Things in unusual places

So tonight J had a bit of a meltdown.  Bless his baby heart.  He just really likes things to be a certain way and he does not like his things to be messed with.  With that in mind we make sure to have him keep his bedroom locked as his brother loves to get into it and explore.  Not a good mix.  So tonight J went upstairs to put away a stack of shirts and I suddenly heard screams and wails from the upstairs region.  "I can't believe it, he did it again!"  I knew immediately what had happened.  Z had gotten into J's room and "rearranged" things.  For some reason Z likes to take J's plastic ikea table that he uses to put puzzles together and put it on J's bed then balance an animal or two on top of that.  I think he considers it art, J considers it destruction, I actually consider it amusing (I know bad mom award).

I think the reason I consider it amusing is I've grown to just embrace the idea that in our home things just turn up in unusual and unique places.  I actually consider it a good day when necessary things (car keys, house keys, purses, wallets, etc) stay where they are put.  I think for me I've adopted a if you can't beat them join them, or at least be amused at them.  For instance, Z loves blankets.  Quilts mostly.  We have several quilts that Brandon's mom and grandma have given us, some being very old and sentimental and we are trying really hard to preserve them but that is proving harder and harder.  For some reason Z finds them no matter where I hide them.  He then wears them around the house, puts them on the side porch where he likes to go burrow into a pile of various pillows and blankets, or shoves them into a storage bench he likes to close himself into.  I find them when he's at school, wash them again, hide them in a new place and our game of hide and seek starts all over again.  Believe me, this child is not wanting for quilts.  He's got at least 4 of them on his bed!

Something else we find in unusual places is clothing.  Now I know many of us have problems with our kids leaving their clothes all over the house.  The thing with Z is that he starts to strip as soon as he hits the back door.  Yesterday I came home from work and stepped into the house to see his underpants, shorts, and t-shirt on the back entryway floor.  He really hates to wear clothes.  I have learned to just be glad that he keeps his clothes on everyplace else other than our house.  I'll take my victories where I can get them.

Toys are also found in unusual places.  These bring me the most amusement.  I have found beanie babies in the bushes.  I realized that Z squeezed them out a partially open window, probably figuring that even if he wasn't able to get outside he would give his beloved stuffed animals freedom.  I have found beanie babies in our trees.  For those of you who don't know Z loves to climb trees and my thought was he probably just wanted some company.  I think Z would stay in the tree 24/7 if we let him so he figured his beanies would feel the same way.   I have attempted to go bed before and found my bed invaded by friendly if not prolific wind-up toys or a whole zoo of little people animals.

The boys just really like to control their environment, and to be frank I can't blame them.  If I had a disorder that made much of my life feel out of control I would want to have control over as much as I could.  I guess in that becomes my reality.  How much do I let them control their environment and how much do I make their home a place of peace and calm where they can control how the interact with it?  We have to teach the boys how to interact with the world and how to adapt when they are out of their home but when we are home I want them to be comfortable and at peace.  That is not always possible, especially when J leaves his door open and Z uses that as an opportunity for free expression on J's bed but that's a level of adaptation I'm willing to work with.

Maybe things aren't so unusual after all.

How many times do I have to repeat?

We are a visual family.  I have discovered that using verbal instructions is only partially effective at best and visual cues are the best.  When I say to J to go upstairs and get his socks out of his drawer and put them on he will quickly go upstairs for anywhere between 10 and 15 minutes after which point he will come back downstairs and ask what he was supposed to be doing upstairs. Or he will come downstairs having completely changed his clothes and have nothing on his feet.  I admit there are times this amuses me and times it infuriates me.  Mostly depending on how late we are.  

With Z it is even more dicey.  I can say to him to go get his sippy cup when he comes and asks for water.  I know he has had the cup within 5 to 10 minutes of his requesting more water but for some reason 9 times out of 10 I get something brought to me other than a sippy cup.  I've had bowls of cereal, stuffed animals, dirty socks, his father's empty water glass, pretty much anything he can get his hands on figuring hes bringing me something.  I think he figures it's some kind of exchange.  He brings me an empty bag of chips and I give him a full sippy of water.  

So we have found that having a visual picture or having things written down is a huge help.  At school the boys carry around small paper size white boards where they are able to write down lists or choices when they come up quickly.  We also try to have pictures of some of Z's favorite items so he can choose what he most likes.  

I think what I have found out is the more I try to get the boys to act like regular kids and do what typical kids would do the more frustrated everyone gets.  Once I realize how their brains work and what works best with their brains then I can figure out real world solutions that help them to navigate through this sometimes alien and unaccommodating world they find themselves in.  This means that I have to repeat myself over and over again with minimal results or I can write it down or get a picture of it and say it once.  

Autism vs the mice.....the sequel

So our last installment of Autism vs the Mice left us with the cliffhanger of Brandon wanting the mice dead and load testing various surfaces and J pleading for the lives of the unsuspecting mice.  You seriously can't make this stuff up.

I places the traps in various places where mice had been sighted around the house after loading them up with peanut butter and chocolate.  I was ready to catch me some mice.  The next day I checked the traps.  Nothing.  Seriously, there was not a mouse to be seen in any of them.  Ok, so maybe this would take a few days.  Well, it's been several days and so far no mice. 

So what's up?  Did I scare the mice away?  Were they so intimidated by my threatening, British made, mouse traps (we really are quite international here) that they immediately packed up and moved out?  Are they regrouping for round two?  I really think someone should write a book about mouse psychology.  I'd buy it, at least if it would help me catch the little turkeys.  

So, there ya have it.  The mice seem to have backed off but we are not sure if they have made a full retreat.  If anyone has any sage advice or can off any mouse whisperer services let me know. 

Never more than I can handle

It's interesting, I have always been told that God will not give us more than we can handle.  I have heard that and wondered if God has entirely too high an opinion of me.  There have been seasons where I have just wanted to pull the covers over my head and pretend the world away.  Honestly there have been times where I have actually done that.  The thing is that there is so much guilt over the idea that we, as moms, are not able to handle what we are given.  We are supposed to have it all and be able to do it all, work, raise children, keep our house clean, keep our husbands happy, helps others, it goes on and on.  The problem is that when a mom gets a child with special needs they don't get a pass.  They are still expected to do all these things and deal with their special needs child.  Is this fair?  No, but it does happen.

I remember when J was 5 and Z was 3.  One day Z was in the backyard playing and I got a phone call, I ran into the house to answer the phone and as I walked back outside talking on the phone I realized Z was gone.  I ran around calling for him and called 911.  As I was on the phone with the woman dispatcher she indicated they had a call of a child at our corner gas station.  This gas station is at the corner of two 4-6 lane roads counting turning lanes so it's pretty major.  I grabbed J and ran to the gas station with a police officer following. We saw Z and brought him back home.  I remember standing in my kitchen with the police officer who asked me how I was going to keep this from happening again.  I looked around the room at the windows that only opened 2 inches to keep Z from climbing out them, at the outside door that was double key locked both inside and outside, at the bars on the upper windows that opened more than 2 inches, and I didn't have an answer.  After he left I started figuring out a plan B and that was where we found Gemini our amazing Autism Service Dog.

I'm not trying to start a pity party or look for extra sympathy from those who do not have special needs children since many parents have times in their lives where their children go through seasons of having special needs.  What I am doing is speaking to the moms of those kids with special needs.  It's ok to not be ok.  It's ok  to not have all the answers and to just make the best decision you can make at the time. It's ok to leave your child with a baby-sitter so you can go out to eat with your husband or even alone with a good book and not talk to anyone for a whole night.  It's ok to ask your doctor for medication to help take the edge off the depression you are experiencing due to the extreme stress and pressure you are under every day or to help deal with the anxiety you feel over trying to keep your child save all the time.

Sometimes you get more than you can handle and it's ok to ask for help.

Autism vs the Mice

What an adventure we are having.  About a week or so ago it became apparent we may have mice.  We noticed rustling in places where no one was.  Then earlier this week we had an unfortunate incident.  Brandon was in working at the dining room table and I was in the living room.  Suddenly I heard a horrible scream/yell from the dining room.  I seriously thought Brandon was having a heart attack.  I ran into the dining room to see my husband of 13 years standing on a chair explaining to me that a mouse had jumped out of on of my bags and ran across the floor.  I asked where the mouse had gone but he was to traumatized he wasn't able to tell me.  I figured we get some traps and take care of it.   I grew up in the country and mice happened.  Unfortunate but not a huge deal.  It did take a while to coax Brandon off the chair but eventually he came down and we went to bed.

Over the next several days any creek, squeak, rustle, and thud was attributed to the mouse.   Based on that assumption we appeared to have about 20-30 mice and possibly a polar bear.  (luckily the polar bear ended up being Z jumping off his bed upstairs).  J came up with an elaborate trap to catch the mouse.  It involved a box, stick, yarn, and bread with peanut butter.  It was quite elaborate although there was much angst, tears, and yelling when Gemini came in from outside and promptly ate the bait.  What can I say, she loves peanut butter.  Poor J was crushed and I made it even worse by laughing.  I know, once again I'm not getting the mother of the year award, I laughed.  It seriously was funny.  J didn't think so.  I'm such a bad mom.

So we now come to last night.  I was so tired that I went to bed early.  Little did I know the drama that would take place while I was innocently sleeping.  Brandon decided about midnight that he heard more rustling in the bag that had put him on the chair in the first place.  J apparently was up getting a drink of water so Brandon being the brave man he is decided the best thing to do was to throw my bag out the front door onto the sidewalk.  Now let me clarify this.  I'm not talking about 3-5 feet from the front door, I'm talking 10 or more feet that Brandon chucked my bag.  He was so brave he had J open the door while he threw my bag.  He then decided that perhaps he should check if I had anything of value in the bag.  So he got J to look in the bag after they hit it with a broom handle.  (remember, I'm upstairs sleeping peacefully while this injustice is being done to my innocent bag).

So the next morning at 6am I get up and am getting ready.  Brandon happens to mention to me that my bag had to be tossed outside due to the mouse infestation he was sure was inside of it.  I went downstairs and realized my bag was still on the sidewalk in front of our house with part of the items that were inside (yarn, package of gum, rain cover for my ipad, etc) spread out around it.  They had left my bag outside on the sidewalk all night long.  When I asked them about this they felt this was completely reasonable since there could have been a mouse inside and you don't want to put the purse by the front door, then the mouse could run back into the house.  You also want to make sure the mouse has plenty of time to decide to leave the purse.  I had no words.

So after work today I went to the store and got three traps.  I had to make sure that I got ones that kept the mouse alive as J is completely traumatized at the idea that we would even consider killing any of these mice. Brandon is pretty much ready to nuke them all and Z is blissfully unaware as he travels around the house dropping crumbs.  So right now the mice are winning the the Autism vs the Mice battle, however, mom has entered the battle and believe me, she's in it to win it.

So, why would a faithful God create mice.  I'll get back to you on that one.

My Rebellion

I have to admit.  I am a rebel.  I have always been a rebel.  You tell me I can't do something and that's pretty much the only thing I want to do.  Not so great when you are a pastor's daughter and then a pastor's wife.  It has served me well when I've had to do things that are not bad just difficult, however.  So, you take the good, you take the bad, you take them both.....(grin).

Ok, so now to be serious.  I have to admit I'm not running on much sleep Zach has been up for several nights with a cold so I've been up for several nights with Zach so take this post for what it's worth and forgive any ramblings.  I rebel against Autism.  I'm really guilty of it.  Sometimes I succeed at it and sometimes it kicks me in the butt and I have to pick myself up and give myself a pep talk, but I always keep rebelling against it.  I just hate to be told I can't do something.

Take today for instance.  I need to make something for the breakfast we are having at church tomorrow.  I can totally go to the store and buy a package of donuts or danish and everyone would understand and probably love them.  No big deal.  However, that is not me.  I LOVE to bake.  I love to create things and love to make yummy things in my kitchen.  The thing is that it is really, really hard to do with the boys.  There have been so many times where I have tried to bake and ended up with Z playing on the floor in a pile of flour.  Z loved it, not so great for baking edible items.  So I tend to get nervous about baking but really want to try.  So today I decided to rebel.  I decided to make cinnamon rolls from scratch for the breakfast tomorrow.

Here's the thing.  It worked.  The boys played nicely while I made the dough and other than a few trips to the bathroom with Z and a few computer issues everything went really well and my dough is rising.  Haha, Autism, I win!!  I know to many of you this seems so silly but to me it's a nice feeling.  There are many battles with Autism that I can't win yet but I'm able to make home made cinnamon rolls and that, for today, is a victory.

Pop Rocks on the floor

OK, so there are so many things in life that I try to be careful about concerning the boys.  I try to anticipate issues that may arise in new places or situations and prepare the boys as much as possible for those things.  I try to adapt our home to make them comfortable and have places to relax and feel secure.  I succeed at this sometimes and not so much at other times.  Tonight I failed miserably.

I found a package of pop rocks at the food pantry tonight.  It brought back such fun memories of my childhood and eating pop rocks when I was about J's age.  I could not wait to get home and have J try them.  I came home and showed them to J and had him try a couple.  He put them in his mouth and looked at me with a panicked look on his face.  He asked what they were and I told him pop rocks.  He immediately spit them out on the floor of the kitchen and asked why I would do this to him?  I told him I liked them and thought maybe he would like them too.  Didn't work.  He immediately teared up and looked like I had just told him the internet was broken.  Seriously, my chances of getting the mother of the year award just died.  It's over.  

I went into the living room to have dinner and put my feet up and J came in a while later to say goodnight.  He once again asked why I would offer him pop rocks, asking in such a way in imply that I was trying to poison him in some way.  I simply told him I thought he would like them since I like them.  After J went to bed Brandon told me he had never had pop rocks either.  I was really surprised by that so I offered him the packet.

I looked over at Brandon and the look on his face was priceless.  He had the most pained look on his face.  I started laughing so hard.  It was so funny.  He asked how long it would continue to pop.  I told him until they dissolved.  He didn't look pleased.  It was so funny.  

I realized that this was a situation where I was totally not clued into the idea that for a child with autism pop rocks would rock his world in a very bad way.  I totally missed that this was such a really bad idea and would compromise his trust in me.  I didn't realize soon enough that my liking something isn't enough to introduce it to the boys.  Things have to be more deliberate, more planned, more measured, and more thought through.  

It's Autism Awareness month and I have to be more aware of Autism.