Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Sensory Green Zone

"This really makes everything look great!"

I found G taking a sensory break, watching tv in a hamper. Green's his favorite color, what could be better? He scooted around the house for an hour like this.

Friday, October 18, 2013

Bring it!

Mama's Autism-Ready...

Big $4 off sale today.

These will make thoughtful gifts for all my autism parent friends.

Thursday, October 17, 2013

Meet Mrs. Google Face

http://www.amazon.com/Roger-Hargreaves/e/B001HP0AXO/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1382025031&sr=8-1

411. Information please. Do other parents find themselves researching acronyms at every possible moment? The library was my second home as an only child growing up. I've always been curious. But now I fear I may have an addiction problem.

Hello. My name is Perky and I'm addicted to Google. I have no intention of quitting, but I thought I should announce it. Call it my public service action towards Google Addiction Awareness.

My friends and family suspect that I have an addiction to Facebook. Ha! That doesn't even scratch the surface. Oh, the autism facts my hard drive history could tell...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YfLlFwnPkEg

I take breaks from researching my latest alphabet soup issue (ASD, ADHD, OCD, SPD, etc.) to scour Facebook for breaking news on my key topics. Laws, therapies, meds, op-eds, technology breakthroughs, visual aids, strategy, coping, opportunities, forums, groups. I mark my calendar and set alarms for local parent and family events, podcasts, blogcasts, online discussions, conferences, support groups. I sit down to search one item and find my head whirling hours later with no clear solution. I'm faced with multiple possibilities and little time to put them in cohesive order, let alone an action plan.

Do we have too much information at our fingertips? Today's searches by the numbers:

Autism: 45,300,000 results
ADHD: 36,700,000 results
OCD: 19,800,000 results
Asperger's: 4,360,000 results
Sensory Processing: 8,980,000 results
Anxiety: 137,000,000 results
Autism Symptoms: 22,000,000 results
Autism Treatment: 55,300,000 results
Autism Diet: 35,500,000 results
IEP: 11,100,000 results

So many results, so little results.

I used to stay awake at night, struggling to put the information to work. Debunk, sort, prioritize, fit into my complex family life. Now that G's sleep is more regulated and his bedtime earlier, my body and brain collapse each night as if rejoicing after the years of brief interrupted sleep. I may be more rested, but I don't have the balance time of sifting through my daily research that I used to. Before, I'd be so worked up from G's late night energy surges and meltdowns that I'd research myself into exhaustion, then toss and fret myself to sleep for a couple hours. These days, I just crumble and pass out at midnight.

I justify my addiction. As autism parents, we're isolated in our oddity. Our disordered kids don't have neatly stacked symptoms and phases. Our kids often carry multiple acronyms in their diagnosis file, each adding complexity to their struggle. We don't have the luxury of calling a friend to compare notes and share parenting strategies. Our kids are individually wrapped with unique challenges and gifts. Rarely do we find a friend offline who's working on the same solution. We're left to seek out our lone epiphanies. When we do call another autism parent, their child may be in major meltdown or manic state, interrupting an enlightening conversation. We have other children to tend to, jobs, household and personal endeavors, sleep to catch up on if we're lucky.

Support groups are wonderful. Even if we don't get a chance to voice our concerns, we can offer hope and tips to other struggling parents. It gives us a lift to be able to guide or comfort another in our Lonely Hearts Club. But then at times our own issues pale by comparison. How can I bring up my frustration of my son's nose picking problem when the last bruised mom sobbed about her child's violent outbursts? This can work both ways: we may feel relieved that we're not currently in that horrific phase, yet still frustrated that we didn't share our own troubles.

The answer: we return home to google the quirks out of our own daily acronym-ism. We search for answers from fleeting e-relationships with peeps the world over who are dealing or have dealt with the same concern. We give virtual hugs. We friend them on Facebook if we've encountered each other in the same rocking boat multiple times. We invite them to like our pages or blogs as if we're inviting them to coffee. Come over to my blog, read awhile. Would you like cream and sugar? We seek community. We seek acceptance. We seek validation.

I seek, you seek.
We all seek for nice speak.

We take a break to see what our typical friends are up to. We wistfully sigh. We die a little inside. We throw up a little in our mouth. We share their joy, humor, triumph, love. We wish for them to never ever personally know the challenges we conquer. We wish for them the maturity, beauty, delights, warmth and human perspective that autism/special needs can bring to a home. We share happy photos, searching for the one in 238 pics where our kid has eye contact, no drool, no nose-wiped sleeves, no stains, possibly a natural smile. We celebrate our other kids a little too often. We post jokes and memes a bit too intensely, attempting to cheer ourselves as well our friends. Sally forth!

Then we return to our dear research. There's no expert on your child...except you.

Dear Google.
I love you a google and a peck. Indefinitely. Not gonna stop. Gotta get my fix. Must get my Google on.

Love Always,
Mrs. Google Face

((((((((virtual hugs))))))))

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

It Don't Mean a Thing if You Ain't Got that Swing

G's favorite pastime: swinging. Last year I'd hear reports that G didn't socialize at recess. I was heartbroken whenever I volunteered at the school and stayed for recess. I'd watch him play alone. I tried to facilitate play with his classmates, but most often G lost interest to his own obsessive play habits or just led me around. Clearly, playing with mom wasn't cool for his peers to see, even in 1st grade. I began to simply try to forge connections for him within the classroom and left before recess.

A dear friend gathered a few moms to set up a "G playday program" with their sons from his classroom. Each day, a different boy was assigned to ask G to join in their fun and games at recess. I'd ask G daily who he played with. He often couldn't remember their names or got them wrong, though he'd known most of them for 2 years. He'd just as often say he'd played for awhile and then gone on the swings by himself.

"Sometimes I just want to swing the whole recess, Mom!" he explained.

"Don't you want to play along with the others and run and laugh and play games?"

"Some of the other kids get mad at me because I play their games wrong."

"Ask your "buddies" to teach you the rules. Or find another group that's doing something you enjoy and play with them."

"Really Mom, I don't care about playing with anybody. Swinging makes me feel all better."

One day I asked him who he played with and what they'd done at recess. He told me Boy A, when I knew that he'd played with Boy A the day prior and played with Boy B this day.

"Really G, I know you played with Boy B today, I talked to his mom."

"Nope. It was Boy A. It was wearing the same coat as yesterday."

IT.
Was.
Wearing.
The.
Same.
Coat.

IT! .....Coat!
This truly brought home the realization of how deeply I overestimated his social awareness. No facial recognition, because G never looked at the boy's face. No personification, because IT was merely a plaything, not a person. I cried for days. Then I moved on. As we must.

Hope. I'm not holding my breath, but this year G may be getting more socially active. I gave up pressuring him and badgering him about being social after the grand lesson from last year about It Boy. But now he offers up his recess adventures more freely. He tells me that he plays with this group, or this boy. Always with a variation of, "My bestest friend EVER in the whole wide world", which changes daily. He still may not know exactly who he's playing with at times, though I've been impressed that he's naming different boys in his class and from last year too. But what matters most is that he's getting joy from social interaction. I dream of him having a best friend someday, but maybe I'm selfishly projecting my wishes on him. He may not need a best friend. For now, at least he's moving towards social. Plus, he's supremely happy. Who can argue with that?

Sensory Rocks! And swings, apparently. This photo says it all: I love that G is casually crossing his legs while swinging high. He's most definitely "got that swing"!

Since he was a baby, G reacted the opposite of others. While I used to take my colicky infant daughter in the car to calm her and put her to sleep, G conversely revved up and cooed. When we go to family outings and drive home late, my teens fall asleep within minutes in the car. G hypes up and chatters us home. No worries about falling asleep at the wheel with G on board. The faster the highway, the more intellectual he gets. "Did you know that...," "What does it mean when..." "How does...", etc. He gets very loud, talks very loud, and sings like a bird. His siblings get quite annoyed in the confined space. Their carpool friends have grown accustomed to it. I love it, and get a large charge out of it. Of course, I have my days when I dream of silence and a Motrin. But we have some of our best discussions and silliest moments on the move.

The most telling moment of the sensory-seeking movement phenomenon was at Cedar Point Amusement Park this summer. G asked, "Mom, can I ride Top Thrill Dragster again? You know, when I go really fast it calms me down." I was floored at his self-awareness! We don't talk about his sensory needs or behaviors, so this was all him, as were his self-soothing swinging stims at recess last year. If only I could drive 120 mph and go straight up and straight down each hour to calm him. I wonder if there are zoning laws in my neighborhood for such a Thrill ride? I'd bet we'd have a line of bestest friends ever in the whole wide world lined up to share in his sensory play.

Monday, October 14, 2013

De script or...not

G wearing what he dubs his "Blonde" pants.

Squinty night owl in Blonde pants eating breakfast on the way to school

Friday, October 11, 2013

Star Struck

G was Star of the Week in his 2nd grade class the 1st full week of school. Each day we were assigned a different fun project to introduce him to his classmates. I was thrilled that he was chosen so early in the schoolyear. It gave us the opportunity to get him talking about himself to his peers and sharing items that are important to him. You know, like real social stuff!

I was tickled to read his "About Me" poster that he'd filled in at school.

I quizzed his siblings to guess what his answer was for the question, "I'm a star because...". Like me, they both predicted it would be something about his Minecraft skills (obsession).

What a delightful surprise! I'm gratified that our consistent stream of hugs, cuddles, laughs and chatter is breaking through. His family IS actually more important to him than Minecraft. Imagine that. He never ceases to amaze us. You're absolutely right Super Star, we DO love you most.

Get Your Quirks On!

You're cordially invited to:

Invite all your friends! Please share.

Families and caregivers touched by special needs/autism need a perky party! Find your happy place. Share your priceless stories, photos, videos, drawings, parody, someecards, sound bytes, creations... of quirky FUN!
Facebook special needs pages and groups are full of info, news, questions, trauma, heartbreak, fear, help, sharing, caring and love. I love all of it. I couldn't cope without my precious Facebook support in my isolated world.

But, what's missing? Laughs! A sweet spot to share our playful, adorable, gleeful, zany treasured stories.

Special needs parenting often brings zany ridiculous moments to the mix. All parents have stories about the amusing things their kids say or do. We all have memories of hysterical times with teachers, therapists, friends, strangers. A twist of the mundane can turn silly. Let's shine some light on our lives. Spread humor to celebrate our random moments of comic relief.

Please submit your merriment to:

perkyquirks@gmail.com

Or post it to Facebook page:

All in a Day's Quirks
https://www.facebook.com/pages/All-in-a-Days-Quirks/111116812270654

Necessary Warnings:

Safety First: Remember that I can't control the audience. Feel free to change names if you like, and consider omitting any identifying info. The web is a creepy place at times.

Poking fun at special needs will not be tolerated. Content of poor taste will be removed promptly. No flames whatsoever. Bully Free Zone.

Grins and giggles are warmly welcomed. Spread a bit of love, support, cheer, whimsy, MAGIC! Support spoken here. Feel. The. Love.

Life's a laugh riot. Get your quirks on!

Thursday, October 10, 2013

Weather Dude

Weather report: foggy with frost bites

"It's so cold the grass got frost bites!"

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Quotable Quirks #1

We've all heard the famous quote:

Life's not about avoiding the storm,

but learning to dance in the rain

~Unknown

I've adapted it to reflect autism parenting:

Sunday, October 28, 2012

A Look Behind the Mask

I saw this note posted and shared several times on Facebook this year. I've tried to find the original poster/creator, to no avail. I wish I could thank them for creating awareness. I'm stuck in my little world of
G's issues, fears and needs and this post opened an even larger perspective to me. Considering my sizable exposure to special needs in the past several years, I have become much more tuned in to all children's behaviors, typical or other. But, on a daily basis, it's sometimes all I can do to live up to my own duties and concerns as an Autism parent, tween and teen as well.

How's that for Eye Contact?

I remember my older children in their baby and toddler years. I'd prep them and practice trick or treating behind doors in the house, giggling along the hallway. I let them help me pick out decorations, pumpkins and the type of candy to pass out. They watched or "helped" me decorate the house inside and out. They picked out their costumes and wore them around the house for weeks. We went to so many Halloween parties, parades and playgroups before the big day that our displays of crafts, decorate yourself snacks, toys and goodies rivaled the Halloween night haul. I told my husband it was to get our money's worth out of the costume, but it was to get them ready for the holiday, in all it's scary-ness. And yet, they still only lasted a few houses, if any. My husband would bring them home crying big tears down their chubby cheeks, sputtering hysterically and reaching for the safety of "Mama". Let's face it, no matter what we try, how much we practice, Halloween is unnatural. We don't dress them in uncomfortable itchy costumes, strap masks over their ears that pull at their hair, and go for walk in the dark, nearly bedtime. However close we stand, be it the sidewalk, the steps, or the porch next to them - the only place they want to be is in your arms, or HOME. Instead we tell them to ring the bell and ask for candy with some strange words about tricks. No matter how much candy they get, it would be so much easier to give them candy from our own overflowing bowls. But tradition prevails and we work them into acceptance until they love it...usually.

His "Scary" look

As years pass, we still go to the multitude of pre-Halloween events, for no holiday lasts but a day anymore, but a week, oftentimes a month. Children get over their fears as they see their bright plastic pumpkins fill up. They go trick or treating with whole groups of families, even get pulled like royalty in wagons, hayrides. They get over those early fears and embrace the joy, the compliments on their costumes, the spooky excitement, the spectacular decorations, the CANDY.

BUT, not all kids who look brave are. Our special needs kids react very differently to this strange holiday. His/her parents may have worked for weeks to prep them, condition their child for this frightening night with its odd customs and costumes. Each year, these parents work on the same issues as they once did with their babies, toddlers. Our kids stay stuck in those early stages or move slower into it, delayed. Therapists instruct parents: In all things - repetition, practice, patience, DE-SENSITIZE.
But...Halloween is all about senses, more than any other holiday, its' theme is designed to attack the senses, create fear. Many of our children are seized by fear and anxiety as part of their core symptoms. Many cling to safety, routine, familiar, CONTROL. Because this holiday is celebrated at night, that familiarity is gone, the safety difficult to discern. Their fear goes much deeper than typical Halloween fear. Their fear may quickly escalate to fight or flight; cause anxiety attack or full-on meltdowns, screaming, running, grasping for the familiar, needing control. For this reason, even parents of older children on the spectrum must accompany their kids and be on high alert to their body language, eye movements, tone of voice (if verbal), etc.. Our kids often don't recognize their limitations or know when to stop. We know our kids best: how to persuade them, cajole them to safety before they reach high alert. Not only would that situation be uncomfortable or embarrassing for the siblings, friends and (possibly) child - it could easily escalate to a dangerous level. My G runs blindly when he reaches a high level of anxiety or excitement. He may run into traffic, hide or run into someone or something. The possibility for injury to him or others is high with all these factors - dark, many cords and odd placements for decorations, many walkers, wagons, cars, portable campfires, difficult visibility. It's certainly a recipe for disaster without carefully planned safety checkpoints in place.

Captain Candy in Control

Your house may be the first or only house a special needs child can find the courage to come to. We're blessed with great neighbors that we know. We skip those we don't. Because G gets spooked, he only goes to a few homes and then returns home to hand out candy, where HE is in control. Last year he made it a few short blocks, then ran as fast as he could home almost losing my speedy daughter, my husband minutes behind, out of breath and flustered. Thankfully we had walkie-talkies and a super fast sister. I shivered in fright to think what might have happened if my daughter had gone ahead with her friends earlier instead of spending the first few blocks helping G. Still, we were thrilled that he lasted as long as he did. As soon as he arrived home he drew a big labored breath, let it out in a rush as let me hug him briefly, asking about handing out candy all the while. He put down his orange bucket, threw off his costume, and took post in front of the door. He was in control, Captain Candy in Control.

I've come up with a few extra ideas I'll put into place this year. Many are practices we've always done like flashlights, phones, etc., but this list will keep it all together.Because in all areas, as he ages and gets more verbal, taller, smarter - most people (and even us) take him at face value, as he looks or talks. He often fools others into thinking he has it all together. Don't get me wrong, this is exactly what my long hours of research, working with him, getting him extra help, and talking talking talking to him have paid off with (and won't cease any time soon). I'm very proud of this kiddo and what he's moved past. But, we need these items in place for that reason. We cannot take anything about his safety for chance. Underneath, he's still ridden with anxiety and fight-or-flight responses to stress and fear. During these times, he loses language and shrieks and runs, getting physical with anything willfully blocking his path. This is exactly what I want in a stranger-danger situation, but Halloween not so much. His shrieks will fit right in to the neighborhood din, I'm afraid.

Day(s) Before:

Plan maps and gather all supplies, laying the path for a smooth Halloween day
Let G write and check off items on To-Do List
Ask G if he wants to go Trick or Treating, and how long he thinks
Plan route for trick or treating
Let G draw the Route Map with street names
Label the homes with neighbor's names and let him decide if he wants to go to unknown neighbors
Draw in Safe Points at close friends' home where he can go if he gets lost or scared
Pass out copies of map to whole family, whether they'll be with him or not
Decide if he'll accompany other groups of friends walking

Halloween:

Phones/walkie-talkies* for all
Flashlights for all
Fresh/charged batteries for above
Wear safety reflectors
Carry a whistle around his neck in case he gets lost or scared and walkie-talkie doesn't work
Carry whistle of another tune for Dad to for G to locate**
Ask G where he wants Dad to stand while he goes to porches
Have Dad ask him every 15 minutes if he wants to continue to avoid overdoing it and meltdowns mid-route
If Dad notices G is weary but he denies it, remind him that he can hand out candy at home or sort his candy
Have fun!

The Big Haul, time to sort!

*G doesn't have a cell phone yet, but did put it on his short list for his upcoming 7th birthday containing only one other item. :) Sorry, not gonna happen, cutie.

** Several items overlap with redundancy. I've found that if I give G one way to communicate, he may not remember to use it. If I give him 2-3, he may find the right method that suits him. Example: If he's running, he may use the whistle instead of trying to figure out the walkie-talkie.

Pumpkin-Carving Day 2011 with DMUM,
an amazing Autism Treatment Fundraising group of University of Michigan Students

Monday, October 22, 2012

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Stress by Numbers: The Quirky Report

This marvelous dance of life gets mighty frustrating

I love that this sign goes with
my cha-cha motto

Employment stress:
5,000 steps forward, 500 steps back

Finance/Recession:

1 step forward, 500 steps back x 1,000

Weight loss YoYo Struggles:

5,000 steps forward, 2,500 steps back x 100

Infertility Issues:

one step forward, 1,000 steps back

Adoption:

1,000,000,000 forward x 2, 0 steps back

Dysfunctional Extended Family Conflict:

1,000 steps forward, 1,000,000 steps back

Friends (Chosen Family) Support:

100,000 steps forward, 1,000 steps back

Marital Strife:
1,000 steps forward, 5,000 steps back

http://www.zazzle.com/256853555741858037

Teenager Conflict:

1,000 steps forward, 500 steps back

Autism Acceptance:

25,000 steps forward, 15,000 steps back

Autism Coping:

50,000 steps forward, 100,000 steps back

Autism Therapy:

100,000 steps forward, 25,000 steps back

Autism Advocacy:

5,000 steps forward, 1,000,000 steps back

Autism Life Lessons:

1,000,000 steps forward, 0 steps back

...and so on, You get the idea. Not a walk in the park.
Just like everyone else, we're each fighting our own battles.

I'm surely glad that I'm not
a mathematician.

http://www.zazzle.com/235570888085018672

I'd be completely depressed at the sum total of back steps.
Then again, maybe not.
I try my best not to dwell
on subtractions,
focus only on additions.

Life lesson:

Step out of your box.
Go forward.

Take baby steps.
Take giant steps
when you're up to it.
Accept that no one knows what you'll step into until you do.

Keep dancing...
turn up the volume, kick off your shoes, sing loudly, laugh, dance!
Let it all out!

Don't tally your problems.
Count your lessons. Learn.
Press onward.
Your journey, your strength, is what counts.

YOLO!

These cowboys look like the're having a blast!

I'm not a big country music fan, but this sure is a romantic idea to with your sweetie. :)

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Quiver and Quake

I'm feeling proud of my 13 year old for telling the truth about an extremely poor choice. While I'm ashamed, I'm proud of his courage for facing authority and consequences on his own.

I'm quite sure his voice was shaking.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Artsy Autsy

I'm going to art class today!

(with a bunch of 6 year old's)

I'm positively thrilled to be back helping out in the school art room after a 3 year G-induced hiatus. I worked for years volunteering in N and M's art classes. We had to stop participating when G began pulling paints, paintbrushes and paintrush-cleaning water cups, chalk, and other fine messes onto his lap or the floor. From his stroller. In the middle of the aisle. He'd work at scooting/pulling his stroller over to a table and go from there.

Quick as a flash.

Before that at 2, he was harmless entertainment. The students loved to give him items simply to watch him throw them across the room, cracking himself up. Tirelessly, over and over. The art teacher was so incredibly patient. Thank goodness G was adorable with his blonde ringlets. Those little curls saved us from being booted out of the art room, saved my sanity and let me get some creative input. Saved by the curls.

After that, I became Craft Mama for a few mom's clubs I was in. My thinking was that if I involved G, he'd remain engaged. My kids would make examples of the crafts the day before our craft days, and I had notions that he'd help me get needed supplies together. We all know how that went as an undiagnosed, untreated ADHD autistic kiddo. He'd run all over the facility, out into the parking lot, the road, etc. I had to get assistants to take turns watching him and helping the children in the group. I could count on a few minutes at the snack table, as he'd shove 14 cookies, 3 helpings of pretzels, 76 goldfish and 3 juice boxes down. And a banana that he stole from a baby's hands. That was about it. I began bringing games and activities to craft days, hoping he'd play instead. Nope, that sensory beast of burden wouldn't let him relax, engage. It was fight or flight all the way, which led to my feelings of the same afterwards. Most afternoons I'd cry on the way home and pray that just once, he'd take a nap and let me have a break after we got home. Never happened.

I'm thrilled to report that after diagnosis and treatment, G occasionally gets a strong focus (oh, that beautiful word: f-o-c-u-s) on creativity. He draws from memory quite well. I was blown away when at 5, he drew items in a plan view, all sides of an object laid out in a flat drawing. Think fold-up box on a piece of cardstock, a template...

Obviously not this detailed and no fold lines, but he'd draw all sides of an object, house, car, toy, etc. So interesting!

Now he's in his first school art class. I get to help with his 1st grade class - all year - how cool is that?

My favorite lesson from years past as art room helper and mom's club craft mom...

Kids often get uptight when their project isn't exactly like the teacher's example.

They cry:

"I messed up!"

"I can't do it"

"Mine doesn't look like that at all!"

"I want to do it over!"

This isn't working!"

"I quit!"

I guided mostly; helped if it was truly needed, especially in technique; or if there were tears, tantrums.

But

my favorite message to relay to children about art is:

"There are no mistakes in art. It's all beautiful." I assure with a smile.

This probably doesn't fit with the elementary curriculum, but it's true. I haven't been fired for sharing this doctrine, and I was invited back, so... you do the math. Or the art, rather.

In the professional creative world, they're often called "happy mistakes". Often the coolest visuals are unintended, mistakes.

Not fussy, contrived or over-thought.

Just as in life, there are few mistakes that can't be fixed. Many don't need fixing. The path we follow is full of bumps and drips, and squiggles that take us right to the place we need to be.

Original, unique, perfect for us.

I'm getting a little lofty for 1st grade art class now, aren't I? I'd better tone it down.

Should I skip the beret?

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Data LamBasted

Here's a sure sign that your name is on a random database with really bad information. This came for my husband today...and his birthday was 3 months ago. Teehee.

It's the thought that counts, right?

Friday, May 11, 2012

I'm All Ears, Honey

Van Gogh's Ear 1888

"Scooter, turn the volume down."

"I can't!"

"Why not?"

"Because this cereal."

"What?"

"This cereal is too loud. It makes it hard to hear!"

Alrighty then. This I can understand. Even we mere mortals with typical sensory processing can relate. Funny how he appears deaf when I call out to him at times, lost in his own world. Strange how he talks so loudly that everyone turns to stare, yet crunchy cereal chewing overtakes his ability to hear Spongebob 5 feet away.

Scooter's sensory issues are a moving target. I never know how he'll react. Even if I followed him around with a notebook - which I do in my head anyway - I'd never discover a pattern, be able to predict his needs. Just when I think I've got him figured out, he switches it up on me.

Scooter was truly bestowed upon me to keep me on my toes. I love to dance to a funky beat; but I'd love to be able to choose my own songs, tempo, bass, treble, balance.
Volume. Pitch. Harmony.

My senses are hyper-focused on your every move, kiddo.
Sensory Assimilation.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Easy Cheesy

See recipes below...

"I can't find the Sprinkle Cheese!"

Hmmmm...search...translate

Our newly dubbed Sprinkle Cheese

"Ohhhhhhh!
You mean the co-jack, orange and white cheese? We don't have any."

Rooting around the fridge, I found his absolute fave smoked gouda.

We fight over this in our home.
Thank goodness for
Costco-sized hunks of this delicacy.

"Mom, you're a genius!"

Wow, that was easy!

Today is going to be a great day. :~D

Rainbow cake recipes - I just may have to make these!
http://www.the-girl-who-ate-everything.com/2010/03/because-life-isnt-always-rainbows-and.html

http://iheartcuppycakes.com/2009/04/12/taste-the-rainbow/

Rainbow cake in a jar - awesome teacher/therapist gift!
http://www.hawaiikawaii.net/2012/rainbow-cake-in-a-jar-kawaii-cakes/

Monday, May 7, 2012

Superpowers, Defined

Read this heartwarming post from a gem of a little sister.
My Brother Has Real Superpowers | hereirawr
I've shared books, classes, support groups and constant reminders with my older children in helping them to understand and cope with their little brother's autism (etc.). I know I'll share this post too. I've recently begun searching for just the right book to open the door of awareness and hope for my special Scooter. I don't think he has awareness yet of his differences, despite my openness and many attempts to explain his autism to him both casually and formally. I think the visual and tactile sensory input from a book, app, or video may help him to "see" himself.
I'd love suggestions on methodology or recommendations on books or other media. He needs to be aware before first grade. It will be my goal for the summer. He needs to know that he is not alone in his struggles, differences,and above all- superpowers.

Friday, April 27, 2012

Cannibals at Dollar Tree

Scooter's cannibalized child's rhyme:

This little piggie went to Dollar Tree
This little piggie stayed home
This little piggie ate some ham
This little piggie got none
and this little piggie
played wii wii wii all day long!

Monday, April 16, 2012

Expressive #&?#@%+! Language

I heard a loud "whoosh" of cereal from the kitchen. Then, "Shit!" Scooter! At least he's using the word in proper context.
I found Scooter trying to get rid of the evidence as I came in. Yuck - eating off the floor.
15 minutes later he was lapping at his leftover cereal milk like a kitty.
Yup, these are the proud moments I live for.
Sigh.
Shit.