some good things

Basketball season wears me out. Kate plays on the JV team and Bill coaches a 5th grade girls' team. I encouraged him to take on the coaching job because I know he really loves doing it. But those two teams combined take Bill and Kate out of the house just about every evening. We both work outside of the home all day long. My point here is that it's cold and dreary and the holidays are over and the two people closest to my conversation level are gone most of the time. And by the time they get home at 9 pm, all hyper from their practice or game, I'm ready to go to bed because I've been "snuggling" in Henry's dark room for 1/2 an hour.

So it's easy to start feeling negative. I have plenty of negative stuff I want to share with anyone who might read my blog, but I thought I'd try to focus on some positive things today. So, with apologies to Martha Stewart, here are some "good things":

1. Henry's swimming lesson yesterday. He has been taking lessons at Easter Seals since the summer of 2004, and I love to see his progress. It's not measured in leaps and bounds- he's no Charlie Fisher. But he runs over to the steps, hustles into the pool, greets his teacher with enthusiasm, and flounders around in the water- unafraid of going under, getting water in his nose, wearing goggles... If you had told me any of this a year and a half ago, I would scarcely have believed it. And yesterday, something new: he started planning what he wanted to say to his swim instructor! "I had a nice Christmas." He said, as we walked in from the parking lot. I deciphered that this must be what they talked about last time. So I suggested that this time he could tell her that he got his picture taken last week. Sure enough, I hear him in the pool talking about the mall and the Disney Store. Then he saw another instructor and shouted "there's Mr. Chris!" several times until we all acknowledged it and Mr. Chris said hello to him. Once Henry's lesson was over, he ran over to me and said "I had a great swimming lesson. I jumped off the edge. I swam under the water. I slided like Superman." (This is a thing they talk about, I guess to get him to stretch his arms and legs out straight?)

He said all those sentences using "I" spontaneously. And he almost sounded like an NT 6-year-old, babbling excitedly to his mom.

As if that weren't enough, then he started cheering for the kid who's lesson was after his! "Great swimming (kid's name)!"

2. One icy morning last week, traffic was really slow. But a really good song came on the radio (Matthew Sweet- "Girlfriend") and I took a sip of my decaf latte (I've recently had to give up caffeine because I was having heart palpitations- that's the saddest news of all), and I thought how good it tasted, even though it was decaf, and how much I was enjoying this drive, even though most people probably weren't.

3. Remember I was pondering getting a reptile pet of some kind? Well I mentioned it to a friend, and she said that she had two turtles that we could have!! So the turtles moved in yesterday, and they are so fun to watch! They live in an aquarium with a little "dock" that they can climb up onto, and they eat pellets of food you can buy at the grocery store. Very low maintenance and everything was free except that I needed to buy the food. I will get a picture up soon.

4. One night last week when we arrived home after picking Kate up from practice, we noticed that the stars were out. So the four of us stood in the driveway for a minute, looking at the stars. I started singing "twinkle twinkle" and Kate joined in with me.

5. Saturday morning, Henry and I were having our "it's Saturday." "That's right, it's Saturday" conversation. "It's not a school day." "No, it's the weekend. We all get to stay home together. Except poor daddy had to work this morning."

Henry said "don't cry daddy, you'll be fine."

6. Last week Henry's teacher wrote "Another wonderful day! Henry shared his book at lunch w/ another student (who is not even in our class). The aggression towards peers has really diminished as well. I think we will be ready to talk about some inclusion at our next conference."

I'm sure there are more, but I've neglected my sons in front of a DVD for long enough.

Some of my fellow bloggers have kids who are not verbal, or who are aggressive, or who scream. A lot. Or who are not quite potty-trained yet. Our family has been there- at age 3, 4, 5, and some of those struggles are on-going. But I just want to say that you and your children will move past this point. You will have a conversation. (S)he will stop having accidents. (S)he will start using words instead of screaming or hurting someone. You know that already, but I am just re-affirming it.

It's all good.

is this a stim?

It's 6 am, and Henry has been awake for over an hour. I find this really frustrating- every other day of the week, I have to drag him out of bed for school. But every once in awhile, I'm not sure what makes him wake up so early. He lies in bed laughing and making noises- imagining a scene from one of his favorite movies probably. Since he and Thomas share a room, I don't want to just leave him in there to wake his brother up too.

He asked to come downstairs. We have an extra room in the basement (I hesitate to call it "finished" But it's more finished than the rest of the basement) where the extra tv is, with the vcr attached, and he said he wanted to watch a movie. But now that we're down here, he is just watching The Disney Channel. Actually, now that it's 6, I can turn on everyone's favorite: Noggin.

The computer is in another little "finished" corner of the basement- so here I am.

Reading some of your blogs has raised some questions in my mind about self-stimulating behaviors- how to identify them and when to try to stop them. We have several little stockpiles of things that Henry likes to look at that I have attempted to hide around the house: He has 2 Power Ranger trick-or-treat bags full of various Power Ranger stuff, such as coloring book pages, pictures printed off of the internet, packaging for action figures, stickers, even old Toys R Us ads featuring Power Rangers, and handmade puzzles that various therapists have made for him because every week he kept asking for a "Power Ranger puzzle" and those seem to be hard to find.

I also have stashes of the "papers" that come in DVD boxes, giving further description of the contents of the DVD or advertising other movies. Another type of "paper" that Henry likes to look at are the ones you get in the mail, advertising for the Disney movie club. They show dozens of tiny little pictures of Disney movies. (Eileen, my son loves paper too!)

As I am describing all these things and realizing how strange it must sound to others, I realize that this is all clearly "stimming" stuff. What should I do about it? Up until now I have kept everything that Henry showed interest in. Because, as we all know, our kids don't show much interest in TOYS. I have always latched on to anything that he latched on to.

I put the Power Ranger stuff away for weeks at a time, but then something will make him think about it, or he'll spot the bags on a shelf in the basement and ask for them, and I give them to him, to spread out all over the floor and admire for a couple days. He does hum and dance around when he's doing that, but he also exhibits those behaviors when he's doing a puzzle or watching a show that he really likes. Some of his "stimmy" behaviors seem to be his way of showing pleasure, and his preschool teachers and I decided that we didn't need to try to stop those behaviors unless they were inhibiting another activity. (For example, during speech therapy they would ask him to have "quiet hands and feet" to help him focus on the work he was doing.)

His current teachers play off of his interests- his rewards for a good day are little laminated pictures of Power Rangers or other characters from the weird shows on Jetix. And I keep all of those.

Should I throw away all of this stuff? I welcome any and all opinions on this topic. Sometimes I worry that I am doing harm to Henry, rather than good. I start to question whether to encourage things he enjoys, no matter how odd they may be, or would I be doing him a favor, "freeing him" from the stim, if I got rid of the temptation?

the photo

I hate to do this because my mom reads this, and now she won't be surprised by her valentine! But everyone else will be. Here is the one photo we got of the three kids. Henry is kind of looking down, but this is actually a really accurate representation of him when he's laughing, so in that way it's a good picture.

The photographer was confused by our family (as many people are). Kate has always looked older than she is (she'll be 16 in May) and I have always looked younger than I am. So it's not usually clear that I am the mom of these three kids. Until we go to the Disney Store, that is, and Kate asks me to buy her a stuffed Baloo bear!

the mall

So- we survived the picture outing. I talked to Henry about it for several days- "Monday there's no school, and we're going to go to the mall and get your picture taken." Then Monday morning I dropped the bomb about the Disney Store. "If you do a good job at the picture place, then we can go to a store that's full of Disney stuff."

("Doing a good job" is kind of a vague instruction, but I didn't want to be too specific. If I said "you need to let the photographer take your picture 5 times" or something like that, then we'd have to count how many were snapped, etc. And I wanted to give him an expectation that was realistic- so we didn't have to run screaming from the mall. I told him he needed to be a good listener and cooperate.)

We had to discuss that for a little while. "You don't want to go to the picture place! You want to go to the Disney Store first, then go to the picture place! You like to go to the JC Penney picture place." That one surprised me- that he knew the name of the last place we had a family picture taken (in November of '04) and it made me laugh that he was saying he liked it, since that (like every other attempt at photo-taking we've ever endured) was a miserable experience.

Henry doesn't do well at photo studios. The silly things that the photographers do, in an attempt to make kids laugh, really freak Henry out. Those places are usually crowded and hot and full of stressed-out parents and crying kids. And this one was located right in the middle of the mall.

But I wanted to get Tommy's 2-year picture taken. I have totally dropped the ball with him as far as documenting his life in professional photos. And I had this fantasy of the boys wearing their matching maroon turtlenecks and Kate wearing her pink sweater, and we could mail them out for valentines.

I think I must be the only mom in America who doesn't take her kids to the mall. I honestly don't think I've ever taken either one of the boys to the mall in their lifetimes. It just doesn't sound fun to me. I think of shopping at the mall as an activity one should do just with other grownups. So, anyway, Henry and Thomas were both pretty excited about the mall. (Except Tommy kept calling it "the map" as a reference to Dora the Explorer, I guess.)

The photographer had this feather duster-type thing in his hand, and would go "aah, aah, aah, UGH!" and bonk himself, or me, in the face with it. That made the kids laugh the first couple times, but then it was too much for Henry. The photographer would say "aah..." and Henry would clamp his hands over his ears and yell "NOOO!" That doesn't make for a real attractive photo. You know how most families have several different poses to choose from? We just had one decent shot. Oh well, it makes my decision easier. Thomas didn't really pose very well for his individual pictures either. After we got a couple taken, he just started running for the door. Over and over. So we ended the session. I got a few good pictures and will try to scan them and post them here unless that's hugely illegal?

Things went better at the Disney Store. I forgot that Power Rangers are a Disney thing now- so Henry went straight for the Power Ranger stuff. The woman at the checkout was really nice and put the Power Ranger items in a separate bag for Henry to carry. He was excited about having his own bag! I told her that he has an Autism Spectrum Disorder and was really interested in Disney things. I was pleasantly surprised because (instead of having that uneasy look that some people get when you tell them) she said "oh, really? What school district do you live in? I have a friend whose daughter is on the spectrum and she really likes Disney stuff too. He's doing a great job." That little conversation made me feel very good for some reason.

And another "maybe I'm autistic too" experience- Tommy and I were playing outside last night. He was having fun, but I was kind of losing interest in throwing a ball around. Then Henry wanted to come out and join us, which is exciting, as he usually isn't interested in being outside. And he wanted to pick up sticks and pine cones. Cleaning up the yard. Now that seems like a worthwhile reason to be outside. I don't know, I could just really relate to picking things up and putting them in a yard waste bag. I must be old and losing my imagination. Or maybe I'm autistic too :-)

progress

Friday Henry's teacher wrote this in his notebook (it sounds kind of goofy when I try to leave out other kids' names):

"Henry scratched (another child) today, but when I brought it to his attention, he got up, walked over to (him) and said 'I'm sorry (kid's name).' He did this completely independently, which I thought was great. . . I think Henry is making nice improvements socially!!"

I wrote back that we have seen some nice improvements at home also. Friday night Bill was blowing bubbles for the boys, and they were getting a little silly. Henry jumped on Bill, spilling the bubbles. Bill shouted "NO"- which usually would send Henry into a fit of screaming. I know it sounds silly- like he's just spoiled rotten, but Henry really gets upset if you tell him "no". It's like you have to find another way to get your negative answer across. And especially if you say it in an angry voice- forget about it. Anyway, Bill quickly explained why he had yelled. I was just happy that Henry didn't get upset.

Then, several minutes later and without any prompting, Henry went over to Bill and said "I'm sorry daddy. I'm sorry that I spilled the bubbles."!!!!!!

I also had a minor victory against the stim this weekend. At the library Henry wanted to borrow 2 copies of the Sleeping Beauty video. He has done this before and I frankly never thought much about it. But I am trying to be more conscious of the stims, and decided I would take a stand this time. (Besides the fact that some other child might want to check out the other copy.) I told him he could only get one of the Sleeping Beauty videos, and that they were both the same. "They are not both the same! The same is gone!" He immediately got the loud and panicked my-house-is-on-fire voice. And my resolve wavered. It was causing him such anxiety... But I stuck to my guns, if only so that the librarians wouldn't think that I am a huge pushover of a mom (or, I should say, so they wouldn't know that I am a huge pushover of a mom.)

But, you know what? He didn't have a meltdown. I didn't have to carry him screaming from the library. He was disappointed, but he went along (grumpily). When we checked out our books, I tried to explain his mood to that librarian by saying "we had a little argument downstairs when he wanted to check out 2 copies of Sleeping Beauty." Well, Henry caught hold of that statement, and when we were walking to the car, he said "we had an argument" in kind of a sad way. So I used that as an opportunity to say "yes, we did. But we still love each other, right?" "Having an argument" is a new concept for Henry, I think. Kind of a grown-up one.

Tonight I was the old pushover mom that he's used to. At the grocery store we bought donuts, ice cream, BBQ chips, and the Disney Princess Christmas DVD!

Tomorrow I am getting the kids' picture taken at the mall- wish me luck... I am kind of thinking that after the picture we can visit the Disney store. Do you think that's a good idea or bad?

First, a few random thoughts prompted by Kristina's comment on my last post:

--Someone called the police on your husband? How horrifying! I guess that's another good reason to have the Autism Awareness ribbon on your car. Mine is on the refrigerator rather than the van- I need to get it out there so other moms won't stare at me at the playground.

--"Because our kids suffer and struggle and people don't rally round, like they do when you hear about a child with leukemia or some 'rare disease'"

It's really inappropriate for me to start comparing disabilities. But I do feel that ASD kids and their parents face an uphill struggle because Autism is still so misunderstood. When we were going through the long, painful process of having Henry diagnosed, I often thought if my child was blind, the doctors would know right away. We would all know right away. His disability would be easily identified, and everyone would know what to do next. There wouldn't be all this "is he or isn't he?" We would know what our options were.

The same analogy still holds some water for me- if my son was blind, yes, he would have a disability. But no one would assume he wasn't smart. People would know how to relate to him. And I would just tell people when they first asked about him. It would just be part of what he is. It would not diminish what he is.

And I would not be worrying about how to cure him, but rather how to help him make his way in the world.

I don't really know what my point is here. Certainly not that I wish my child was blind! Maybe just that I need to think of his autism in that way, and encourage others to think of it that way too. It means he can't do everything that other kids can, but he can live as just a fulfilled life as anyone else.

And, if my child was blind (or insert many other disabilities here), I probably wouldn't be hell-bent on making him play at the playground, would I? Learn a lesson here, mommy.

Ok, on to a different subject. Here is a picture of my beautiful boys sharing a double stroller at the zoo a couple weeks ago:

Henry makes that dumb face now, almost every time I take his picture. He's saying "CHEEESE".

In all my belly-aching about our weekend (no pun intended), I left out a sweet story. I felt sick to my stomach all day Saturday. Henry was being so nice and kept kind of petting my stomach and saying "you're making my tummy feel better." Then, on Sunday morning, he remembered that I had been feeling sick, and said "I feel better!" When I told him that, yes, I did feel better, he said "you made me feel better. You took me to (pause pause) you were a doctor and helped me feel better!" Can you believe he came up with that himself?? (Pronouns all backwards as usual, but still...)

(Christmas at Grandma & Grandpa's 2005)

I think I set myself up for a letdown. I've been feeling really good about everything lately: the holidays went very well, and reflecting back on the past year made me realize how far Henry had come in 2005. Last week I sent e-mails to some of his former teachers and therapists, gushing about all the things Henry does (and doesn't do) now, thanking them for all their help in the past. I posted on Oliver's mom's site how I'm moving along on the road paved with acceptance.

This has happened before. I get in my little "autism bubble" where everything is wonderful. Henry's teachers think he's doing great, my friends and family are all cheering him on, I'm thinking that the sky's the limit...

And then I notice the real life of "normal" 6-year-olds. And I'm like, "oh yeah, autism sucks." Let me say up front that I realize I'm being very negative here. This is one of those venting posts...

Sunday morning Bill, Kate and Tommy all went to church. (I will post about the church issue another time.) Henry wanted to watch a movie, and I tried to get a few things done around the house. He kept requesting that I sit with him, which was sweet. But every time I snuggled up next to him on the couch, he would say "I want to go to the Grandview library. I want to go to the Grandview library. I want to go to the Grandview library. I want to go to the Grandview library. I want to go to the Grandview library." (Grandview is another suburb, just on the other side of downtown Columbus. It's where the eye doctor is, where L's house is, close to work, and we used to live there, when Henry was born. They have a very nice library.) We had already been to our local library the night before. But I told Henry we might be able to go later that afternoon, when we took Kate somewhere.

Here's where the autism sucks thing begins. 5 minutes later he asks me to sit with him, and then begins again "I want to go to the Grandview library..." you get the idea. I believe most typical 6-year-olds will register that they can do something LATER, and maybe stop talking about it for the 5 hours in-between. I don't know, maybe not.

We did finally go to the other library. I know that, in theory, a child wanting to go to the library is a good thing. But what if said child is autistic, and simply wants to perseverate on a few favorite obsessions at the library? He checked out 5 Power Rangers DVDs. He will most likely not watch them, but will just arrange them on the floor and look at them. Then he checked out 2 Nintendo magazines and 3 Disney magazines. He will look through them and comment on TV shows, movies, characters that he recognizes. (I usually also check out a couple books and read them to Henry while he eats or before a preferred book at bedtime. I do try to get in some non-Disney material.)

A Brownie troop was meeting at the library, and while Henry was looking through the magazines I was watching some of the girls. At first I was remembering when Kate was that age, and in Brownies, and I was feeling a little sentimental. Then I started wondering if I knew any of these girls from our time living in Grandview. Then, with a start, I realized that these girls were Henry's age. For some reason, that kind of sent me reeling. Again, the autism bubble thing. I know that Henry is doing great, by Henry standards. But then I look at these little social girls, being silly and reading to each other from library books, and I think that I can never imagine Henry interacting with other kids his age like that. And it makes me sad.

When the library closed, we stopped at a playground nearby. As we drove up, Henry started screaming "you don't want to go to this playground!" It's hard to describe the anxiety in his voice here- maybe the way your voice would sound if you were screaming "somebody help me my house is on fire!" He brought his magazines with him, the whole time shouting that he doesn't want to play on the playground, he wants to sit at this table and look at these magazines!

So I run out on the playground, trying to get him to follow me. He does, reluctantly. Goes down one double slide with me and then heads back to the picnic table. I try to grab him and carry him over to the swings, him protesting the whole time. This is when I noticed a mom and her toddler daughter, pushing a doll in a stroller. They are stopped, looking at us. I realized with another sinking feeling that the mom probably thought I was abusing my child in some way, or kidnapping him. What the hell?

In any other world but Autismland, a mom can take her son to the playground without him acting like he's being tortured. And, I know not to compare, but... I brought Tommy here a couple months ago and we had a ball.

We got back in the van after exactly 7 minutes at the playground, and drove to Target. How long have I been Henry's mom??!! Why do I forget that he has certain things that he wants to look at in Target, and none of them are in the cleaning supplies aisle, or the bedding aisle, where I needed to go.

Imagine all of these said with the house-on-fire voice, and repeated 10 times in a row:
"I want to look at the Power Ranger shirts!"
"I want to look at the coloring books!"
"You want to look at these things!"
"You want this Spiderman puzzle!"
"You want TWO things!"

Yes, his language has come far. A year or two ago he would just have been wailing and pointing (with his whole hand, not with a finger). But sometimes I feel like we are still doing the same old stuff, fighting the same old battles. He has more words to use, but I don't always feel like he is hearing and understanding my words.

It wasn't a bad weekend. In fact, Henry probably thought it was a great weekend. He got to go to two libraries and got a puzzle and a sticker book at Target.

But I ended up feeling sad.

postscript to #5

Yesterday Henry's teacher wrote:

"What a great day for Henry! He was wonderful, playing 'follow the leader' with (2 other boys in his class).

We are also going to work on reading now, though Henry actually seems to read better than most kindergartners!"

BIG SMILE!

10 things about Henry

(This picture is almost a year old, but I like it. At the time, it was really something just to capture these two interacting at all. It is getting better now.)

Hmmmm. This will be a bit of a challenge, as I don't want to repeat things that you already know, like "Henry likes puzzles".

1. His middle name is Davies, which is also his father's middle name, his grandfather's middle name, and was his great-grandfather's middle name.

We mostly just picked the name Henry because we liked it, although my grandmother did have a brother named Henry.

2. Henry never really had a nickname until Thomas started calling him "bubba". That has kind of stuck with us now.

3. Henry loves to eat fruit. He hates to eat vegetables. He will eat a pound of grapes but will gag if you force him to eat one cube of carrot from the mixed vegetables.

He also likes to eat sausage links, pasta with tomato sauce, cereal with milk (but with his fingers- not with a spoon. Ugh.) He will not drink milk.

4. When he was small Henry used to like to watch the weather radar on tv.

5. Henry has always loved books. He has always loved to be read to and I just can hardly wait until he can read. I feel that day approaching and I know it will open a whole new world for him.

6. He has never had a successful haircut by a professional person. I (who have no skill whatsoever) have always cut his hair in the bathtub. Luckily he has those messy waves which hide my mistakes.

7. Henry likes to "help" me bake. He gets a chair to stand on and likes to talk about the recipe. Sometimes he'll stir a little.

8. Some of you have also said this about your children- Henry has a way of charming people and making them fall in love with him. It's very interesting that these autistic kids, who can be socially inept and unaware of others' feelings, have their own charm that is so irresistible.

9. At the zoo last week, Henry decided his new favorite animals are the reptiles. (Before that it was the "sea creatures".) We visited the reptile house once and then once more before we left. We stayed for the longest time, watching those snakes that don't really do much. I'm curious about why he found them so intriguing.

I had been wanting to set up an aquarium, but now I'm wondering if we should get a lizard or something. Are there some types that eat "lizard food"? Because I definitely don't want to have to keep crickets or mice in the house...

10. At age 9 mos., Henry tested allergic to cats and milk. When we had him tested again last spring, he tested allergic to NOTHING. And let me tell you, the testing process (holding him down to have his back pricked over and over) was not pleasant. I guess the resulting information was worth it.

(#25) The Henry Chronicles, Volume 4

Some of you seem to be reviewing 2005, so I thought it was a good time to write my final Henry Chronicles installment, since I left off about this time last year, when Henry was really struggling at preschool/daycare. We found another spot for him, in a small, special-needs preschool class that just met in the afternoons. My friend, L, agreed to take him in the mornings and the school transportation service would transport him to the class and back home. We were all (teachers, administrators and parents) really hopeful that this small class with experienced teachers would make a big difference for Henry.

It didn't. He had the few-week honeymoon period where everything was great and the teachers acted like they wondered what all the fuss was about. Then he started pinching, scratching, screaming, kicking, knocking over chairs, etc, all over again. His teacher kept calling me at home, asking me if I had any suggestions for her. I was like "if I knew how to make him stop acting this way, I would have told the teachers at his old school. You're the one trained in special education." Of course, that's just what I was thinking. I didn't say it, I just kept trying to think of suggestions for them.

Around the same time he switched schools (February), we finally got our PDD diagnosis. The psychiatrist basically asked me if I wanted him to give the diagnosis or not! Like I would want my son to continue struggling in regular classrooms, being treated like the "bad" kid? Why did he approach it that way? I guess some parents don't want their child labeled. But by that point I was welcoming a label, if it would help Henry's teachers and everyone else know how to relate to him. We initially discussed placing Henry in the regular kindergarten class at our neighborhood school, with an aide. But the more trouble he was having as the preschool year wound to a close, the school district started balking at that idea.

He spent the summer at the Easter Seals program, which went pretty well, but he was still showing a lot of aggressive behavior, and refusing to cooperate with a lot of classroom activities.

We ended up getting a spot in a STACK (structured teaching for autistic and communication-delayed kids) classroom in another school district about a 20-minute drive away. I was slightly disappointed that Henry wouldn't be attending the neighborhood school, but this arrangement is actually much better because it's a full-day program. In our school district he would have attended a half-day kindergarten class and then been in the Y program the rest of the day. That would surely have been an over-stimulating disaster.

I started off the school year trying to give lots of suggestions, as that's what all his other teachers had seemed to want. The others had all found Henry to be a completely unpredictable mystery. Very quickly I realized that these STACK teachers didn't need my suggestions. They were totally on top of everything. At the first IEP meeting this fall, they told me they had Henry all figured out. Wow. What a great feeling.

That doesn't mean he doesn't have "rough" days anymore. But they are more isolated incidents, rather than constant behavior problems. His language has vastly improved- he's using "I" appropriately about half the time now, I'd say. He will greet people and answer a few questions without prompting. He just gets up and goes to the bathroom now when he needs to. (A year ago we had to constantly check on him and ask if he needed to go.) He is cordial to his brother about half the time now. And when he is frustrated, he is using words rather than screaming or pinching, etc.

And that picture at the top-- that's Henry playing with some toys he picked out at Target. He was making the dragons fly. I overheard him saying "hi little dragon" which, as far as I know, isn't a script.

We change our expectations. At the basketball game Thursday night, 2 older boys ran over to say "hi" to Henry as soon as we walked in. He said "hi" dutifully, then didn't give them another glance all night. He's far from a typical kid. But he enjoyed watching the game and we stayed to the end- I consider that a great night, in Autismland. (Kristina, you need to trademark that word!)

I'm resistant to draw conclusions. Is Henry's school placement making all the difference? Is he just older and so physically, emotionally, mentally ready to make some strides? Was the bad preschool experience in the spring inevitable after a REALLY bad situation, and they just "broke him in" for the current class? I guess time may tell.

Our journey with Henry so far has surely had some low points- some times when I felt really in the dark and didn't have any idea what to do next. But we have been so blessed with friends and educators all along the way who have given good advice and, if they weren't sure what advice to give, they gave us moral support and gave Henry unconditional love. I wish, wish, wish, I had known some of you 4 years ago- you could have held my hand and shed a little light on the confusion. Maybe I would have shed a few fewer tears.

Well, enough with the "what ifs". Here's to 2006!

Hi friends. I've missed you! Been checking some of your sites when I get a minute, but I haven't seemed to have enough minutes in a row to write anything myself. Today I took the boys to their sitter and Kate and I are going to do some shopping, but she's at basketball practice and I have AN HOUR ALONE IN THE HOUSE. Can you feel my excitement?! And, like a geek, I'm at the computer. I am enjoying this bit of time to myself. I'm listening to the CD Bill got me for Christmas: Hope and Desire by Susan Tedeschi. I wanted to tell you about my other Christmas gift: this necklace. My first piece of "autism jewelry". I actually prefer to think of it as "Henry jewelry" because it just makes me think of Henry- not of his autism. But maybe it will also raise some awareness and start some conversations when I wear it.

The past week has exceeded all my expectations. Henry has behaved so well- using lots of words and not so much screaming, and also playing with some toys. We had Christmas at Grandma & Grandpa's house, then again at home the next day when Kate came home from her mom's house. We visited the zoo one day and last night went to a college basketball game- Henry was pretty-much-perfect on all occasions. I know that he is over-stimulated and the lack of structure and lack of school are getting to him. When we are just at home together he has been tormenting his brother a bit and doing more screaming and arguing. But I am usually able to have him play quietly in his room for awhile, and that helps.

I will post some pictures soon and also finish my "Henry Chronicles". For some reason the past year seems like it will be hardest to sum up. Maybe because I am afraid to draw any conclusions.

Wishing you all a peaceful 2006.

The Henry Chronicles, Volume 3

(Sorry that this is sooo long. But it's very helpful to me to get it all down, even if none of you want to wade through all of it!)

Let's see, I left off around December, 2002, when Henry was 3 1/2. He was evaluated by the school district's speech and occupational therapists, and determined to be a "preschooler with a disability." I can still remember how that meeting made me feel. My husband and I sat at a table of experts who gently tried to tell me all the things that were "wrong" with my child. (That's how it felt to me at the time. Now I'm a veteran of these meetings and I know that we are all there with the goal of helping Henry achieve the most out of his education.)

I think that was the day my heart broke a little. That was the day I first realized that my son might not be everything I hoped for him to be. He might not be president. He might not be the football captain and all those dumb ambitions you have for your child before you realize what's really important. Most of all, it made me realize, like a slap in the face, that he wasn't "perfect." Now, you can all tell me that he is perfect, and I wouldn't argue with you! But let's just say that was a bad day. And no one had even mentioned autism. Instead of going back to work, I went back home and crawled into Henry's bed and cried. Is that a pitiful image or what?!

So Henry qualified for special services. But I work full time and he needed full-time care as well. This was to prove an obstacle for the next 2 years.

I work at a large university, which has a child care center with a waiting list a mile long. A friend with a child attending the center told me that she thought they offered special needs services there. (Thank God for all the suggestions of friends, or I don't know where I would be now.) I was thrilled to find out that he could attend the center full time, receiving special needs services, and at a reduced rate, as my school district would pay a portion of his education. He started preschool there in the fall of 2003- when he turned 4 years old.

Henry did well at preschool that year- I was amazed with how he adapted to the routine and the independence required- lining up to go outside, scraping his plate after lunch, going potty independently, etc. He loved working with his therapists and with specific teachers. He's always been very responsive to one-on-one stuff with an adult. Not so crazy about all the other kids. The services provided were on an "itinerant" basis: he was in a room full of typical kids, pulled out for services once or twice a day for an hour or so.

That summer (because he wouldn't receive school-based services in the summer) he attended a program at Easter Seals. That's where he started taking swimming lessons. He seemed to do really well there- in a class with only "disabled" children of various kinds (there were blind children and autistic children and children in wheelchairs, etc.), and teachers who were trained to work with special needs kids.
At the recommendation of his teachers and therapists, I pursued an evaluation at the autism clinic in our Children's Hospital. Of course, it took months to get an appointment.
Fall of 2004 was rough. Henry went back to preschool and started off well, but his "behaviors" quickly escalated and overpowered any other learning that might have been taking place. He was very aggressive toward teachers and other children: knocking over chairs, kicking, pinching and scratching. I believe he was trying to communicate. These behaviors were aggressive, but not violent, if you see the differentiation I'm making. They were very deliberate- done while looking at an adult, watching for a reaction.
The special needs teachers were willing to work with it, but that wasn't good enough. As I said above, they were only working with Henry an hour or so a day. The rest of the time he was in this classroom where the teachers didn't want to or didn't know how to work with him. They mostly let him work on the computer all the time, because it made him happy and it kept him away from the other kids.
There were a few days in November of '04 when I brought Henry to work with me because I was so tired of picking him up and hearing "He had another really bad day today."
Believe it or not, at this same time I was meeting with the doctors at the autism clinic and hearing "we don't think he's autistic." It's true. So his teachers are acting like he's unteachable and they're going to kick him out of daycare/preschool, but the "experts" are saying he's not autistic. It was a really low point for me.
Finally, during one evaluation, Henry threw such a fit. I was terrified that they would just tell us to leave and come back in a month, dragging the whole process out even more. I was watching through a mirror as Henry threw toys around the room and scratched the psychiatrist's face!
Little did I know that that interaction would finally show the doctor Henry's true colors. His "non-compliance" (that term made me laugh out loud when the doctor used it) was an indicator of autism, along with some of his other traits.
Reading about all of my blogging friends' children, I don't know how a doctor could NOT think Henry was on the autism spectrum. But, I can't be bitter- just have to move on.
I'll save the rest for another installment.

The Henry Chronicles, Volume 2

My last post is doing just what I hoped it would: starting a dialogue. Bill and I have often wondered about Henry's birth and subsequent problems, and their relationship with autism. Which came first- was he born with autism and that triggered some other difficulties? Did his difficulty breathing cause (for lack of a better term) brain damage of some kind that triggered the autism? Or are all these things just unrelated coincidences that make Henry who he is? And does it matter?

Kristina always says things so perfectly, and as she commented, if one thinks about this too much, "it's an ocean of regret". So I often push these thoughts away. Just as many parents may agonize in hindsight over the choice to vaccinate their child, fearing afterward that it "caused" that child's autism, I can't let myself think too much about his birth. Was it the herbal tea I drank during pregnancy to help me sleep? Did it contain some kind of dangerous herb? Should I have demanded to start pushing before my doctor arrived? Was it because I swam in the lake that summer? That last one may sound ridiculous, but who knows? We start to question everything. Unlike many of the children I read about, who seemed to develop normally until a turning point around a birthday and/or vaccination, my Henry was always on the small, slow end of every chart. I don't see a correlation with vaccinations in his case.

So I welcome you to Henry's second year. He was back in the 3rd percentile for his age, and we thought that with his allergies conquered, we'd have smooth sailing ahead. He had started sitting up around 8 months, and began crawling at 13 months. Walking came at 18 months. All of these, according to our pediatrician, well within the normal range and not surprising considering his rough first year. He was just catching up.

He did have a fondness for throwing his plastic stacking cups around on the kitchen floor and chasing them. I didn't really think of it as "spinning" them. It made him laugh and smile- I thought it was cute.

When he was 1 1/2-2 1/2, we would take lots of walks which involved looking at cars, both moving and parked. I found this kind of boring, but not alarming. I had friends whose children obsessed over rocks they found, or taking toys apart and removing the batteries. Kids just have weird habits and interests, right?

Around age 2 1/2, our beloved friend and child care provider, "L", dropped the bombshell. One day when I arrived to pick Henry up, she said "I want to talk to you about something..." She said she thought Henry might be autistic. She had printed out some information from a medical website (I forget which one). I was defensive and argued with her. Believe it or not, I didn't cry. (You may have picked up on the fact that I'm quite a crier.) Not until I got in the car anyway. I called my mom for reassurance and she provided it. Then I called the pediatrician's office and made an appointment.

When we showed up for the appointment, Henry cried and clung to me. "An autistic child wouldn't do that" said our doctor. I feel like that was in the dark ages of autism awareness, but it was less than 4 years ago.

I went ahead and scheduled a speech and hearing evaluation for Henry, because he was clearly delayed in that area. By the time they could see us, he had celebrated his third birthday.

I did cry on his birthday, out of happiness, because we got him some letter and number flashcards for his birthday, and he could easily name all of them. "There's nothing wrong with him," I thought. "He's so smart." When the speech experts asked me how many words he could say, I truthfully answered that he knew hundreds. I later realized that he knew hundreds of nouns. Names for things. He didn't put any of them together with any other words to make sentences. And while we could understand all these words he said, no one else could.

The speech center referred us to an ENT, who recommended tubes and removal of Henry's adenoids. I remember the ENT saying something like "I don't think that's all that is going on with him, but it will be a good start." Did he think Henry was autistic? I didn't ask- probably didn't really want to know.

So we had the surgery and started speech therapy once a week. I also had Henry evaluated by our school district, to see what services he might be eligible for.

To be continued...

The Henry Chronicles, volume 1

Henry was born September 1, 1999, after an uneventful pregnancy. My blood pressure was up a little toward the end, but it was summertime and my doctor just told me to lie down for 20 minutes after work every day. He was born 2 weeks early, which was not considered premature.

My coworkers had a baby shower for me the evening of August 31. I was having pains the whole time, but just thought they were false labor. I drank some tea and tried to go to sleep, but my water broke around midnight and we were off to the hospital. Kate (then 9) came right along and watched the whole thing. (Yikes!) Things moved faster than anyone expected, and we had to wait for my doctor to arrive before I could start pushing. I didn't have any pain medication, and he was born at 4:30 am. The whole thing seemed, well, not pleasant, but easier than I had expected. Little did I know that much of his future would seem, well, harder than I had expected!

Henry was not breathing well when he was born. They briefly allowed me to say hello to him and then whisked him off. I don't remember how much they explained to me. I think I was in such a fog of "yippee, I just had a baby" that I didn't realize something was wrong. Maybe they always take your baby away immediately. How should I know?

He stayed in the NICU for 18 days! Yes mommies, 18 torturous days, considering they couldn't really seem to put a finger on what was wrong. He just wasn't breathing well- his oxygen intake wasn't good- his respiration was very rapid. (This is all from my memory. I really need to ask for a copy of his hospital records. I think I remember reading that one of you did that recently.) He was in the NICU and was like twice the size of most of the other babies in there!

I was faithfully pumping breastmilk and bringing it to the hospital with me. Off work for "maternity leave" but not taking care of a baby. Sitting in the hospital rocking my baby, talking to the nurses. Looking back it kind of turns my stomach to remember. God, that was awful. It was so awful but I couldn't even appreciate how awful it was. You know when you first have a baby you're kind of in a daze, trying to figure out how your life has changed? So mine had just changed to this- now I go to the hospital every day.

Finally, he came home on September 18th. Ahhhh, bliss. Now I could take him on walks and read him books and lie awake watching him sleep. We had a few really good months before he started getting sick- ear infections, bronchiolitis, this chronic cough that wouldn't go away. We tried an inhaler (with an infant??!!) and various antibiotics and asthma-type medicines. He didn't gain any weight between his 6 and 9-month checkups.
A friend suggested that I take him to see her daughter's allergist. THANK GOD for that suggestion. The allergist took one look at him and said that he looked "like an allergic child." (Henry had spots of eczema on his head various areas of his body at this time- poor little guy.) They ran a set of allergy tests which came back allergic to cats (we had one) and MILK. He had been drinking milk-based formula ever since he was a month old! (The breastfeeding thing totally didn't work, as they fed him from a bottle in the hospital.)

We switched to soy formula that day and sent the cat to grandma & grandpa's house that weekend. The coughing went away and Henry gained weight. He was back "on the charts" for his first birthday.
(Coming in Volume 2: enter autism)

More music, from the other boy

This was one of those times when Tommy did something totally typical that made my heart stop beating with the excitement of it.

I was driving him to L's house today (his babysitter, and Henry's before him) and Tommy was jabbering on and on. Suddenly I heard him say "not nice!" "Mitchell push David." I started listening harder and realized that he was telling me something that had happened the day before. "Mitchell push! Not nice! David fall down. David cry!"

Henry has never once recounted anything to me about his day. Not spontaneously, anyway. He will tell me "we went to the zoo" or something like that about a field trip. But never, never anything about interpersonal relationships- especially between 2 other children.

I said early on in this blogging adventure that it feels somewhat wrong to compare my kids, but this is my blog, and this is an issue that pops up in my life and is important to me to discuss. When Tommy does something new, that Henry never did because of his autism, it makes me celebrate that Tommy's doing it, and it also makes me grieve a little that Henry didn't do it, and maybe never will.

I believe this is different than just having 2 kids with different personalities. For example, having one child who likes to play with play dough, and one who doesn't. The child who doesn't isn't missing out on a huge chunk of the human experience because he doesn't play with play dough. But our autistic children are missing out because they cannot (or will not?) tell us about their day. This is what we do with people we care about- we share things. Verbally, usually.

(Don't even get me started on the tangent that Henry should be able to tell me about his day from a safety standpoint- what if he is being mistreated or picked on at school? And isn't telling me? I will not be able to sleep at night if I start thinking about that.)

So, this was an exciting morning for me, with a little bit of sadness thrown in for good measure.

PS- L said that Tommy didn't tell me that he also had a time out for pushing David down. Selective communication on his part!

The Christmas Card

Here is the Christmas card picture. I was able to snap 2 photos one night before the teenager ran out the door to a basketball game. This is the first picture. In the second, Bill had walked in the room and said something and so both boys are looking at him instead of the camera. So this has to be the one.

Oh, yeah, you may have noticed that I finally cut Henry's hair.

We had a busy but fun holiday weekend. We went to a basketball game (Henry and Tommy marched around when the band played), Henry helped me wrap presents and bake banana bread to give to his teachers, and we also played in the snow a little. Henry requested playing outside, which he doesn't usually do. He awkwardly made a snow angel, and then mostly asked me to do things- "you want me to throw another snowball at the tree!"

This has been a pattern throughout Henry's life. Rather than actually trying an activity himself, he wants you to do it, while he watches. For example, there was a brief time when he was 3 when he liked to paint and color. Somewhere along the line, he started asking us to draw a picture or write a word. That quickly evolved into us doing all the work while he watched. I think it has something to do with his coordination, and his frustration with not being able to do something "just right." He never wants to color now. I have been able to get him to work on connect-the-dots and mazes, but only if I "help him" (we both hold the pen). When I try to let go and get him to do it himself he quickly gets frustrated. I think he just doesn't have the strength in his hands, and that is something the OT is working on.

Yesterday in the snow I tried to get him to help me make snowballs, but it seemed that he could barely manage to scoop up a handful of snow. I think his gloves made the activity more cumbersome, and I need to get him some mittens. He can't get his fingers into gloves for the life of him, so I'm sure that inhibits his coordination. Tommy wears those "baby" mittens that just cover your whole hand. I wonder if they make them in a big enough size for Henry?

It's hard to watch him struggle with something that comes so easily to other children. I hope over time he will gain both coordination and the confidence to try something without being afraid of doing it "wrong".

One thing we didn't do this weekend (although it was requested frequently) was go to the library. It just didn't fit in to the schedule. I didn't do it consciously, but I ended up shaking up his expectations a little, something I talked about in my last post.

I can tell they have been working on pronouns a lot at school. This weekend he used "I" many times correctly, without being prompted. He said a few beautiful phrases like "Mommy, it's fun wrapping presents with you" and "I like making banana bread with you mommy." They still sound a little scripted, but they are music to my ears!

I know it's hard... every day

We have our first real snow on the ground, and the boys are excited. This morning I had to dig out the boots and snowpants. This picture was our Christmas card attempt 2 years ago (I was about 6 months pregnant with Tommy.) I don't think we actually mailed out cards that year- I don't know why, because this picture is pretty good. Anyway...

Charlie's mom talked a couple days ago about packing his lunch, and the "huge responsibility" of that action. This touches on one of my frustrations with being a mom of a special needs kid.

Some mommy tasks, like packing a lunch, just should not have so much riding on them. We tried having Henry buy lunch one day at school, but that didn't go well. His teacher said that she thinks he likes the comfort of bringing lunch from home. I'm happy to do that for him- that way I can be more confident that he'll actually eat.

So I have to include some of Henry's favorites in the Fantastic Four lunchbox, so he'll be sure to eat and have a productive and cooperative day. But I can't just brainlessly pack the same thing in his lunch every day, because then he'll grow to expect only the same things in his lunch and if I should run out of BBQ potato chips one day, and send a granola bar instead, he'll flip his lid.

I get worn out by walking the fine line between giving my child comfort and familiarity with his favorite things, and realizing too late that I have backed myself into a BBQ chip (or, at dinnertime, "pasta with tomato sauce") corner.

I end up questioning every routine. "Wait, did I play this CD for him last night when he went to bed? I'd better play a different one, or he'll get hooked on this one." One good thing is that because of various sports schedules, etc., we don't usually follow the same routine in the afternoons and evenings. Sometimes he goes to the gym with Bill while he works out, sometimes goes along to basketball practice, sometimes gets to hang out and watch a movie at home, but not every day. I guess that keeps things from getting too predictable for Henry.

One morning when he was protesting getting in the car to go to school, I said in a soothing voice "I know it's hard on Monday mornings." So now every morning when I'm buckling him in, he says (in an imitation of my "soothing" voice) "I know it's hard on (-insert name of day here-) mornings." It's funny and touching to me- I think Mondays are particularly hard sometimes. But I guess Henry thinks each day is just as hard as the last! Or maybe he's trying to comfort his frazzled mother. That's probably it!

10 random facts about me

Prompted by Irish. I'll try to think of something interesting:

1. I met my husband through my step-daughter. I worked at her daycare center when Bill was still married to his ex-wife. After they split up (and I didn't work there anymore) he asked my former boss for my phone number.

It's kind of cool the way it worked out- keeps me from wishing he hadn't been married before, because if he hadn't, I never would have met him- get it? Everything happens for a reason.

2. I like to eat ice cream out of the carton when my kids aren't around.

3. I majored in journalism in college (not creative writing, obviously, judging by the really creative name of my blog).

4. When something makes me laugh REALLY hard, I start crying. It's kind of a hysterical, out-of-control feeling, but I like it.

5. I am a Harry Potter fan. I read books 1-5 when I was pregnant with Tommy. Recently I was watching a special about movie #4 and Tommy got all excited and started saying "Harry Potter, Harry Potter mommy!" It kind of freaked me out, like maybe I brainwashed him when he was in utero.

6. I have 2 younger brothers. The older one recently moved from Chicago to Washington, DC and the youngest lives in Sydney, Australia. (Their lives are a lot more exciting than mine) :-)

7. Like Sal, I also admire Oprah. And Madonna and Hillary Clinton. But I'm not here for a debate...

8. Music I love: Van Morrison, U2, Sinead O'Conner (what is it with the Irish theme?), Nora Jones, Elvis Costello, Aretha Franklin. I guess this music reflects my age- I don't have much occasion to listen to AC/DC anymore. (But when I hear that, I still love it.)
At work I listen to a public radio station which plays all kinds of music from around the world, and lately in the car I've been listening to a "classic country" radio station.

9. In theory I like to walk and do yoga, but haven't done either very regularly (if at all) in almost 2 years, since Thomas was born.

10. I believe that being a parent is the most difficult thing I will ever do, but it is the thing that brings me the most joy in life. Nothing makes me sadder/angrier than parents who don't appreciate what they have.

Looong post about the weekend

Henry still seemed extra stimmy and needy and whiny this weekend, maybe still carryover from Thanksgiving.

Bill coaches a 5th grade girls basketball team, and they had practice Friday night at 5:30. When he has a practice like that, before I get home from work, he has been taking Henry with him. It's pretty cute because Henry just kind of hops and dances around at the edge of the gym. He's only there for 15 minutes or so of practice and then Tommy and I pick him up. Anyway, I've told you how Henry says "you miss me" a lot. Well all weekend he kept saying "I missed you while you were at basketball practice." (Like he wanted me to say that back to him- I missed him while he was at basketball practice.) I don't really get this, because he wasn't there that long. Maybe it makes him nervous when he's waiting for me to pick him up there, and he wants to confirm that I missed him???

Henry and I ran some errands Saturday afternoon. The trip started off well, but things slowly went downhill. I should have made these trips in reverse order but, as usual, I wasn't thinking far enough ahead.

Our first stop was the library- always Henry's favorite. Then we went to the grocery store, which was crowded and not-so-pleasant. In an effort to avoid some of the crowds, I inadvertently ducked down the TOY aisle! Ooops. Henry spotted a power ranger that he wanted, and I ended up buying it for him. Mostly because I didn't want him to throw a fit if I told him no, and didn't want to have to abandon the rest of our shopping. I know that this is Bad Parenting 101- giving in to your kid when he wants a toy at the store. But I rationalized with Bill later, and he seemed to agree-- Henry is not like most 6-year-olds. The things he usually asks for are fruit snacks or cereal because they have a Disney character on the box. He likes to go to the library every weekend- never asks to go to the toy store. And, as many of us have experienced with our ASD kids, he doesn't PLAY with many toys.

So, considering all those aspects, I thought it was ok to buy the power ranger. He spent a lot of time looking at the packaging, but he also seemed interested in the "guy" himself, so that makes me hopeful.

Then we went on to the craft store. I am not too crafty myself, but I get the bug at Christmastime. My daughter and I used to make ornaments or other gifts for family members when she was younger, and I am trying to continue the tradition with Henry, although it is more of a challenge. We have a big tub full of pine cones that he collected in the yard this fall and I thought that we could make them into ornaments. So, while at the craft store, Henry found a puzzle (go figure- it's like Henry's own paradise that every store has puzzles.) Again I indulged him and bought the $3 puzzle (Fantastic Four).

By now it was about 6 pm- we were both getting hungry and tired. But the most important stop was still ahead. Our toilet seat is cracked, and pinches one's bottom whenever one sits on it! So I needed to stop at Lowe's and get a new one. Lowe's holds ZERO interest for Henry, but he carried his new puzzle in with him. I asked if he wanted to ride in a cart (knowing he was tired), and he said "these carts are all messed up!" That seems to be his new way of dismissing an idea- saying the thing is "all messed up."

So we wandered all around Lowe's, with Henry getting more and more frustrated. He actually started saying "you don't like this place", "you want to get out of this place". It is really open and cavernous- I don't know if something about the store made him feel uncomfortable, or just the fact that they didn't have puzzles or power ranger stuff.

We finally got the seat and were walking to the checkout. I tried to carry him, but couldn't with the toilet seat under my other arm. When I put him down, he dropped his puzzle. I tried to pick it up, but he took it from me and threw it down on the ground, letting me know he was really fed up. He said "you want to leave it here." We were about 20 feet from the checkout and there weren't many people around, so I just left it there and kept an eye on it, figuring we'd go back and grab it.

Someone who worked at the store came over and picked it up and I could have sworn he took it over to the customer service desk. But, when we went over and asked about it, no one seemed to have any idea what I was talking about. So the puzzle is gone.

It's sort of ok, because I want him to learn the lesson that if he throws something down and says he doesn't want it anymore, it might really be gone. But all the way home and all the next morning we had to talk about the Fantastic Four puzzle. I think maybe Santa will bring him a new one.

In NT kid news, Tommy's language is growing so quickly- it really makes me see the things that Henry wasn't doing at that age (but I didn't really know any better at the time, and every kid is different...) Thomas is only 21 months old, and he is coming to me, holding out his finger, saying "mommy, hurt, me, block." And picking up Bill's hat, saying "daddy wear." He also climbs out of his crib effortlessly- that one I'm not so excited about!

OK, I am probably a bad mom to do this, but I have to post a couple funny pictures. I am in that  pre-Christmas mode, where I have so much to do and I need to do it right now. So I got it in my head that I wanted to take the kids' Christmas card picture yesterday morning. I was obviously in total denial about Henry's REALLY BAD bedhead (he went to bed with wet hair). He desperately needs a haircut, but that's easier said than done with this kid. So here is one of the pictures I took:
What was I thinking? Like I'm going to send my friends and family this picture??!! Not to mention that Thomas has food on his face.

In my defense, I think I see my children through rose-colored mommy glasses. I often bring pictures in to work to show off and once I see them through someone else's eyes, I think, "oh, his face was really dirty there" or "gosh, they're only half-dressed in this one." But obviously at the time I thought my kids were being so darn cute that I needed to capture it in a photo.

A couple weeks ago Bill was going to take Tommy along to Henry's swimming lesson. So I got out the trunks and a swim diaper, which Thomas promptly put on his head. Then he put the trunks on over his pants. Why?!


I think both of these pictures will make me laugh for awhile...