how about some lists?

Sorry, but some days it's all I can muster...

bad:
-I was only able to take one day off last week to have "spring break" with the boys
good:
-They did fun stuff as usual with their babysitter, so I'm the only one who feels like I missed out. Bonus- today when Henry went back to school, Tommy said "oh, but now I have to go to L's by myself." He really likes having his brother with him.

bad:
-The day I did take off was rainy and cool, so we went to the science center rather than the zoo.
-Also, every other family in the state went to the science center that day.
good:
-The boys were amazingly patient when we had to wait in all those lines.
-We still got to go to the zoo, on Saturday.

bad:
-At the science center Henry was obsessing about something or another and tugging on my hand throughout the "Goosebumps" exhibit- the one Tommy was really interested in. I feel like we scooted out of there and Tommy got short-changed.
good:
-Tommy recited every word I had told him about the exhibit after we got home. He was really paying attention and really into it.
-We watched the 3D "extreme screen" movie and it was super cool.

bad:
-Pajama pants worn at the zoo don't block the cold breeze very well and may induce much whining and complaining in their 4-year-old wearer.
good:
-Binoculars can make you forget your cold legs.
-Tommy loved pretending he was a scientist, studying animals with his binoculars. L takes them to programs at the metroparks, so he has learned that "scat" is the scientists' word for "poop" and that it can be studied. Every 4-year-old boy should know this.

bad:
-Tommy fell asleep on the way home from the zoo (at 5:30) and didn't wake up until 5:30 the next morning.
-He was not awake to appreciate the face painting we got right before we left, and instead left much of the paint on his pillow and then my pillow.
good:
-Because he was asleep so early, it was easier for me to talk to my high school friend who called that night.

easter

I thought I had everything I needed for the Easter baskets. Then, on Friday, we were talking about Easter coming up, and Henry piped up with "the Easter Bunny will bring me a book about animals!"

He will, huh?

So, a dutiful mother, I ran out on Saturday to get a book about animals (I mean, one more book about animals, as we already have at least a dozen.)
Henry was happy with this one, and scampered off into a corner to look at it. His brother tried to get him interested in the Legos and moon sand in their baskets, but Henry was all about the book.
But a little while later, the truth came out: "It was a sticker book."
"The book about animals that you wanted was a sticker book?"
"Yes."
"...well, the Easter Bunny must not have known that. Did you see a sticker book you wanted somewhere?"
"At the mall."

They had taken a class community skills trip to the mall and he must have seen the book there. Oh well, the Bunny gets an A for effort.
(This child, the one who always wants to wear shorts and short-sleeved shirts, now doesn't even want to wear a shirt at all!)

We had a nice day of treats, coloring eggs, visits from family and friends, and some yummy food. The only element missing was church, which we really need to get back to.* Bill told the boys the Easter story, and offered to read it out of the children's Bible. Henry got kind of agitated and started asking for "the Jesus books". We told him that we didn't have any Easter books, and that all the Christmas books were put away.

Well, you know what happened: I ended up going down in the basement, pulling out all the bins of Christmas decorations, and finding the Christmas story books for Henry! Even though the Easter story has a happy ending, I can't blame Henry for preferring the "baby born in a barn" story to the "man tortured until he dies" story. Can you?

The timing was just perfect when I got Henry out of the bath Saturday night; the sun was setting and shining right in the bathroom window.

Henry glanced out the window and then smiled, mesmerized by the sun. "The sun is setting," he said. The moment was so perfect- my son stopping to show me something I had been too distracted to see for myself. I had to run and grab the camera (as he stood there, shivering). And then, of course, I couldn't get a shot with his eyes open.

-Last Monday morning, as I was watching the list of school closings, I noticed the name of the private autism school in our area. That got me thinking, just a little.

-Later that day, I read this post about a Dream School. That got me thinking just a little more.

-Thursday morning I called the autism school and left a message asking if we were still on their waiting list.

-Thursday at noon we had our MFE and IEP meetings. I summed the meetings up to my mom (and hopefully didn't offend her) by saying "I felt like I was sitting at a table with 10 of you." What I meant by that was; almost everyone around the table seemed smitten by Henry. They are all charmed by his intelligence and his messy blond hair and his smallness. They go on and on about all the things he can do well.

Now, there are a lot of things he can do well, as you readers know, because I brag about them here all the time. And I'm certainly not suggesting that the specialists at Henry's school should bombard me with the things he doesn't do well! I think I am just getting the feeling that no one is challenging him, aside from his main teacher. And, because she challenges him, he exhibits behaviors with her that no one else sees, and these behaviors prevent her from being able to get farther with him. See the cycle?

When he was 6, it was enough that he could function in a classroom and get something out of his day. But now I feel like we need to have bigger-picture goals, and instead of trying to get this kid to fit in to a regular-ed classroom by 4th grade (which seems to be the aim of the program), we should be building upon his interests and helping him blossom.

Rather than wringing our hands because his math ability is below grade level, I'd like to see someone say "wow, Henry shows a lot of interest in Paris/the Presidents/Big Cats. Let's have him do a research project on that." Of course, we still need to focus on the math, but not at a detriment to his other skills.

I know, I'm living in a dream world. Or a homeschool world :-)

-Thursday night during Thomas' gymnastics class, I struck up a conversation with the aide of an autistic girl. (I've noticed them for weeks. Why was it this week that I decided to approach them?) I asked the girl's age and told the aide about Henry. "I'm a special ed teacher," she said, "I teach at a school called [autism school I called that day]." I told her that I was hoping to still be on their waiting list. The young woman asked me my name and Henry's, and said that she would ask someone about us. She seemed like a neat young woman (I mean, she teaches all day and then works with the kids in the evenings too) and it just seemed, to quote Drama Mama, serendipitous.

-Someone from the autism school called me back Friday, and said that we are "second on the waiting list for our birth year", so it was a "realistic possibility" that we would be getting a call for an interview.

Without having visited the school (they won't do that until you're called for an interview), it's too soon to say if this is something I hope for. But it is nice to have options. And I feel like Bill and I are getting a better idea of what we want for our son, rather than just having the other experts tell us what we should want for him.

The current situation is good. I know that we are lucky. But it's not the best. And why not be hoping for the best?

last post on the judicial system

My fellow jurors reached a verdict yesterday, and I feel compelled to write one more post about jury duty. I would not have traded this experience. It was not only educational, it actually has renewed my faith in people.

That might surprise you, if you consider that I spent 4 weeks listening to details of fraud and egos run amuck. But, as the judge told us during jury selection, the system really does work. It does. And that gives me comfort.
And the regular folks who were chosen for the jury were really good people- all 15 of us. Yeah, I got bugged by being shut up in a room with them all day every day. But here's what struck me: the difference in my colleagues between jury instruction Tuesday afternoon and announcing the verdict yesterday.
I stood with one of the alternates and the jury deputy as the jurors filed in to a packed courtroom. Those 11 hours of deliberating had really taken a toll- each one looked as if he/she were ready to cry or vomit.
The alternate and I were able to go into the jury room after the verdicts had been read on each of the 26 counts, the jury had been polled, and then dismissed. My neighbors in the jury box throughout the trial each hugged me. One of them started to cry. She was one of two women who were put up in a hotel during the week because their commutes were so far. The other out-of-towner started crying too. "Gretchen, would your verdict have been the same? Would it?"
I assured them that it would have been. I hope the defendants in this trial realize how seriously these jurors took their responsibility.
We exchanged e-mail addresses and good wishes- I will very likely never talk to any of these folks again, but I feel glad to have met them. From juror #1 who collects guns to juror #15 who's a vegan to juror #3 who drove in every morning from her hometown with only one traffic light, they were all good citizens.

manic and love to the homeschoolers

When will I learn that drinking a larger size coffee doesn't make my brain work better? It only makes it work faster and more maniac-ly (not taking the time to figure out if that's a real word or not. See what I mean?)

Some things I'm thinking about this week:

-Should I investigate the autism school in our area? The one that we looked into back when Henry was 4 and didn't have a diagnosis yet. He's doing pretty well in our public school so far, but his success seems completely hinged on Mrs. C pulling the right tricks. On days she is out sick or because her children have a snowday (as has happened A LOT in the past month), half of his progress flies out the window and has to be re-built. How great would it be if the whole school were full of teachers who get it?

Henry has been having more 3-star days than 5-star for the past few weeks. Nearly every day he says he "feels sick" and should stay home from school. When I try to press him further on what feels sick, he (as has been the case for his whole life) cannot tell me. So I have been ignoring it.

His eating has become even more particular- he won't eat pasta and sauce anymore and I have resorted to trying different sauces and different shapes of pasta (he always asks for "the seashell kind".)

It seems like something is up. His teacher has not been sending homework home regularly either for the past few weeks, making it hard for us to keep a routine at home. Perhaps she is just very busy right now with IEPs, etc. But, again, I'd love it if my son could be in an environment where everything does not rely on ONE teacher.

-Henry has been asking to "sleep longer in your bed", meaning he wants to fall asleep in our bed and stay there. He never ever did this as a younger child, it is relatively new, and again makes me wonder what is up.

-What will Henry do this summer? Let's search the internet... Here's a super-cool looking program right near our house, but it costs twice as much a week as the Easter Seals program he's attended in the past. I wonder if there is funding out there that Henry could qualify for? Where would I look? Who would I ask? I'll add it to my to-do list.

It seems like my to-do list is always growing. I know that's true with everyone.

I'm not sure what's bringing on this frenzy. Could be the closing of the jury duty chapter in my life. Could be the impending IEP meeting. Could be the house-cleaning I attempted this weekend. Could be the feeling that winter will be ending soon and spring is coming. Could be the realization that my high school senior (pictured above enjoying the snow) is getting ready to graduate soon.

Operation Forced Independence was fairly successful this weekend. I seem to be the only one for whom this is a big deal. I hadn't even told Bill of my Big Plan, but when Henry asked for sausage for dinner Friday night, I proclaimed "you can learn to make it yourself!" Bill didn't miss a beat, but walked Henry through how to open up the package and put the sausage links in the microwave. Kinda makes me think Bill's been trying to do this for awhile.

Saturday Henry made himself some sausage again (the kid will eat pork sausage links for every meal) and some waffles in the toaster. He didn't eat the waffles, though. (I feel that way sometimes, that a meal just isn't as good if I have to make it myself.) He also spooned out some mixed fruit for himself (pictured above).

Sunday he asked for waffles and I told him to come in the kitchen and we'd make them together. At that he changed his mind and said he wanted cereal with milk. I made him help with that also, but I guess it's a little less involved. And he can still see the tv while pouring cereal and milk.

I have had him get out his own pajamas and put them on by himself every night, and attempted to show him how to run his own bath Sunday night. I made a better effort to have him clean up one thing before getting out another. This is a never-ending battle with a kid who likes to have 3 puzzles out at once and all the prints and books related to a certain move spread out around him at any given time.

He didn't really protest too much at any of this, and I think this will need to be a new state of mind for all of us.

One note I do need to make to Kyra and all you other brave homeschoolers: I don't think my son would respond to this direction as easily if his teachers hadn't already "broken him in" for me. He has learned a lot of "if/then" instruction from school, and a lot of "you can do it by yourself".

Heck, I would still be helping him go to the bathroom if he hadn't gone off to kindergarten and I realized that his teacher probably doesn't pull down his pants for him and put him on the toilet! I'm not kidding, that was a huge realization for me.

I am a big big believer in getting help and advice from as many good sources as I can (this blog being just one example of that.) I have learned so much from friends, family, teachers and childcare providers who have shared their wisdom and philosophies with me.

Given all this reliance on others to help me, I am simply awestruck by homeschooling moms. Of course I hope that you have a good support network of other adults and professionals just as I do. But your day-to-day contact with them has to be minimal when you're down in the trenches teaching an oppositional child how to read or write or add.

extremely low

As I mentioned, Henry's IEP (Individual Education Plan) annual review meeting is scheduled for next week. In our district (state? county? I don't know who makes these rules) he is due for re-evaluation every three years. In yesterday's mail we received a draft copy of the MFE (MultiFactored Evaluation) team report for our review before the meeting.

The report did not hold many surprises. Henry tested "average" overall for his reading and writing abilities, "well below average" for his math abilities.

It appears that the school psychologist's classroom observation was on a 5-star day, as no behavioral problems were noted. Henry was observed while doing a spelling activity in the regular 2nd-grade class, and versions of the word "appropriate" were used several times in the summary. (It should be noted that Henry's aide was with him the entire time, as she always is).

One amusing bit of the report was the description of the psychologist's "assessment and interview" of Henry. It was generally quite positive-sounding:

His vocabulary was well developed, he could name all the animals in a book he brought, spoke about his favorite video, Aristocats, and about his interest in Paris, France and indicated that he would like to visit the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame Cathedral. He was quite curious about pictures in my office and wanted to know about them. He was interested in football and follows the OSU and LSU, along with professional teams, and was knowledgeable about the teams and the results of the super bowl...

This description makes Henry sound like quite the little Renaissance man. Like you could chat with him all day long about wildlife, foreign cities, and sports. In reality, if you chatted with him all day, you would hear the same few facts about Paris and how he would like to go there. Yes, he can tell you who won the Super Bowl, because they discussed that in class and we discussed it at home. But I wouldn't say he follows professional football. Oh, well- I'd rather read a positive spin on my son than a negative one!

The report also noted he also said he had an ear infection for which he was on medication. This is completely untrue. I can only imagine that the psychologist asked Henry how he was feeling, or maybe noted that his nose was runny, asked him about it, and Henry responded that he had an ear infection!

The part of the report that really got me, though, was the summary of the Adaptive Behavior Assessment questionnaires. Henry's teacher and I each completed one. Our evaluations of Henry's behavior are in 2 comparative columns. In only 2 of the 9 categories were we in agreement.

In every other category Henry's teacher gave him a higher score than I did. My evaluation came out to "extremely low" in 7 of the 9 areas. Mrs. C's evaluation came out to "average" in 4 areas, "extremely low" in only 1.

My immediate thought upon seeing this was "what the hell is wrong with me? What kind of mother am I that I "rate" my son lower functioning than his teacher does? I should have more confidence in him."

But the more I thought back to the questions on this assessment, I came to a different realization. The questions (I'm sure many of you have seen them before) were like this:

My child cleans up after himself:
(choose one) never/almost never/sometimes/almost always/always

If Henry's experience and ability vary so greatly between home and school, it's because the expectation is different at school. In this example, he may very well clean up after himself almost always at school, and almost never at home. Because his teachers make him do it and I do not.

My son is 8.5 years old, and 90% of the time I dress him and bathe him. He has never answered the phone or prepared himself something to eat.

His little brother is more independent than he is. But his little brother WANTS to be- that's the difference. Thomas has long been interested in picking out his own clothes. Henry is not, so I pick them out for him.

I need to start making some changes- for Henry's own good. But it's not going to be easy. Not only will Henry fight me every step of the way, but many of our day-to-day activities are going to take twice as long. I may not be able to stick with it all the time, in every instance, but I need to start trying.

It looks like we'll be snowed in this weekend, so this is as good a time as any. I'll pick up a new stepstool and stock up on orange juice and milk (in case of spills) and maybe Henry will get his own breakfast tomorrow morning.

Wish me luck!

something had to give

So I'm not on the jury anymore.

As the 4th week of the trial ended and I headed into an awesome weekend visiting family, I was still totally committed to being on the jury and following the trial through to its conclusion (however many more weeks that would entail).

Sunday night, as we drove home from a busy weekend and I dosed up my sick 4-year-old with ibuprofen, I started to get this anxious knot in my stomach.

Tommy had caught a bug from Bill- the bug that had knocked Bill out for over a week. During the month of my jury duty, Bill had missed work both because he was sick and because Henry had been sick also. This commitment I had made was forcing a sacrifice, not only from my workplace, but from my husband's as well.

Last week I had scheduled Henry's IEP meeting for noon on the 14th, and had been fretting ever since about how I would manage to fit the meeting into the court's lunch hour.

I woke up with Tommy several times during the night, and then tossed and turned, worrying about what to do. I got up in the morning and called the jury deputy to explain my predicament. She is a working mother as well, and said "there's nothing else you can do. Your family comes first." She contacted the judge, who excused me from the jury and thanked me for my service.

It was a really hard decision, but the right one. I hated to feel like a "quitter", and go back on an obligation. But, I also feel like I gave it my best shot. I could not have predicted during jury selection that 3 of my family members would come down sick during the course of the trial!

I was home with Tommy for 2 days and when he returned to his sitter's house today she informed me that she needs to take March 20 off- one more reason I'm glad to not be on the jury anymore.

I read that on Monday the prosecution rested its case. I will keep in touch with the jury deputy to get an idea of how long the defense's case will last, and I plan to return to the courtroom for closing arguments, if possible, and for the verdict.

my week

I'm having a hard time with this new routine. With my new life as a JUROR. Please indulge a little play-by-play boo-hooing:

Monday was a Federal holiday, so we had no trial. So I went in to work and tried to get as much accomplished as I could. Then, Tuesday, Thomas's birthday, I had to go back to court. Just as a coincidence, L had an appointment that morning and had asked us weeks and weeks before if we could just drop the kids off at preschool that morning, and she would pick them up.

If I were attending my real job, that would be no problem- I'd get to work maybe 1/2 hour later than usual and would be able to pick up donut holes for Thomas to take to school for a birthday treat. BUT, in the current circumstance, I can't be 1/2 hour late for the trial and make all those people wait for ME. So I had to run to the store at 6:30 am, pick up the treat, take the boy to Bill's work, and Bill took him to preschool. It's not a huge hardship for anyone, but it was just frustrating. Partly I think I was just being sensitive because I wanted to be the one to drop off my birthday boy. I wanted to give him one extra birthday squeeze. You know how weird we moms can get on a birthday.

So I was pissy all day at court. Tuesday I tried to be a little more social with my fellow jurors, but by Thursday I was grumpy again. I have these anti-social tendencies at times, and I'm starting to chafe at being forced to hang out with these 14 other people (we have 12 jurors and 3 alternates) all day every day. All of them are nice people, but the longer we are together, the more our differences come out. The snowy and cold weather hasn't helped much either- we get over an hour for lunch, so when the weather is a little nicer, maybe I will go out and wander around downtown.

One day I will post some pictures of the courthouse and the downtown area- it's all very picturesque.

Wednesday court let out a little early. The judge asked if any of us would have a conflict with starting early the following morning. I nodded my head, and later explained to the court deputy that I would NEVER be able to start earlier than 9, as I have to put one child on the bus and take the other to his sitter each morning. She said that was no problem. But then the juror next to me started asking questions

"Can't their dad get them off in the morning?" No, he goes in to work at 5:30 am. Not to mention the fact that he already returns home to help out once a month when the school has a late start day.

"Can your son go to latchkey?" Now, the woman who asked this question is an aide in a special ed classroom and we have discussed that my son is autistic. What the hell is she thinking? I thought through all these possibilities a long time ago and discarded them. I am not going to change my life now because of jury duty.

I suppose people like this are trying to be helpful, but it's going to be a looong however-many-more-weeks sitting next to her, that's for sure.

The trial itself is so interesting- I can't wait to tell you about it. (If anyone is interested in the case, you can e-mail me and I will give you some suggestions of places to search for stories about the trial. But of course I can't discuss it with anyone. It's killing me!)

Friday we were scheduled to not have court (I suppose the judge needs some days to get other work done?) Because I had been so on-edge all week, I didn't plan to go into the office, but rather to get some things done at home. A "mental health day", if you will.

Except we had snow and freezing rain and ended up having a snow day. A mental health day is not as effective when all one's children are home with one.

It actually turned out fine- both boys played out in the snow with me for awhile, which is really big for Henry. He is usually quite averse to, well, doing anything outside, but especially in the cold and snow. We also ran a few errands and spent some of Thomas's birthday money.

I wanted to share a couple more pictures from his party. Here are all the kids getting warmed up:

And here is something awesome- Henry doing a "bear walk". You would not have seen this strength and coordination in this boy a year ago!

Henry did have some anxiety about the party. He spent the morning saying he didn't want to go to the party, he didn't like parties, etc. Then, once people started arriving, he got quite excited and kept repeating things like "it is Tommy's birthday! We are having a party! The party is starting!"

He played along and did gymnastics for maybe half an hour. Then he started saying he didn't want to, that he wanted to "help Tommy open his presents", and started getting really anxious about the present-opening. I think Bill missed a lot of the singing, cake, and presents, because he was doing stuff like this:
Then, once everyone was leaving, Henry started asking to "do more gymnastics". But our time was up.

I made a new friend this week, and I hope you'll check out her blog: Rooster Calls. Her son is 3 and she suspects he is on the autism spectrum, but doesn't have a diagnosis yet. She has been reading some blogs, looking for reassurance/guidance/support and stumbled across mine.

I've been thinking about what I convey, as the parent of an 8-year-old boy with autism, to some of the newbies in our community. I hope I don't seem to really know what I'm doing, because that's definitely not the case. But I can say that, with the birthday party being a good example, our family has learned how to cope with Henry's differences. And as he has grown he has become better able to express his needs and wants in a more appropriate, if still atypical, manner. If this party had happened when Henry were 3, or even 5, he probably would have screamed the entire time. We wouldn't have had a party. If it were someone else's party, we would have left early.

So we are all figuring it out together. It gets easier. And we're all happy to lend a hand to someone else, knowing that's one more hand to pull us up when we need it too.

happy birthday lovey

Tommy had his first real birthday party with friends this weekend, at the gymnastics place. He requested red cake (easy- a red velvet mix) and red icing (FYI it takes 1.5 bottles of red food coloring to turn white icing into red). His big sister did the decorating.

He was a very good host, had lots of fun, and received lots of cool superhero gifts. Today (his true birthday) he will bring a treat to preschool and open more presents at home.

I've been working on this analogy in my head: that our children are like vacations. Each a delightful little detour from life as it had been, changing our life experience forever. Some children are like a mountain-climbing survival trek; they challenge you to a level you've never reached before, shocking you and exhausting you and turning things upside-down. Sometimes they make you think "hey, I never set out to be a mountain climber. What am I doing here?" But sometimes they also make you think "hey, look at me- I'm climbing this mountain and I'm actually enjoying it!"

Thomas is like a vacation at a familiar beach house. He's generally easy and predictable and goes with the flow. He gives us a minute to catch our breath. Of course he can be a brat quite often, but even at those times he usually can be reasoned with, and responds to basic parental logic. The storm usually blows over quickly. I guess what I'm trying to say is, Tommy is a comfort and I'm so glad he's in my life. I hope I never fail to let him know that.

Happy 4th birthday boo-boo.

civic duty

I've been selected to serve on a jury in Federal Court, and they expect the trial to last 6-8 weeks. So my internet use will be quite restricted for the foreseeable future. I'll have the evenings and weekends, of course- we aren't going to be sequestered or anything...

When I first received the jury notice, I was excited. The two days of jury selection were educational- sometimes entertaining and sometimes tedious.

Today the trial starts, and I feel quite nervous. Nervous like I'm starting a new job. A new job where people's futures are depending on me.

But I also feel proud to be part of the process.

I already have so much that I want to tell, but I can't. So I will have to save it all up for 6-8 weeks!

some random observations and a question

(That's right- another post already. If you haven't been here for a few days, scroll down to see a video of and post about Henry.)

Today I just wanted to share a few random things-

-Thank the maker that Lost is back on!!!! It may sound quite pitiful to many of you who have more exciting social lives, but Lost night is like a date for Bill and me: some time set aside to do something together that doesn't involve kids or work or money or cleaning and provokes our brains a little bit. I thought last night's show was AWESOME- (but that could just be because there has been no new television to view for months.) New questions, new creepy characters, new allegiances, new leaps forward in time... yippee!

-Did you know that a venti hot tea at Starbucks costs the same amount as a grande? No kidding. I know most of you are coffee drinkers, as I usually am, but this week for some reason coffee has sounded unappealing. I've been ordering a white tea (supposed to be good for you for some reason) with some skim milk, and today I upgraded to a venti for the same price. February is going to be a good month, I'll tell ya.

-To those of you who are runners: what brand of shoe do you wear? I've been wearing Nikes, but they seem to wear out so quickly. I got my most recent pair in October. I run/walk maybe 7 miles/week maximum, have taken weeks off here and there, but I seem to be getting shin splints already. Anyone have a shoe that they recommend?

Henry update

This is quite a long video of Henry reading the concluding pages of The Lion King. The sound isn't great and of course we're still working on his pronunciation and enunciation, but I hope you'll catch the flavor of his story-telling ability. You may recognize the dramatic final battle between Simba and Scar/the hyenas. I did not prompt him to do this. I headed upstairs to have some homework time, and found him reading aloud to himself, with great flair.

Christine was correct in her recent comment- I have been kind of quiet lately. For one thing, I kind of lose perspective sometimes on what I want my blog to be. I want it to be more than just a “log” of what I did each weekend, for example. Or a big bitch session about things that are bugging me (like today our shower curtain rod broke. At least it was after my shower.) Add to that the fact that some things are not to be written in a public forum, and mix in a little of January-is-a-generally-gloomy-month, and you get, well, nothing written here.

One thing that I had wanted to blog about seems to have (knock on wood) resolved itself.

Henry's teacher (Mrs. C) and I had a phone conference two weeks ago (on the18th). At that point his behavior had badly deteriorated, and she was searching for what to try next. He was refusing to do any independent work at all, arguing with the teachers and, when they tried to ignore him, following them around shouting at them and/or randomly pushing or scratching other children in the class.

He was wasting so much time trying to argue about not hanging up his coat or doing his "independent work" (which is always an easy worksheet) that he was missing out on all his mainstream time with the other 2nd graders.
I also discovered that the time he had been spending with the regular class had not been as successful as we thought. Mrs. C had recently found out that the aide working with Henry had allowed him to just flip through the science book, for example, instead of following along with the science class that was being conducted. She was not challenging him at all.

Mrs. C wasn't wanting to be discouraging, but I think was more just trying to brainstorm with everyone involved to come up with a new strategy. I asked if she thought this was just transition trouble after the Christmas break. She dismissed that idea promptly: school had been back in session for 2 weeks. (But I know that Henry often starts back to school ok but then burns out after the first week or so.)

We were heading into the long MLK weekend- my kids were going to spend some time with Grandma and Grandpa and Henry's teacher was taking a little trip herself. She said she had some new books to read and was hoping to come up with some new ideas for working with Henry.
I felt pretty down after this conversation. I worried that his behavior would alienate him from the other children and prevent him from learning. I felt terrible knowing that my child was hurting other children. And I didn't know how I could help, aside from trying new medications or maybe taking Henry to a psychiatrist.
(After our parent-teacher conference in November, we began giving Henry a medication that our pediatrician had suggested. It has not helped at all, and we are weaning him off of it.)
I was pondering a lot of big questions, like what are my goals for my child? To be mainstreamed? To be able to work independently? To be challenged? To learn? To treat people with respect? All of these are potential goals, but some seemed to be mutually exclusive. It did not appear that he could be challenged to work independently and still behave productively at school.

For the past week, Henry has brought home glowing reports in his notebook. Mrs. C told me that she gave some thought to what I had told her about swimming lessons.

You see, Henry never argues with his swim instructor. He works so hard for her and never asks for help like he does in most other situations. I think this is because she is so no-nonsense. She is definitely not warm and fuzzy. But when she tells him to swim from one end of the pool to the other and then pull himself out with his scrawny little arms? He does it.

Mrs. C said she thought about that and realized that the swim instructor has created an environment where there is no room for negotiation. So when Mrs. C came back to school after that long weekend, she just told Henry here's how it's gonna be: you're going to do your work right now, and if you don't do it now I'm going to do it with you, hand-over-hand (which he hates). And after that, he was "the old Henry": smiling and happy and cooperative.

Some mornings he arrives at school and has maybe forgotten "the deal". So they sit down at "teacher table" and go over it again- you won't backtalk, you won't argue, you'll do the work. And then he's fine.

I know this sounds kind of hard-ass and cold-hearted. But Henry really seems to respond to it. Right now at least. We are all keeping our fingers crossed. It just seems to prove the old adage that kids need boundaries. And maybe the same way a good boss can't usually be your best friend, maybe a good teacher can't be the kids' best friend?

Mrs. C and I talked about having a reward system at home that corresponds to how his day is reported in the notebook. I proposed that he earns a star every time he has a good day, and then a certain # of stars earn him a new DVD or something. She suggested something even better- he can earn money according to how his day went, which will help reinforce the money concepts they are learning. She will report on his day using a 5-star grading system, and I will come up with the financial equivalent. That way, even if he has a rough day, he can still earn a small bit of money for his 2-star day.

Yesterday, the first day of the new system, was a 5-star day! Way to go Henry!
A certain 3-year-old someone has a birthday in February, and so does his daddy, so I should have some fun things to post about in the coming weeks.

ruminations on bumper stickers and finding a passion

I was raised to hate bumper stickers. Or at least to disapprove of them. My father never hid his contempt for bumper stickers. (Or his contempt for mini vans. Or maybe it was more contempt for the drivers of mini vans.) I don't know, you just sort of absorb and interpret these things as a child, and maybe I've actually got it all wrong. I just know that I grew up thinking bumper stickers were kind of tacky and rude: the driver is assuming that we all really give a s*%t about his opinion; those of us who just happen to be stuck behind him in traffic.

I was thinking about this today as I merged into morning rush-hour traffic behind a minivan. Our state offers an "autism awareness" license plate. My car carries one and so did the vehicle in front of me. I smiled. Then I noticed this van had one of those black and white oval stickers in its rear window that read AUT. I spent some time (I was behind it for quite awhile, and listening to the High School Musical 2 soundtrack, the soon-to-be-4-year-old's current favorite) trying to decipher what was playing on the minivan's DVD player.*

I recognized Elmo, and smiled again. I wondered about the child in the minivan, and the parent. I felt a friendliness toward them without ever catching sight of their faces. And I wondered about a disorder that can create a relationship where there would never have been one otherwise.
I was amused by the thought that a bumper sticker could bring people together, and thought "well this is about something more important than your average bumper sticker."

But maybe that's the thing- as passionate as I feel about my son and the autism community- maybe that's how passionate some people feel about their football team, or their membership in the NRA, or their belief that the president is a dumba$$.
If I didn't have my Henry, what would help me feel a connection to a stranger? I'm glad I'll never have to find out.

*Is anyone else afraid they're going to get in an accident one day, trying to watch what is showing in another car on the highway? I find other cars' DVD players highly distracting.

empty-handed

Today I intended to write about how my sons are gone visiting grandma and grandpa for the long weekend. I wanted to write about how I miss them when they are gone: how I listen for their voices and footsteps and cringe when I make a loud noise out of fear I will wake them; how I miss their snuggly little bodies and stinky morning breath.

But I also wanted to write about how I enjoyed my leisurely evening and morning as mom to only a teenager: how Kate and I had a nice time shopping together and spent too much money at the Gap outlet; how Bill and I watched at least 4 episodes of The Office on DVD last night; how I stopped at Starbucks for a venti half-caff skinny caramel latte and still got to work on time for once.

I wanted to share one of my favorite quotes, from Octoberbabies (sorry, no link-she doesn't have a public blog anymore): Today you were wearing an aqua colored tank top and a white and aqua striped skirt and pigtails and you insisted on sitting on my lap for the greater part of the ride to school. I felt your weight on my lap and smelled the conditioner in your hair. I put one hand on your leg and one on your tummy and thought to myself, “what did I do with these hands before my babies were born?”

That last line has always spoken to me, and it comes to mind at rare times like this, when my children are not with me. And I came up with my clever title for the post: "empty-handed".
And then I started checking all my blogs. And started reading about this story.

And thinking about this family.

And the title of my post took on a new meaning.

Rest in peace Katie.

belated new year report

I've been having a bit of blogger's block.

A few good things that I want to report are kind of dwarfed by some crappy stuff going on right now that is not really fit for public consumption.

Some of you know what I'm talking about. Those who don't, I don't mean to be all mysterious... There's just good and bad in every family at any time and it really stinks at the times that the bad stuff is a big elephant in the room. You are all trying to pretend it's not there and at the same time avoid being stepped on by it. Or pooped on by it. Gosh, I could just go on with this metaphor (or is it a simile?) all day...

But I won't.

Instead I'll share some photos from New Year's Eve. Let me say up front that the boys stayed home with their dad that day, while I went to work, and remained in their pajamas all day. Also, they have both gotten haircuts since these photos were taken.

Tommy got his own Leapster for Christmas, I'm not sure why he was just watching Henry play with his...

We made our own pizzas that night:

And fruit salad:

The "fruit salad" was such a huge hit. They ate more fruit than pizza. Too bad many of us lose that natural love for fresh fruit and replace it with ice cream! (We had ice cream that night too, of course.)

I dozed with the boys and on the couch from about 10 - 11:50 pm, waking up to see the ball drop. Not a craaazy New Year's Eve, but a pretty nice one.

_______

Last weekend I took Henry and Thomas to the zoo. I know I write about that all the time, but it is what I like to do when I feel like we need to get out of the house. Henry doesn't last long at the playground, so the zoo is an outdoor activity that involves some movement and some interaction and some fresh air and doesn't cost too much money. It also requires some decision-making and compromising, which are important for all of us to practice. And, we all just like to see the animals.

Henry likes to shout "hello" to each animal, and hop around, flapping and humming, as he watches them. Of some of the animals he commands/requests certain activities: "jump in the water penguin! Jump in! C'mon little penguin, don't you want to swim?"

This time each boy got one of those souvenir pennies- they each picked the wolf pattern.
_______

Henry's teacher contacted me last week about making a change in his schedule. He had been joining the second grade class for language arts, but she was proposing that he join them for science and social studies instead. These subjects involve more discussion and participation, and less "pencil and paper" work (his least-favorite thing).

Their monthly "community trip" this time was to the bowling alley and Frisch's restaurant for lunch. Henry loved the bowling, but didn't eat any of his lunch. He ordered mac & cheese, which was undoubtedly different from his mother's very special Kraft mac & cheese. Next time I will have to preview the menu and suggest what I think he should order.

_______

This morning Thomas cried on his way to L's house. He said he didn't want to go there- something to do with D, this other boy she watches. "Me and D always boss each other" he sobbed.
"Well, you don't have to play with D," I offered.
"But I like to play with him!" He cried even harder.
"Just try your best to be a good friend and to play nicely with him."
"I do try my hardest but it just gets worser!"
"And if you have an argument and get put in timeout, just try again after your timeout. We just keep trying, right?"
"I know that but I just can't remember it because I'm not four!"

Oh my gosh. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The whole discussion was sweet and a little funny. But he was so so truly sad and worried about this- worried that he would "boss" his friend, or his friend would "boss" him. My heart ached. Sometimes life must seem so overwhelming when you're not four.

I'm sure Tommy was over the whole thing by the time I got to work. But I was emotionally spent before the workday had even started. Sometimes my life feels quite overwhelming. Do you think it's because I'm not 39 yet?

some things about Christmas 2007 that make me smile

1. The gifts Henry bought us during his class trip to the dollar store (listed in order of appropriate-ness to the recipient):
for Thomas: a 24-piece Winnie-the-Pooh puzzle
for me: a tiger bath scrubbie
for Kate: a plastic snowman treat container (empty)
for Bill: a pack of combs

They also made their own gift wrap.

2. Santa gave Thomas a pack of gum in his stocking. He proceeded to chew the entire pack all on Christmas afternoon- one piece at a time, and not swallowing any.

Bill says this is what millionaires do: throw their gum away as soon as it has lost its flavor and pop in another piece.

3. I took the kids to the pool on the 24th, to wear them out. By bedtime Tommy was a wreck of exhaustion, excitement, and sensitive skin (pool chemicals seem to really bother him). He was pretty much crying about anything and everything, and I was on guard for the moment Henry would lose his cool and start yelling or pinching. But instead, Henry came over to Tommy's bed and, in a gentle voice, said "you'll be ok, you'll be ok."

When I came back into the room with our bedtime book, both boys were smiling. "Henry made me feel better," Tommy explained.

4. Kate prepared the Christmas coffee cake that we usually make, while Bill prepared his casserole and I wrapped some gifts. She also helped carry all the gifts upstairs and arrange them under the tree. It's nice to have another grownup to help, but still have her be one of the kids when it comes to watching the Christmas movies and decorating with paper chains!

5. As he helped me wrap Grandpa's weather station, Tommy commented "yeah, 'cause sometimes Grandpa just likes... (shrug)... boring stuff."

6. Tommy passed the time at Grandma & Grandpa's by wrapping and unwrapping gifts for himself. For example, the happy meal motorcross bike from lunch, wrapped in a gift bag with prodigious amounts of tape.
7. Santa brought me Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I thought about getting it for Kate or Henry, but knew that that would really just be a poorly-disguised way of getting it for myself.

8. Henry woke up at the same time I did on Christmas morning- around 5:15 am. We waited until about 6:30 to wake his brother and sister up.

9. Henry has always loved Christmas, but this was the first year that he seemed to really get excited about SANTA COMING TO OUR HOUSE.

10. Overall Henry seemed more, um, connected this Christmas. He didn't need as much quiet-time-in-his-room as he has other holidays.

He sat with us at dinner and breakfast at my mom and dad's, somehow able to overlook his brother's antics. (That particular morning Thomas was playing with an old Star Wars toy of his uncles', which is made to crash apart upon impact with, say, a wall or a dog dish or the table. Tommy would smash it into something, exclaim "whoa!", and then ask my brother to put it back together again...)

Henry decorated cookies and enjoyed a family trip to an evening light show. He shared and communicated and waited to open presents until it was time. We did start some new medication with him about a month ago, so I wonder if we are seeing the effects of that, or just some growing up?

Hope your holiday gave you lots to smile about too!

my weary world rejoices

(Baking this morning. The thing that gets me about this picture is- here Henry's standing on a chair. But someday he will be taller than me. Sooner than I think.)

At this time of year I listen to our local "light rock" radio station; they've been playing Christmas music 24-hours-a-day ever since Thanksgiving. Most of it is just background mood music, but every once in awhile a different version of an old classic really shakes me. So far this year there have been two:

Neil Diamond's Jingle Bell Rock - I mean, who rocks out to that song anymore? But I did the other morning on the way to work when I heard Neil Diamond!

Martina McBride's O Holy Night - Her voice usually shakes me up anyway, but her version of this song made me cry.

Long lay the world, in sin and error pining
'Til He appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!

That song is what the season's all about. The weary world - those are the words that resonated with me this year. We all get so weary. The whole world is weary. But then we feel the thrill of hope...
________

Well, enough of that. The other sounds I wanted to write about are coming from my kids. We have these Disney music collection cds, and Kate and Henry have been singing along to them after school. Henry's voice is still pretty off-key, but it is getting stronger and louder- he really belts out those songs. A new viewing interest, because of these singing sessions, has been The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

A couple weeks ago Henry was very excited to tell me that they had watched Peter and the Wolf in music class. At first I thought the interest was purely the Disney/cartoon connection. But then he started rattling off the names of the instruments that represent each character, and I was amazed. He remembered the name of each instrument! I mentioned it in his notebook, and his teacher sent home a book about instruments for homework last week. Usually I can only get him to read one or two chapters a night of the homework books, but he read the whole book in one sitting with me. One chapter was about percussion, one about woodwinds, one about brass, etc.

At times we feel like our kids will never develop a new interest. And it's true that it does come slower than with non-autistic kids. But new interests do come. I hope Henry will want to play an instrument one day- what a great outlet it could be for him!

Thomas has been singing a lot lately also. His preschool is run by a church and so he is my first child to participate in a not-religiously-sanitized school holiday program. In other words, his program Monday night will feature songs about Jesus and Santa, not just snow and penguins.

He announced one night in the car that he made me an angel at school. Henry's class went shopping at the dollar store last week for their families, and wrapped the gifts with handmade giftwrap! I will have to take a picture.

After much agonizing over teacher gifts (because Henry has so many wonderful professionals who work with him every day), I decided to donate to the local food bank in honor of the teachers at his school. The boys helped bake some cookies and banana bread this weekend and I am going to send some to school tomorrow along with a note about the donation. Our food bank is in dire need this year- I suspect it is the same across the country. No matter how weary my world, someone else's load is always heavier.

NOT the Christmas card photo

God bless those other two- they just pose as agreeably as can be. I snapped 2 pictures this morning on our way out of the house, because it was just so photo-opportunity perfect with the first snowfall. In the other photo Henry is looking up, but grimacing- looks like he's crying. Sigh.

It's not so much that he doesn't like getting his picture taken (although that is a part of it), but he really seemed freaked out by the snow today- didn't want it touching him. Quite a difference from most kids around here who couldn't wait to get out in it today.

The woman who drove Henry to school in kindergarten used to call him "Prince Henry" because he was just so regal in the way he carried himself and the way he always wanted things just so. He was definitely Prince Henry this morning- the snow is touching my boots! Aaack- the snow is on my neck!

Just in case you're wondering how Henry's day went yesterday (after my morning freak-out), his communication notebook entry for yesterday read:

"Rough day- refused work most of the day. Wouldn't attempt activities in APE and got aggressive with [the APE teacher]. Rest of the day was about the same."

Let's hope for a better day today- the only morning torture was making him get his picture taken :-)

the writing program, and how I lost my marbles

(Not to dog Henry's teacher, but...) She always referred to it as "story writer", then when I asked for more info she told me that it's called "pro writer by Don Johnson company."

Upon further searching it appears to be called Co:Writer, put out by Don JohnsTon Inc.
__________

It was time to start watching for the bus this morning. Henry wanted to watch the next show on PBS (Curious George). Thomas, who had been pretending to be a baby all morning: crawling and speaking his big boy version of baby talk (everything starts with a G, like goo goo), was now not a baby anymore, but a big boy who was doing all sorts of pretend surf and skateboard tricks in the living room. Some of the tricks involved banging into me and his brother.

I was worried that Henry's morning would start off badly if his brother pissed him off, so I asked Tommy to stop being so wild. Then I asked him 3 more times. Then I screamed YOU ARE NOT BEING A GOOD LISTENER! I'VE ASKED YOU OVER AND OVER TO STOP BEING SO WILD AND YOU ARE NOT LISTENING TO ME! GO TO YOUR ROOM!

And thus, in the attempt to ensure that Henry had a good morning, I ironically ruined his morning instead. He was angry and crying when I put him on the bus, and wouldn't give me a hug or kiss- wouldn't even look at me, as a matter of fact. I've been mother to this kid for over 8 years now. Why do I still get it so wrong some days?

touch math and story writer

Blech. It's like an hour after I wrote that bellyaching post and I'm thinking man, am I a big baby or what? Lots of people don't have a dryer or a car or a furnace, so shut up already. I guess that's why we write these things down, to free our minds of them and move on.

So, on to something else I've been wanting to share. I mentioned earlier in the fall that Henry was having trouble with math. So his teacher has started "touch math" with him. This is what it looks like:

(I'm sure I'll do a terrible job of trying to explain it in writing, but here goes...) As we know, each numeral represents a quantity of a thing. Some kids seem to have trouble grasping this concept, so touch math puts dots (and circles) on the numeral to try to bring this point home. In the beginning they use the dots and physically tap on them with their fingers. Over time, the concept just becomes memorized, so that a numeral 4= 4 dots/4 things.

It sounds like Henry is making good progress so far using this technique. She plans to send home some touchmath homework next week, so I'll be able to see firsthand.

Another tool they've been using at school is a computer program to encourage Henry's writing. I believe it's called story writer. (I can get more info from his teacher if anyone would like- a quick google search didn't bring up a good link). Although Henry looooves to read, he does not like to write. I was amazed when I started seeing papers like this in his backpack:

At our parent/teacher conference, Mrs. C showed me how it works. You type in the first letter of the word (W, for example) and several word options pop up for you to choose from (they might be watch, walk, went, work). Then you take your cursor and click on the word you choose.

Right now Mrs. C and Henry write his stories together. She does most of the typing and he selects the words. I'm sure she prompts him a bit on what to write as well. But we hope that before long he'll be using the program on his own and writing longer stories.

(This story is one of my favorites because you might remember that it rained when they went to the football game and they left quite early. I knew Henry would remember it with rose-colored glasses!)