In One Respect, Still in Limbo

We went to the beach today, a family day.  A gorgeous, sunny, not-too-hot, wonderful day.  And I am so happy I do not have to return up North because school is starting back up again.  I even told The Man how extremely happy I am today… except for not having a job yet.

English: Limbo at Palisades Park

This limbo looks like a lot more fun…

No, I didn’t get the job that I was hoping for, and I took it a lot harder than I expected.  I do have a part-time job teaching scrapbooking at a local craft store.  I haven’t signed any paperwork, but it’s pretty much a done deal.  This kind of part-time, though, will be very few hours, at least at the beginning, and rather low pay.  So I am still looking, and follow up on my other leads.  But I’m not as discouraged as I was late last week.

Because I don’t have anything lined up, I now need to investigate insurance options for The Boy.  I have to determine this week if we qualify for any of the state programs.  If we don’t, I have to start shopping for health insurance, which is a pretty daunting task.

I guess the silver lining is that I have the time to do this, and the time to meet with The Boy’s teachers, and attend his orientation (at 9am in the morning?!), and do this research on health insurance.

Like The Man keeps telling me, I’ll take it day by day. 😉

Don’t Live in Fear of the Meltdown

I write this with the disclaimer that it is addressed to myself, as well as everyone else living with autism in their household.  I am painfully aware that this is an area of challenge for me, and I write this post with the hope that I will refer to it often to remind myself not to succumb…

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We bristle when people tell us that our children are “just spoiled,” and rightfully so.  The ex was convinced that my “coddling” of The Boy was his true diagnosis, not autism, and that if we just spanked disciplined him more, he would behave “better”.  This post is not to suggest that any of us are too lenient on our children.  No one knows our children better than we do, with the exception of the team of people that most of us have, the therapists, teachers and caregivers that help us raise our special, special children.

However…

We also pick our battles.  And you have to.  If he chooses a pink shirt and orange shorts that are way too small, we may just have to go with it because at least it’s not the pajamas he has worn for the past six days.  Refuses to eat vegetables?  That’s OK for now, because pizza is better than a diet of ice cubes…

But…

Especially as a single mom, I fell into a bit of complacency.  The anticipation of a meltdown would influence my decisions too much to the point that I was bending farther than I should.  And it wasn’t until I started dating The Man that this was pointed out to me.  At first I was furious, thinking he was telling me how to raise my son.  But he wasn’t.  He was just pointing out that The Boy really didn’t need to sneak that giant sucker into his room to eat right before dinner, and that it really was my job to call him on it.

Oh…  Yeah…  I’m the adult.  (Duh!)

And I have found that if I am consistent about calling him out on little stuff, he is less likely to get really agitated by it.  Last night, The Boy’s iPad time limit (instituted until he “pays back” his half of the repair bill) ran out, and he started to raise his voice when I insisted on taking it from the room.  It looked like he was going to blow it, but after some (albeit loud) whining, he accepted it without much further ado.

My suggestions are to avoid complacency and shoot for consistency.  All kids crave some structure.  The more consistently we provide it, I think the fewer big meltdowns occur from being called on what is actually poor behavior.  That’s my theory, anyway.

Now if I can just remember this 24-7…

Opportunity’s Knocking – Don’t Knock It

Sign reading "Please Knock" created ...I’m still unemployed.  I know, “Join the club!”, right?  But I did have a couple of great interviews, and although nothing came of the first, I’m very hopeful about the second one, the one I really want, the one that’s in a completely different field, but feels like it would be challenging enough to engage my brain, use the skills I already have, and could turn into a long term thing…  But I’m trying not to get my hopes up too high.  I know myself too well for that.  I should hear back on that one any day now.

In the meantime, I have some very promising part-time leads.  You may think (and even some days I think), “What in the world could you do with only part-time work?”  But I’m not knocking it yet.  Part-time, minimum-wage work may not be worth my time, but the opportunities I have seem to earn more than that, and even if they don’t, if I can cobble them together, I may just have something.

So I’m hopeful to get this full-time with bennies gig, but if for some reason I should not, it doesn’t mean I have to go back to the drawing board.  I feel like I’m in a pretty decent spot.  I’ll keep you posted 😉

P.S. Also wondering if I should go “pro” and see if this little blog can earn some money…  What do you think?

First Contact: Middle School

Today, we met with the principal at The Boy’s new school.

I went in knowing that they don’t have all of the programs and supports that his previous school had, but hoping to get a feel for the size of the classes and the flexibility they have to accommodate The Boy’s needs.  We were also hoping to get a peek at the school so The Boy could become a  little familiar – the more of those before school actually starts, the better!

Tomlinson Middle School New General Classroom

(not The Boy’s real classroom)

I was very pleasantly surprised.  Our new principal (besides being an old friend of The Man) was very personable, and very open about their programs.  He was very reassuring and informative about the various ways they can meet The Boy’s needs.  And as I very well know, the principal’s attitude sets the tone for the staff.  Having someone as caring and open as this man in our corner reassures me a great deal.

We spoke about placements, and what worked at The Boy’s previous school.  We talked about class size (Only 70 6th graders in the whole class!) and personnel.  We talked about The Boy’s interests and motivators, and what exploratory classes he might be interested in.  And The Boy seemed very happy to meet this nice principal.  This man doesn’t know it yet, but The Boy cares a great deal about the person in the principal position: what he thinks, and how he enforces the rules in his school.

All in all, I feel more hopeful than I did before.  Hopeful that this just might work, and The Boy may thrive in this environment, too, even though it is so different.

How the South is Different

I’m a born and bred Midwesterner, and have never lived farther than about an hour from a Great Lake (with the exception of my time in college, smack dab in the middle of Michigan).  Moving to the South has been a bit of an adjustment.  So far there are a few glaring differences:

Little buggers are hard to see but they are the invading horde on our poor mimosa tree

Little buggers are hard to see but they are the invading horde on our poor mimosa tree

The South has more bugs.  Lots more, and they are scarier.  Remember my encounter with the half-dollar sized spider that looked more like the alien from Alien?…  Today I came across one of these while spraying around the perimeter of our house for these (they call them “piss ants” around here).  They have honking big black mosquitoes with white marks called “Asian Tiger Mosquitoes” that seem to love me, and leave gigantic, painful welts in their wake – these have actually made me cry.  The Man regularly encounters Black Widows, and I saw some nasty looking larvae of what are called mud-daubers when he scraped their mud-daubs off the side of the house recently.  All I can say is…  YUCK.  And WHY has no one invented a combination sunscreen and bug spray??? (sidenote: just got a bite from a fire ant in the middle of writing this post… *sigh*)

The South has much longer traffic lights and much lower speed limits.  I think I read once that the average time spent stopped at a traffic light is two minutes.  Not even close down here.  I think it must be somewhere between 5 and 8 minutes.  Definitely long enough to check your Facebook updates and still get bored.  Average speed limit when you are anywhere near any people is 35mph.  It’s taking a little getting used to for this city girl.

The cable bill is crazy high and the insurance bill is crazy low.  It all evens out, I guess.

People love to talk.  The Man is no exception.  Don’t even think for a second that you will just “run in and run out” of some restaurant or store or any place of business.  Invariably, someone will stop to chat, and your errand that was supposed to take 10 minutes has now taken a half hour.  Don’t get me wrong!  I much prefer the smiles, and the “Hey!” (Southern for “Hi!”) everywhere you go, as opposed to the avoid-all-eye-contact-and-pretend-not-to-see-all-other-humans-in-the-vicinity way of dealing with other people in public that is de rigueur up North.  But things take longer down here, for sure.  Even the mail…

Did I mention that it’s hot?  I’m really not complaining.  But I’ve never slept night after night with no sheet or blanket, even with the air on.  I struggle with this a bit because I’m most comfortable with something over me, but even a sheet can be too hot.

Luckily, these are all things I think I can get used to with time (well, except the bugs).  I know there are more, but I’ll save those for another post.  And even with all of these new things to get used to, I wouldn’t trade places with anyone.  I am loving our new digs. ❤

Camp’s End

Today is The Boy’s last day of summer day camp, and he said yesterday that he will miss it.  We’ve come a long way from it not being just like ESY, and the battles to get him out the door because he couldn’t use a computer there.

With the end of his summer routine comes anxiety, both the good and bad kinds.  He is excited to start school, and we meet with his new principal next Tuesday to see the school and get a feel for how his days will run.  Of course they are still working on his schedule and reviewing his IEP to see how they are going to have to meet it, for 30 days at least…

His dad will most likely not be taking him for his summer visitation at all, so The Boy has two weeks until the new school routine starts.  He wants to get in last trips to the water park, the beach, and all of those activities which require free time.  We’re also going to be looking at some used bikes this weekend, so he can continue to ride around the neighborhood with his new buddies.

And of course, I have anxiety about this new school and whether or not they will be able to meet his needs.  Will we be able to work out our work and school schedules?  What will they try to change when the 30 days is up, and how hard will I have to fight?

Deep breath…

Whatever comes, we can handle it.  He didn’t like camp at first, and now he is going to miss it.  Me too.

hanging out

Autism and Attachment to Stuff

Google searchGoogle “Autism and Clothing” and what comes up are links upon links to articles, studies, and blog posts about sensory issues with clothing, and how clothing can be a source of anxiety and struggle for those on the spectrum.

But there was only one link about being emotionally attached to articles of clothing.  And it was a forum post from the experts – adults with autism.  From my quick perusal of the “research”, it doesn’t seem that anyone has studied this, but based on what I read on this wrongplanet forum post, there seems to be a correlation between a spectrum diagnosis and the sense that objects have “feelings”.  Unused, or un-purchased toys may feel “lonely” or “discarded” and therefore need to be saved.  Lego towers and models mustn’t be taken apart because that would be “like an execution”.  Clothing that has become too small must not be thrown out or donated, it must be kept forever, because it would be too sad, too unbearable to part with it.

Ring any bells?

Sometimes I fall into the trap, believing my child is rational because he usually has such a logical and straightforward outlook.  This attachment to things is miles from rational, yet it seems to be so prevalent in those with ASD…

Why has no one studied this?  Why has no one examined this and come up with strategies to deal with these anxieties about the feelings of objects?  Several of these adults with autism on the forum have even contemplated purchasing extra storage space so they could keep all of these “saved” items!  Yikes!

Clothing is one of our meltdown triggers, and I finally came to the realization that The Boy had this irrational attachment when we had a big meltdown the other morning.  He reacted to some “missing” (read: donated) size 8 pants (he wears 14-16 now) extremely emotionally, almost as if a pet had died.  That’s when I began my Google search.

Today, I floated an idea by him.  In the car, I mentioned to him that we could take pictures of the clothes that are too small before we donate them.  Sorta like my T-shirt project.  That way, he could “keep them” as long as he wished, and could look back on those clothes and the attached memories as many times as he liked, and the clothes themselves could go on to other families and be used by smaller kids.  He kinda liked the idea.  Which means it just might work…

I’ll keep you posted.

Earning Back the iPad

We are going to pick up the repaired iPad today, totalling around $150.  The Boy will have to “pay back” half of that cost as part of the lesson learned about throwing things while angry not being a good idea.  He will do so by stepping up with chores around the house.

It helps that this coincides with back-to-school routines, and I was inspired to use some visual cues when I saw these printable task cards.  I asked The Boy’s teacher if these would work, and she shared with me what really worked for him at school.  With her help, I came up with a plan to tackle this idea.

First, I found a list of age-appropriate chores on pinterest, and sat down with The Boy to let him choose which ones he was willing to perform at our house.  He quickly said, “I can do all of those!” – his great desire to be independent shining through.  I pared the list down to eight, and added two personal hygiene tasks that are always a struggle.

Second, I modified a chart from Home Made by Carmona that I have highlighted here before.  Rather than assigning a day per chore, I will leave that choice up to him – having choices is so powerful for our little (or not-so-little) guys with autism!

chore chart

Third, I let him choose some graphics to personalize the chart.  You can see his favorite, Sonic, encouraging him with thumbs up on the bottom!

Fourth, this all goes into a plastic sleeve, so he can check things off the list as they get done with a dry erase marker – very satisfying, and great for self-monitoring! We can also re-use the paper chart each week that way.

He has a lot of choice with this plan, and if the chores don’t all get done each week, it just takes longer to get the iPad “paid off”, which means a longer period of restricted time for playing with the iPad.  Natural consequences to motivate him to get those chores done!

Here’s hoping this works…

No Honeymoon for These Newlyweds and That’s Just Fine

The Man and I thought we might get a chance to run away for a bit when The Boy visited his dad in August, but guess what?  Yup.  The Boy will probably not be headed to his dad’s until Thanksgiving, if then.  We didn’t really expect this visitation to pan out, but it would have given us a little time together.

ShrimperIn any case, we are making the absolute most of our Saturday nights together, and it has turned into an extended honeymoon/staycation of sorts.  We have been lucky enough to have fantastic meals just about every Saturday since we started over a month ago.  And I have to tell you, for an area that has about 12,000 people, there are some damned good restaurants down here.  Plus, we live in an area that relies on tourism in the summer, so it’s pretty easy to take a “staycation” – beautiful warm summer evenings, quaint little towns through which to walk, replete with old cemeteries, gardens, and, well, the ocean.

So, while I could be really upset that we haven’t been able to go away somewhere together, I’m not in the least.  The Man and I have done enough traveling over the past four years just to be together.  Now that we are together, we have reveled in these semi-private Saturdays, and we’ve been able to drag it out all summer long.  I really couldn’t ask for more. ❤

PS Thank you, thank you, thank you to Grammy and Poppy for this priceless gift ❤

Water Boys

Water has such a great effect on both of my boys.

The Man is a surfer, and has been since he was 12.  He starts to get a little cranky if he hasn’t gone surfing in awhile, and just being in the water, doing his thing, does amazing things to his outlook.  He needs the water almost as much as he needs air to breathe.  That was part of the reason we decided early on that The Boy and I would move down here rather than have him move up north with us.  He wouldn’t have survived away from the ocean.

Beach BoysThe Boy reacts similarly to the water, like many kids with autism.  He has always been this way, and could very easily spend his entire day in some form of water.  I’ve written before about the amazing power of water over him, and the immediate calming effects.  If he starts heading toward a meltdown, throwing him in the tub for awhile is the easiest way to avert it.

Over the past several years, The Man has been introducing surfing to The Boy, and The Boy loves it.  I also love to see them sharing this.  The Man is amazingly patient teaching him where to position himself on the board, how to stand, and how to keep his balance.

Today, we went to the beach, and today, The Boy went from riding on his tummy, to kneeling, to standing on the board, all in one ride, and I think this was the first time I saw him do all of this in one motion.  And he was so persistent.  “One more time, because I wiped out.”  I could glimpse him doing all of this on his own in a few years, something I was never sure of before.  So often, those of us with kids on the spectrum really can’t see into the future like parents of NT kids can, so when we get a peek like this, it’s pretty exciting.

This makes me a proud and happy mama. 🙂