Go ahead, take advantage of me - everyone else does.

Hi, I'm hellokittiemama and you can take advantage of me. I'm the mother of 2 children - one with Autism, and therefore that means I have nothing better to do than watch everyone elses children for hours on end without reciprocation. I know that childcare and babysitting options for an Autistic child are few and far between. Why do you think I am home every day in time for the bus and that I do not work outside of my home? It isn't because we are dripping in money and thriving on a single income... but don't I wish? The truth is that it is because I have no place for my son to go after school or when the nurse calls me at 8:30am to tell me that he threw up or had a bathroom incident and needs to be picked up. It is my obligation to my family and to my children, and I don't regret the fact that I am at-home though I wish it were under very different circumstances. You see, my child has Autism so instead of being out and about I have to be home for the daily bus drop-off. I'll be home, so what does it matter if I have another child or two to chase after? After all, I have a child with Autism already so I'm used to it, and I can watch your child with Autism also and their siblings - heck, even one or two of their friends too- even if it completely disrupts my own child(ren)'s routine(s). Don't worry, they'll be fed dinner also - only the best organic fruits and veggies, overpriced 'designer' chicken nuggets & juice. Eat me out of house and home, go right ahead. Even if, we had made family plans and I let you know about them - so please be back by 5pm - you can still show up at 8pm and everything will be 'ok'. And the next time you ask me because you need a favor - I won't say 'no', because I can't. When in the past 5 or so years since my 7 1/2 year old son got awarded his very first "A" - that would be Autism, did I lose the ability to stand up for myself? I spend every day standing up and fighting for my son that my own defenses have become annihilated. Hi, I'm hellokittiemama and I'm a mother of 2 very special children, living at the Jersey Shore. You can find me blogging my mad life, motherhood, autism, diva siblings, and the gluten & casein free diet over at The Bon Bon Gazette - because you know that stay at home moms really do sit around all day watching soaps and eating bon-bons.

Why I Don't Open the Can....

As an advocate parent, I have been told more than once that I don't show my vulnerabilities. I've also been told that I seem to 'have it all together' by some moms who felt like they were holding on by their fingertips. It makes me sad when I hear that because I so clearly don't have it all together, and I wouldn't want anyone to think I'm trying to one-up them on this struggle we're all in on together. I am pretty organized (Type A) and structured (anal-retentive) and I do believe those qualities are good in the management and parenting of a special needs child. I have come to find over the last few years what works for me and my family, and I use those discoveries the best I can. But why am I not vulnerable? Well, that answer has come to me in small little stops and starts lately.... Like when I was standing in the kitchen of one of my favorite girlfriends in the world and burst into tears looking at her kids' drawings. Or when I've sat on the beach on various occasions this summer watching families have the time of their lives while my child is back at the house....unwilling to even come close to the shore. Or today......the ultimate in vulnerability. I was cleaning through things in my child's room as I make room for his big-boy bed and had to go through his keep-sake box. It has everything right from the very beginning: ultrasound pics, hospital bracelet, baby blankets, teethers, bottle, cups, birthday cards, you get the idea...... I went through it pretty quickly because I knew if I didn't I would get really sad. I was only transferring all of it to a much bigger sterlite box anyway.....none of it was going anywhere. So I sifted. Moved it. No attachment. No vigor. No tears. Until I came across one little thing. The sports strap from my child's first pair of glasses. My little boy has been wearing glasses for lazy eye/farsightedness since he was 19 months old. This strap, as tiny as it was, is what I always seem to symbolize with the beginning of knowing there was something different with my kid. And so I looked at it. Held it. Cried over it. Actually cried for a pretty good while as I thought about the baby I had.....the baby I still have......the child he has become......will never be......all of it. When I was done I put the rest of the memorabilia away but kept out the sport strap and stashed it in my own nightstand. So maybe when I feel like I need to have that moment of vulnerability I'll go there and have that. I'm not trying to be stronger than you....this is just the way I need to handle it. I hope the other moms, the ones who think I have it 'so together' will understand. I am The Chick.....I'm a SAHM living Down South where I write about my life.....marriage, friends, music, activism, fads, oh.....and the life of a mom with a 6 year-old boy with autism. Stop by my farm for more!

Sick of It

We have been to 2 parties this weekend. 1 block party and 1 birthday party. We stayed for about 3 hours, because that is about all I or Bacon can handle. He played and ate and had a good time, and I was able to have some semi normal conversations with other parents. 

The coming home part is always the part that stinks. It is the part that ends with me hauling his 45 pound body home while he is screaming and flailing, then carrying him to his room to get him to cool off. It is the part that happens before Mr. T comes home. It is the part that has gotten so bad, I am physically ill. It is so bad that I really don't want to go anywhere with him anymore. 

I am sick of the weird looks. I am sick of the questions. I am just sick of it all. I am tired of fighting with a child who only wants to scream at me when he doesn't get his way. I am tired of fighting with a child who doesn't understand that it just isn't that way all the time. I am tired of throwing up from it and I am tired of feeling guilty for it. 

What advice do you all have? What techniques work for your Aspie? What books have helped you cope with this? What support groups have you joined? Do you use counseling? What works? Mr. T doesn't get it, and he isn't here 24/7/365 so he couldn't possibly get it. Those of you moms who are in it do get it. Help please. 

*My name is  Mrs. Tantrum. I am a 31 year old mom to a 4 year old son who was recently diagnosed with Asperger's. I blog almost every day at Momma's Tantrum about our life with Asperger's, Coffee, the crazy antics here, and more. I do have a fierce potty mouth so if you are easily offended, just cover your eyes and hum loudly!*

On the Michael Savage Controversy

Most of us know what Michael Savage said about autism a few days ago. I am not going to recap. I am also not going to blog my reaction to it, because it is, predictably unfavorable. But men like Savage expect an unfavorable reaction. Press, good or bad, is what drives ratings. So, I would like to encourage you:

Don't Feed the Trolls. Even the highly-paid, syndicated radio ones.

Do you remember back in the day when posters would pop into chat rooms or BBS systems, say the most inane things and try to start a fight? Remember what we used to say? Don't feed the trolls. If they don't eat, they leave. Given no one who will rise to their bait, they have to go elsewhwere.

It's the same with Michael Savage. What he said was savage. And he will say worse, he always does. But don't fight him.

Instead, target his advertisers. Get him off the air. Without his radio platform, he will just be another loudmouth shooting his mouth off about what he doesn't understand. But, then, so is a quarter of America. The difference is, they don't have a forum in which to do it.

So I say again. Don't talk about it. Don't blog it, just act. Boycott the advertisers and get rid of this man once and for all.

This list came from here, so make sure go and give him love for compiling this.

A list of current advertisers and their websites

Digital Media Inc., U.S.A.: http://dmiusa.com/ Nevada State Corporate Network, Inc.: http://www.nscn.com/ Roger Schlesinger, the Mortgage Minute Guy: http://mortgageminuteguy.com/ Townhall.com: http://www.townhall.com/ Effectur: http://www.effectur.com/landing.aspx?id=436&gclid=COv8oen-ypQCFQ4RnQodqE95rA Geico: http://www.geico.com/ Home Depot: http://www.homedepot.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/ContentView?pn=Contact_Us&langId=-1&storeId=10051&catalogId=10053 Wachovia: http://www.wachovia.com/ Gold Bond: http://www.goldbond.com/ FreshStart America: http://www.freshstartamerica.com/ Heritage Foundation: http://www.heritage.org/ Breakpoint: [Link removed; see "Breakpoint Responds Re: Michael Savage] Debt Consultants of America (snail mail and phone number listings): http://www.dallas.com/debt-consultants-of-america-incorporated-b23046351 DirectBuy: http://www.directbuy.com/ [See "Directbuy.com Responds Re: Michael Savage"] WebEx: http://www.webex.com/

T, who says, house elves are ok to feed

T. is a writer, wife and mother of three children, two who have high-functioning autism. She advocates for autism awareness and education, as well as acceptance. She views autism as a growth process and the opportunity to connect parents for support as a privilege. She is the Special Needs Editor at typeamom and her own site, Send Chocolate reflects her passion for her children and autism.

Stupid test scores

Warning! Major Vent! So Dino Boy just finished first grade. He had to take a test. The NJ Pass...I hate tests. Well, I don't hate tests, I liked school. I loved college and learning and tests- well, cause I was pretty good at telling the teacher what they wanted to hear- I got A's and even became a teacher. But now, I hate tests. I remember, vaguely, the week that Dino Boy had to take this test. He was nervous, scared even. But then they decided not to give him the test with the class. He got to take it on random days with the school counselor. He was still nervous of course but he didn't know when he was gonna take the test so he couldn't panic ahead of time. I thought this would help him. I didn't focus on the test. Just try, hell, just try to sit. That is all I care about. Please Dino Boy be happy, don't panic, mommy doesn't care what the test says, I know you are brilliant and no one in the world knows more about dinosaurs than you, just, please, BREATHE. And that is what I am telling myself now. Breathe. I am used to high test scores. I got them. My ADHD brother who flunked out of every class still ACED every standardized test that was put in front of him and to be frank he (Uncle Frog) is the smartest person I know. So Dino Boys scores? He did better in math than language arts. I knew that. He hates to read. He can't scan, his sight words are just gone, I try to review and get him to read but making him sit at the table is more than half the battle. ( We are working on this and hope exists) But still on the NJ pass overall scale of 1,2,3, he got a 1 Basic. Minimal skills... some areas better than others but none were really, well, passing. Language arts. worse. Basic again, but this times in ways that I really don't get. I mean, he can recite a story to me tell me details days later. But he couldn't recite for a test? Was is that boring? Could he not fill in the bubble? He loves to be read to, he may not sit for it but it all gets in there....what happened? I don't know whether to cry or throw the f*c>ing test out the f*c>ing window or say that Its ok, this was pre IEP, pre summer occupational therapy, pre my Asperger's book binge, pre internet support group. Next year he will have the same teacher(not yet sure if that is good or not) , an aide, speech, in school OT, maybe out of school OT too. Should I care? Does school just want to make you bang your head against a wall--hard? Thanks for Listening- Eile The rest of this rant continues on my blog. It goes more into fears that I am not yet sure that you all want to hear. So feel free to read the more rambling uncensored version over there. Going Down Laughing

Autism, Clay, and a Crap-Load of Metaphor on Parenting

I've noticed a lot of bloggers lately have been writing odes to their children as it seems that many of them have summer birthdays. Their words have been very sweet and have really spoken to me. In a world in which so many children are unwanted, abused and neglected it's always nice to see that there are many that are not only loved, but genuinely cherished. But I have to be honest....reading such pieces is always a little bittersweet for me. I can't help but notice and think about what they have and what I don't. I try not to dwell too much on what my child can't do and what his autism takes from him, but sometimes to avoid those things is to live in true denial. I have been in the position many times to speak to parents of children recently diagnosed with autism. I have also been in the position to offer support and counsel to parents who have coped with the disorder for some time. I am really in no way qualified to do either, but something about my listening skills and a background in the human services has lead me to these jobs. In those situations, many a person has heard me use the old "children are like clay" story. Go with me here.... When a new baby is born, he is a lump of clean and perfect, unused clay. As the potter or parent, you can turn that lovely clay into whatever you so choose. It could become something as lovely as a glazed vase or something as dirty and unremarkable as an ash tray. As parent/potter YOU will choose how to fashion this priceless clay. When you have a child with a disability, you also get clay. It often even looks as good as "typical" or "normal" clay. But when you start shaping it, you realize as its parent/potter that it's not so easy to spin. It requires much more work and a much more delicate hand. You will become frustrated with the clay and sometimes even get mad that you can't work it as well as the other potters. You will even wonder sometimes if your clay can be fashioned into a vase or an ash tray or will simply remain.....clay. You will walk out of your studio and see the other potters. They are all either thrilled with or disappointed by their clay.....it really all depends on the day. Sometimes they will get mad at their clay when it's really them that aren't treating it and spinning it right. And sometimes they will get annoyed when their clay does something really silly like falling off the wheel. They'll berate the clay and make a huge deal out of a simple accident that can be easily remedied. And what of us potters of the "other" clay? The clay that won't spin? Won't seal? Won't slip? Has dents, pocks, discoloration, pockets, etc? What do we do with our non-performing clay? Well, we'll get mad at it. Cry over it. Keep spinning it. Keep telling it we know it can. Lose patience with it. Let another more experienced potter give it a try. Cry again. Have I beaten this clay metaphor to death? I used to like to spin.....sue me. My dedicated readers know that I don't talk a lot about Little Boy's autism. And I also don't try to use this blog for complaining, ranting or bellyaching. But I just had to use this chance to say something to all of you "normal" potters out there: take this clay you were given, and dammit, spin it right! You will never know how blessed/lucky/fortunate you were to have been given it. And when you see us other potters out there.....the ones with the "challenged" clay. Don't give us your sympathy. And don't give us your criticisms of advice. Just look at us and know that we're potters too. And like you, we're just trying to make a masterpiece. I am The Chick.....I'm a SAHM living Down South where I write about my life.....marriage, friends, music, activism, fads, oh.....and the life of a mom with a 6 year-old boy with autism. Stop by my farm for more!

I Love You

Having an "Aspie" means that you come to know certain things. You learn quickly that they use the same phrases repetitively. It is part of that whole routine thing that helps to soothe them. I think it also is part of what some experts refer to as "scripted speech" - meaning that they hear this and then use it because they think that is how you are always supposed to talk. 

My Bacon uses "scripted speech" a LOT. Things are DEELICIOUS, and he always has a GREAT IDEA. Often THAT'S NOT SAFE, or NOT A GREAT IDEA. His newest (and my favorite) is What I was probably thinking is.... 

He does say "I love you" but only after you have told him that first. He gives hugs and kisses and "Eskimo kisses" (which he calls snuggles) at free will. He will gladly tell you that he misses you or missed you when you were gone. He is vibrant and wonderful with language, but still never just says "I love you momma."

I am okay with that. He is still little, and it is a hard concept to learn and grasp and get. Maybe he will never be the first to say it. That will be okay. As long as I always tell him, and he knows long after I am gone that he was my sun, moon, stars and everything and I loved him with every fiber of my body and soul. 

Then before he left to go to Crazy Aunt Ethel's on Monday he ran inside to give me a hug and a kiss, he threw his arms around my neck and whispered in my ear "I love you momma. I love you more than the sun and the moon and the stars." 

I cried when he left. Not because I was sad, but because finally my little man said the words that I thought that he would never say first, that he loves me. 

*My name is  Mrs. Tantrum. I am a 31 year old mom to a 4 year old son who was recently diagnosed with Asperger's. I blog almost every day at Momma's Tantrum about our life with Asperger's, Coffee, the crazy antics here, and more. I do have a fierce potty mouth so if you are easily offended, just cover your eyes and hum loudly!*