to get to understand them. All this, from a self-professed fluff-caller-turned-protein-shaker-upper. And my oh my, those chocolate protein powders are DIVINE blended with peanut butter, skim milk and ice. Oooo la la! Shake it up baby!
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Whooo Hooo!
By Karyn | May 27, 2008
I got it! Happy late Mother’s Day to me! One of the neatest GPS gadgets, Garmin, made a few special ones just for Mom’s Day, and then they went on SALE!!! Whoo hooo $50-$100 off (depending where ya look!)
and get this… it’s pink! I love it and I’m never gonna get lost again!
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Survivor Bootcamp
By Karyn | May 21, 2008
Day #2. Wow. I want to die.
Every muscle I have (and then some additional new ones that I didn’t have before) is feeling it. I signed up for 6 weeks of this torture, on a part time basis. You’d think part-time would be easy. HA! Part time is Mon, Wed, Fri mornings at 5:45am for one hour of kick-butt, sweaty-brow, heart-pounding, butt-throbbing torture. My 1km run time? 12 minutes twenty seconds. The slowest in the class of 40… well okay, I couldn’t run it, I walked fast. I was huffing and puffing and contemplated jumping over a bridge just to taste the cold water. Alas, at the end of the 6 weeks I will be the one who improves the most. I’ve got the biggest butt potential for improvement. IF I survive that is.
What will I do at the end of the 6 weeks? Well, that’s easy. I’m eating ice-cream and cake! LOL! Just kidding. I actually signed up for a 4 week Survivor Bootcamp FULL TIME! That’s every morning, MON-FRI.
I figure by the time I go to Greece I could wear a bathingsuit.
Maybe.
We’ll see.
Perhaps.
If I survive.
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A New Birth… well, 3 to be exact!
By Karyn | May 18, 2008
Hours after I entered the prior post, I heard Sweetpea’s shrieks as she discovered one beautiful Painted Lady in her butterfly flight house (aka: inverted mesh laundry hamper) and 2 more have emerged since. This leaves 2 yet to come out, one that looks sooo ready, you can see the amazing wing pattern through the chrysalis, and the other who is.. um… gee, he does not look too good. In his “former life” Sweetpea named him “Climby”… well, wonder of wonders, he remained the only one who didn’t climb-y up to pupate in traditional hanging stance. Instead, being the rebel he is, Climby sort of half burrowed into his food mush and squished his butt against the side of the container as if to say “yooo hoo, see this here? mwaaah” He formed a boomerang shape, half submerged in his mush, and I couldn’t help think that we’d all had days like that. Days where we just wanna dig down and hide. We hope and pray we can skip through a metamorphosis. I also giggled at the poor little thing, and then I pitied him… then, of course, I giggled again. I wonder what he was thinking… I wonder what he felt. I know that caterpillars have this God-given instinct to climb up and hang (or create their cocoon) but what is the little thing thinking? Ugh, I feel too solid, think I’ll turn into liquid for a week… or gee, I’m getting sleepy, let’s just play possum and see what happens. If that’s what a normal caterpillar might think, then Climby must’ve thought something like oh crap this sucks… can’t feel my 6th leg… *kick stretch shudder* what the heck is happening to me? *twitch twitch* ughhh crazy lady will you just GO AWAY! Stop watching me! That’s it, I’m leaving, I’m…. *digging down* outta…. here…. *yawn*…
Come on Climby, it’s time to climb outta your weird chrysalis! Wonder if we should call this butterfly “Boomerang”…
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Waiting for the Painted Lady
By Karyn | May 16, 2008
It seems like it’s been forever… but it’s only been 2 weeks… our caterpillars are all snug in their chrysalliseses cocoony-tombs. We gave 10 to 5 of Sweetpea’s homeschool friends and we kept 6. One unlucky creepy crawly never made it, so now we have 5. We just heard from one family that this morning one of their Painted Lady’s emerged! She’s still standing on the floor letting her wings unfurl, but they sound so excited… it makes us more anxious to see ours emerge! This mom said it best… “The patterns on its wings are so intricate. We are both in awe. We knew it was going to turn into a butterfly, but to actually see the transformation is sooo awesome.” WHOO HOOO! Kinda like any daddy knowing his wife will deliver a baby, but actually experiencing it is sooo awesome! *sigh* And from a mama like me who loved being pregnant and loved the whole labour and birth thang, well, okay I can’t do that again lol, but this is just very cool!
Waiting, waiting, waiting….
P.S.: CP, I have not forgotten… I can’t believe you don’t have voice mail! Chat soon! ;o)
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