My boyz are growing up (and up and up and ....)

Both my boyz are going to be tall.  That has never really been in doubt.  With hubby just under 6'1" and myself at 5'8" and both of the boyz over 9 lbs at birth, we just knew they were going to be big. 

Now Joe has hopefully stopped growing at 6'3" (but maybe not since he went through his growth spurt late) and when I took Alan to the doctor earlier this week he is 5'7".  So within the next year I will be the shortest one in the family.  (I have been the lightest weight for over a year, but that is another story!)

And while their physical growth has been fascinating for mom to watch, it is their emotional maturity that is the subject of today's blog post.

The boyz have both AMAZED me just this past week.

First off, there's Joe.  I took him to the psychiatrist yesterday and he told the doctor that although he frequently had trouble understanding what people meant when they said or did certain things, most of the time I could explain their motivations to him.  Now maybe that doesn't sound like much to the outsider, but that is huge around here. 

Joe is one stubborn kid.  He is always convinced he is right even when you clearly prove him wrong.  As the parent from whom he inherited most of his stubbornness, I can vouch for this!  We usually butt heads on almost every topic under the sun.  DH is forever telling me to "stop arguing with him!"  Most of the time the truth is subjective so neither of us is necessarily right or wrong but when the truth is pretty obvious, I admit to digging in my heals.  I am usually better at interpreting behavior from body language or circumstances than Joe but to have him acknowledge that fact unprompted was hugely gratifying.  I think most of us have a hard time expressing when we are wrong or deficient in some way, but it does help us grow.

He also continues to do well in his job and likes it!!  He also started work again at the weekend camp and was remarkably dedicated about getting all his paperwork submitted for re-employment.  Proud momma moment here!  He is trying to save money to buy one of our cars so he has stopped going out to lunch every day he can.  This is also rather mature of him.  I'm thinking we can release guardianship for him very soon which makes me incredibly happy.

And then there is Alan.

"Wow" doesn't begin to cover it.  He has been back in school almost three weeks and he hasn't had one "bad" day at school.  There have been "incidents" that they've reported (he didn't want to participate in PE but eventually complied, he couldn't get a soda when out in the community and was very disappointed but dealt with it, I forgot to pack a snack one day and the only things they had available didn't appeal to him, etc.) but nothing major.  They have even told me repeatedly that he is a "role model" for other students.  DH read the note that came home yesterday and said, "Does he have an identical twin around here that you've been hiding from me?"

And at home, he has been good too.

He doesn't have many chores around the house mainly because it is too hard to teach them to him.  But we've been trying to come up with more.  We have been having him take the kitchen trash out to the garbage after we tie up the bag but we always had to tell him to do this.  Then last week I left a bag out (both boyz were in different areas of the house) and Alan came into the kitchen first and took the bag out to the garbage without being asked.  The other thing we have been having him do is sweep the floor after he is done eating -- especially when he has popcorn and leaves little bits all over the floor -- but it has always been a struggle with lots of vocalizations on his part.  This morning he finished breakfast and went out to get the broom without being asked. 

Who is this kid?  Did I have twins and not realize it?

While this is a lot more of a bragging post than I typically write, I did want to let other parents know that it DOES get better.  Joe grew up a lot during high school but he continues to grow now as a young adult.  Alan is just starting to go through the high school maturity and it gives me so much hope.  I still know that he will never be able to live independently and that saddens me.  But when you spend so much of your life in fear of what will happen when your autistic, minimally verbal, occasionally violent child is bigger and stronger than you, it is very nice to know that he might not have to go into an institution but can at least stay here with us.

My little boyz are growing up.  What will I write about now?  I guess my minis ...

Overthinking

Lately I've been spending way too much time overthinking things.  I worry about what I comment on other people's blogs and I worry about what I write on my own.  I don't like to offend people and it seems like some people are so easily offended.

I thought about putting in my two cents about Robin Williams whose death saddened me greatly.  I thought about writing about Ferguson since I lived in Ferguson the first six years of my life but I find myself annoyed at both ends of that battle as well.  I thought about writing about Alan's first week of school (which was phenomenal, by the way!!) and he didn't even need to go to the ER like the first week of school last year.  But really I have no clue what to say about that other than that my Bug is growing up and as he matures he is getting much more even tempered.

But I haven't written about any of those things because I have been overthinking all of them. 

Then today I took the boyz to a local fast food place for lunch.  DH is away doing his own thing this weekend so it was just the three of us. 

It was a very easy lunch.  Alan was being vocal, but well behaved.  I noticed that the roof was leaking and even though several of the customers were commenting on it to each other, no one had bothered to inform the folks that worked there so I went up to do so.  As I passed one woman's table she smiled at me.  She was about my age and was there by herself.  Most of the other customers were elderly so I took the smile to be "Thanks for telling the employees because none of those old folks were going to bother."  And then I stopped thinking about her. 

About five minutes later she walked up to my table and said, "You seem like a nice family.  Here's a gift card for your next visit."  I thanked her and she walked out.  After a lengthy discussion with Joe about "random acts of kindness" I thought about her some more.

I realize there is an excellent chance that what she was really thinking was "Oh my gosh, here is a woman with a special needs son and I feel sorry for her so I will give her a little gift."  There is also a chance she was just doing a random act of kindness and hadn't noticed Alan -- not likely, but possible.  Most likely she was just trying to figure out a way to encourage me.

I might have to remember to do something similar sometime.

All I know is that I'm not going to overthink this event.  I am just going to enjoy it.

Happy Saturday!

When losing feels like winning

Joe recently learned about betting.  Now he wants to bet us about everything.

"I'll bet you a quarter that our team wins tonight."
"I'll bet you a quarter that Diesel is sleeping on my chair again."

Thank goodness his favorite bet is a quarter!

Last Sunday after we dropped Alan off at camp, he says to me, "I'll bet you a quarter that Alan likes camp."  Oh man, you have no idea how much I wanted to lose this bet!

Drop off was ROUGH!

Dad stayed with Alan and I went to go sign him in and drop off medicines.  The medicine line was ridiculous.  150 special needs folks and only four nurses signing in medicines.  And they had to rewrite every single one.  We got there on the early end of drop off and I stood in line for at least 20 minutes and probably closer to 30.

Meanwhile Alan was crying like his heart was breaking.  He tried to get back in the car and DH locked him out of it.  Then they walked him over to look at the pool and when he expressed an interest in swimming, the counselor took him back to the cabin to put on trunks.  Then DH moves the car and hides.

Poor guy.  Later he told me that he had the harder job (I agree) but that it was just as well we split up like we did because he probably would have snapped and yelled at someone in the medicine line.

When we left Alan was only sniffling and there had been no headbutting or hitting.  His tears are killers though.  He just looks so freaking miserable.

Meanwhile all I can do is wonder what he is thinking.  Does he think we abandoned him?  Does he understand enough to know that we will come back and this isn't forever?

Monday night was so weird.  Joe was working.  DH gets home and says, "What do you want to do?  Go out for dinner?  See a movie?"  Wow.  No sitter required.  We almost had an empty nest.  We could get used to this.  Nope.  We won't.

Several times throughout the week we started and looked around frantically for Alan.  It was definitely weirdly quiet.  For a kid that is essentially non-verbal he is noisy!

It was a productive week.  I got Alan's room painted (I hate painting) and we took Joe out for steaks -- something he loves but of course Captain Picky won't touch.

Alan's one on one counselor was wonderful and communicated well with me -- we exchanged over 100 texts over the course of five days!  She even got him to shower (something we've been wanting for forever) and we were able to carry it over for the last two nights.  He still doesn't like them, but we are at least hopeful!

By Thursday, I was missing my Bug something fierce, though.

It turns out a good time was had by all.

After we got home last night, Joe comes in to see me.  "So did he have a good time at camp?"

Yes, he did and I was so happy to lose this bet that I paid him double!

TBT -- More Monkey Pictures

Welcome to Throwback Thursday -- blog style!  This post originally ran on December 13, 2012.  Here you can see why we finished our basement the way we did!

More Monkey Pictures

As promised ... more Alan monkey pictures!

See the plywood on the left side?  That is to protect
wires and copper tubing that he was trying to
use to climb.  Thank goodness DH is handy!

scaling the support pole ...
the kid has "monkey toes"

Climbing up the basement banister
Note it is now a 2"x4" because he
broke the original banister

I love that he does this with a DVD box in
his hand.  He can go all the way from
the basement to the main floor without
touching the actual stairs!

trying to climb through the deck stairs
... he didn't fit!

Squeezing into a cubby in the basement

Another tree he likes to climb at his
aunt's house ... several people
observed that the statue is probably
watching over him!

The kid's flexibility is amazing!

My BIL commented that he looks like the
vulture on Snoopy's doghouse!

More balance beam work

High up in the tree

He had been trying to climb the shelves in his closet.
Note: the bottom left clothes bar has already been
removed ... so have the closet doors but that was
years before!

Somehow he managed to shimmy up on the shelf

crawling across for variety

not sure how he got up there in the first place

oh, maybe like this!

Doesn't everyone relax on top of the monkey bars?

  

just hanging out

Inside he also resorts to bed burrowing

Stair diving ... headfirst on his back!

Hiding in "the tunnel" as he calls it

What have I done?

Alan is going away to camp next week.  It will be for FIVE days.  I am having a minor panic attack about it.  The only time Alan has been away without family overnight was one camp weekend.  Every other time, at least Joe was with him.

What have I done?

He can't tell me if he's miserable.  He can't tell me if they mistreat him.  He can't tell me if he's having the time of his life and wants to go every week next summer.  He can't tell me anything about it.  Oh and he's three hours away from home -- his weekend camp is 30 minutes away.

What have I done?

I know the camp has a good reputation.  Lots of kids go each week (about 150) and they've been in operation for years.  He will get to be outside and probably climb trees to his heart's content.  But what if they won't let him climb trees?  How will he communicate his problems?  Heck, half the time I have no clue why he's upset.  How the heck is a stranger going to figure out the problem?

Well, he's gone to assorted schools since he was 3.  I was never there.  He did just fine.  Most of the dedicated professionals who have worked with him have been fantastic.  They aren't in this field for the money.  They are in it for the kiddos.  Of course the bad apples get all the press so that is what has me stressed.

In reality he will probably have a blast.

I am looking forward to painting his room (it has been probably 8 years since I painted it!) and maybe just having a little "me" time.

Joe is counting the days until little brother leaves.

DH will take a a day or two of vacation and we have some fun evenings planned.

We are all looking forward to five straight nights of sleeping through the night!

What have I done?

I've arranged for a week away for all of us.  As Thomas the Tank Engine says, "Sometimes a change is as good as a rest." 

Here's to a week of change!

My brown thumb

I used to kill houseplants at a ridiculous pace.  I would always forget to water them.  My mom couldn't believe that was possible.  Her advice?  "Just water them each week when you clean."  Um, Mom, that might be the problem.  I don't clean every week!

Fast forward several years and I got a PDA.  Dang, that was the best thing ever invented.  Now I had something that flashed at me every 5 days reminding me to check my poor plants.  Wonderful.  I started doing better.  Not good, mind you, but better.  Of course that morphed into an app on my phone, but it still comes up on my to-do list every 5 days and I ended up with a handful of plants that actually looked OK.

Outside is another story.  I've always hated the heat so even if I put something on my to-do list every other day, I'm sure I would find some excuse not to water.  Luckily DH is phenomenal (anal retentive?) about that and keeps our outside plants looking attractive.

Last year I got smart and decided to make a miniature garden/greenhouse.  Those flowers always look fantastic and I NEVER have to water them!  Win-win!

But I was so excited by my garden window when we redid the kitchen.  It was gorgeous and plenty large enough to keep a wide assortment of plants close at hand so I could remember to water them.  I decided to give houseplants another go.  I even foolishly got a seed starter kit for herbs.  After a few weeks this is what I had growing.

Wow.  Talk about dismal.  (Oh and check out the poor daisy behind the herbs ... deader than the proverbial door nail!)

So I did what any self respecting home owner would do.  I went out and bought replacement herbs.  Hey, at least they look healthy now.

 

OK, I might have cheated a bit and bought a few other plants as well. 

 

The garden window looks great and there will be a few spares when they start getting neglected.

Maybe I should stick to miniature flowers.  I can't kill those!

TBT - What Might Have Been

Here is my version of Throw Back Thursday -- blog style!  (Or TBT-BS as I like to call it!)

This post originally appeared January 8, 2013 and it is still true today.

What Might Have Been

Most of the time I do not have an inferiority complex about staying home.  I have a college degree and I always thought I would go back to work in my chosen field after Alan was in school.  That said, both DH and I really wanted one of us to stay home when the boys were young.  As I had worked fewer years than DH and made less money there was never any debate about which of us would stay home.  I have never felt that DH looks down on me for staying home.  On the contrary, he has always been very supportive and occasionally jealous.  Sometimes I get jealous that he "gets" to go to work because the boys can stress me out but other days, I realize I am lucky because I get to work on my hobbies or go out to lunch with friends or whatever.  So overall we have a good balance, I think.

Then something happens ... in this case my Dad invited me to join LinkedIn.  This is a professional network and as I am not working in a profession I resisted for a long time. Then a fellow hobbyist invited me to join her professional network and I accepted.  So naturally I was curious as to what had happened to my fellow classmates.  OK, now I have a bit of an inferiority complex.  Actually it is less that than the jealousy of how my life might have been.  If I hadn't had two special needs kids would I now be manager of this or senior director of that?  Maybe.  But I might also be divorced as the boys' problems have definitely brought DH and I much closer.  We really have to pull together at times in order to survive.

I read this blog recently (Autism Strains Yet Strengthens a Marriage) and totally understood it.  Yet while reading all the comments below the article I was appalled.  People actually made comments that hinted that these people were living in Hollywood.  They never said their marriage was perfect and nor would I say that about mine.  But the title alone says a lot.  Raising special needs children is a strain but if you work together it can also strengthen a marriage.  But (and this is huge) it takes two people who are committed to making it work.  It can be hard work but with a sense of humor and a heck of a lot of stubbornness, it can happen. 

Sometimes DH and I like to joke that we could never get divorced because we would spend way too much money in a custody battle -- only in our case we would be fighting to give custody to the other person!  A lot of marriages do end in divorce especially when there are special needs kids involved.  Sometimes one parent or the other cannot deal with the special needs and that is really unfortunate.  In general I think parenting is easier when you can tag team and that is even more critical when the children are high maintenance.  

So today while I might wonder what it would be like to be a big shot in the working world, I am also thankful that I don't have to be out there trying to do it all alone.

Getting older is a DRAG!

Getting older (I refuse to say "old") is a drag.  Although it is still better than the alternative, middle age is just weird sometimes.

Being the youngest in my family (with a 10 year age span) has allowed me to never feel "old".  After all, if my sisters aren't "old", how can I possibly be old? 

I also refuse to lie about my age.  Growing up my mom used to always say she was 27.  I was gullible and I believed her until her 40th birthday when some friends put a sign in our front yard.  Of course, she was 32 when I was born.  For some reason I have been a horrible judge of a person's age my entire life.

If I were ever to lie about my age, I think I would do it in reverse.  What if I were to tell you that I am 67 years old?  Don't I look dynamite for 67?!?!  What if I were to tell you I am 27 years old?  I don't look so good for 27.  Because I'm 47.  So I'm not going to lie to make myself sound younger! 

However 47 is pretty smack in the middle of middle age.  Here are some of the most annoying aspects of aging for me:

• Hairs grow out of previously hairless follicles.  I plucked a doozy this morning from the top of the side of my nose (like a runaway eyebrow hair) except it was super pale and it was OVER an inch long.  WTF???  How did I miss that bugger for that long?
• Right.  I can't see anymore.  When your hobby involves looking at small details, this is a really annoying part of aging.
• Hot floods.  Nope, I don't get hot flashes, I get hot floods.  I am always about 3 degrees hotter than I used to be -- and DH already said I had a 2 degree temperature tolerance so this pretty much puts me always out of my comfort zone.  Best of all, my oldest sister had this for about 10 years.  I think I'm on year 3.  Great.  Only seven to go.
• Everything creaks.  When I was little my mom noticed that my one knee ALWAYS popped when I squatted down -- like cracking your knuckles.  I haven't noticed my knee in ages because everything makes noises these days.  Trying to work out is a regular little symphony.
• My entire shape has shifted.  OK, I have 20 extra pounds I would like to shed.  But still.  Eleven years ago I needed to lose 40 pounds and I'm pretty sure I didn't sag as bad then as I do now.  Sigh.
• Then of course, actually losing weight or toning up takes more effort for the same (or lesser) results.  And naturally I have less energy to do the training.

Still life is fun.  When I think about the fact that my older brother died when he was 29, I am pretty happy to have made it to the ripe old age of 47.  I love my husband, kids and this crazy, mixed up thing we call life.  So while I might gripe about some of the less enjoyable aspects of middle age, overall I won't complain too much.  Well I might, but most of you probably wouldn't be able to hear me anyway!

Writer's block

I have a really bad case of creativity block.

Some of this is certainly the fact that summer is here.  I have never been a big fan of warm weather.  Alan is home more and DH is currently on a business trip.  Sigh.

I haven't done much recently with my minis.

I've hardly even cooked much in my new kitchen.

I haven't written anything recently on this blog of which I am particularly happy.  Father's Day is coming up and I haven't even written a good tribute to DH.

So, since today is Thursday, I will take advantage of TBT and re-run my tribute from last year which is probably one of my all time favorite posts anyway.  So Happy Father's Day, DH!

Happy Father's Day, DH!

As regular readers know, I do not refer to my hubby by name, merely as DH.  Lest anyone be confused that does stand for Dear Husband NOT D*%# Husband.

The young and the clueless

DH and I met some 25 years ago and it wasn't exactly love at first sight.  We both thought the other had some goofy traits -- I was concerned about silly things like whether or not his clothes matched (they didn't) and he thought I needed to grow up (I did).  Obviously we did eventually reconcile these little problems.

So fast forward some seven years to Joe's birth.  I know that DH and I were terrified.  I would be hard pressed to say who was more so.  We were both the youngest in our family and although we both had nieces, we really had very limited experience with kids in general and babies in particular.  

We both have a vivid memory of leaving the hospital, getting out to the car with Joe and wondering how the heck did we get the car seat in the car?!?!?!   I am positive that he was not properly restrained for that first short drive.  Then there were diapers.  I think I had changed a grand total of two diapers before Joe was born and I'm pretty sure DH hadn't even changed that many.

I'm sure anyone who has ever cared for a newborn remembers that dreaded "transition" diaper.  That's the one with the consistency, color and smell of rancid tar.  We got Joe's at about 3 in the morning on his first night home.  While trying to clean it up (which took two of us) we were both christened along with the wall and floor of Joe's room -- ah, the special joys of little boys.  I was in so much pain from trying to breastfeed and a difficult birth that all I wanted to do was cry but DH just laughed which made me laugh and like so many things that would come later, he helped me get through.

Joe wasn't always an easy baby.  He would make himself go rigid and thrash like there was no tomorrow, but like many with autism he was the world's cutest toddler.  However, he only had about 10 words until he was almost 3 when we started our own version of ABA so he was definitely a challenge!

DH was always fantastic about coming with me to doctor after doctor and school meeting after school meeting.  I remember when we had home ABA with Joe and DH would make it to most of the team meetings.  Our ABA coordinator told us she didn't even know what most of the dads looked like and here was DH sitting in and contributing in most of the meetings. 

He would take Joe to the pool, the playground and even built a swing-set for him.  (And 14 years later, that swing-set is still in use by the younger child.)  But Dad and Joe are still pals and play tennis, chess and go for bike rides.

But I think what I like best about DH as a father is that he was never upset about the fact that Joe didn't play conventional sports.  We tried both t-ball and soccer when he was younger and they were complete disasters.  But it was never an issue.  I know so many guys that want to live vicariously through their male off-spring and DH was never that way.  He happily took Joe to gymnastics and later piano and bowling.  He taught him how to play tennis and we both taught him to ride a bike (with DH doing more of the running than yours truly!)

He also liked just relaxing and being silly with Joe.

Although he had a little denial before Joe was diagnosed he probably had less than me with Alan.  I was just convinced that lightning did NOT strike twice.  Alan was such a different baby than Joe -- cuddly, amazing eye contact, lots more babbling -- that I did not think he could possibly have autism. 

But once again, with DH's fantastic sense of humor and help, we got through all the sleepless nights, the poop smearing, the B-12 shots in Alan's butt while he slept, the bizarre climbing, the endless "Alan-proofing" of the basement, etc.  

The poor guy even has allergies but when Joe wanted a cat, DH said sure. 

And DH still has some of the ickier jobs with the boys.  He usually ends up taking Alan to the sedation dentist because it takes two males (DH and the doc) along with three nurses to hold him down and give him the initial shot.

And through all this, he remains my best friend and the person most likely to make me laugh.  Overall I couldn't ask for a better husband or Dad to my boyz!  

Love you, babe!

Passing the torch (or maybe the plunger)

For the last several years we have primarily used one respite provider (Nikki) with another (Genni) as a backup.  Both girls are getting married the last Saturday of this June.  This is so unfair.  These girls actually have a life outside of Alan???

Working with Alan in First grade

Ms. Nikki has been part of Alan's life since kindergarten.  She was a para in his kindergarten and first grade classroom.  When we left that school we started utilizing her as a babysitter.  When a new, private school opened in his third grade year we strongly encouraged/recommended Ms. Nikki for the position of assistant teacher.  Unfortunately Alan's OCD really spiraled out of control in sixth grade and we had go to back to the public schools.  Ms. Nikki actually likes her job at the private school and is still there. 

When we first got him his iPad he wanted nothing to do with it.  In an effort to encourage him to use it, Ms. Nikki gave him some private lessons.  For so many things, she has always been there for us anytime we've asked.

But the time has come to pass the torch (or in our house, maybe it is the plunger) and we need to find some new folks to watch Alan. So we've been trying to interview/utilize a few new babysitters.  Of course, DH's first comment was "They need to be old and ugly so they don't go and get married on us."  Um, pretty sure that is NOT something we can ask when we phone interview these people.

Luckily one lady that we know and trust (she is Alan's companion on camp weekends) has come through for us and is planning to watch him so we can actually attend Nikki's wedding.  (No, we aren't planning to bring Joe.)  Even though Nikki has assured us she will still be available to watch Alan after she is married, we are realistic enough to realize that her availability will be less.  Gosh forbid she actually have a "cupcake" (her nickname for Alan) of her own.

Ms. Nikki supporting the bike so Alan could ride

But back to the screening process.  Even though Alan is rarely violent I did put that he could be "violent occasionally" in my "feeler" e-mails that I sent out to several people.  The one person that contacted me within 10 minutes thought it was funny that I put that in.  She said most people didn't tell you that up front.  Seriously?  Who wants to surprise a provider with that?

In any case we are supposed to meet the new person today.  Minutes before she was scheduled to arrive we were plunging one of the toilets while the other boy was in a different bathroom.  Maybe instead of asking about their autism experience we should ask them about how good they are with a plunger.  Sigh.

TBT - Do ya feel lucky?

Welcome to Julie's Boyz' version of Throw Back Thursday -- Blog Style (TBT-BS: got to love that acronym!)  I am taking Thursdays to rerun some of my older blog posts.  This one originally ran on March 27, 2013.

An assortment of "free time" pics for Alan's iPad from March 2013

Do ya feel lucky?

When I was younger, my mom used to always call me her "good luck charm".  I did seem to win an inordinate amount of random drawings.

On our honeymoon, DH and I went to Bahamas which is a big gambling place.  We both came very quickly to the twin conclusions that we were not particularly lucky and we really hated losing our hard earned money in a game of chance.

When our first baby was born, people were still throwing around numbers like 1 in 10,000 for autism so our knowledge of autism was next to nil.  Of course to add insult to injury, Rain Man had only come out a few years earlier so what knowledge we had was skewed as well.

Of course by the time Joe was diagnosed they were using numbers like 1 in 5000 but still I had several people assure me that it didn't run in families.  If I knew then what I know now, I would probably have stopped there and I also think I would have been a better mother.

I was reading Stuart Duncan yesterday and while I normally love his blog, yesterday's post just grated on me.  In Don't fear autism and certainly do not fear your own child he says basically that parents are not having children because they fear autism.  He says we should instead reassure prospective parents.

Reassure them that they most babies are born healthy?  I think they know this.  I think if anyone is not having a child because they are afraid their child would have autism, they are simply not the gambling type.

In the case of subsequent children once one is diagnosed, personally I think this a good thing.  When you are at a high risk for something you should be allowed to consider whether that risk is personally worth it.

When this generation of autistic children reaches adulthood, they will put a hell of an additional strain on the economy since most of them will not be functioning members of society.  If the 1 in 50 number is truly accurate, then at least 1 child in 50 will also need to have a career that focuses on the care of autistic adults.  That just boggles the mind.

Yes it is very possible (98% possible) that you will have a neurotypical child.  But a 2% risk to forever alter your life requires very careful consideration.

Could you be a good parent to a special needs child? 

Maybe these prospective parents know they are too selfish to give up their whole lifestyle forever if their child is severe.  Maybe mom and dad are both very into their careers and know that they could not make all the meetings that would be required.  Maybe they are struggling financially and have heard how costly it is to have a child with special needs.  Maybe their marriage is already rocky and the idea of raising a special needs child single-handed is daunting.

That is a choice.  Maybe they are just not gamblers.

Guerrilla warfare or why I appreciate teachers

As a mom to special needs kiddos, I guarantee you that I appreciate teachers more than your average parent -- even more than a parent who happens to teach.  I love my boyz but some days (especially Sundays), I tend to count the hours until Alan returns to school.  It is just emotionally draining at times.  I am unbelievably cut off from family and friends.

Even though I have teenagers, I can't leave them alone in the house for even the half hour it would take to run to the grocery store.  I have been known to put a video on for Luke and run up to the grocery store to pick up milk or prescriptions and I am wracked with guilt the entire time.  What if he climbs somewhere he is not supposed to climb?  What if he falls and hurts himself?  What if he opens a window and climbs out on the roof?  The first two have happened repeatedly and although the last one hasn't happened (yet) it is certainly within the realm of possibility.

Now that Joe is driving, I can at least send him to the store, but there are certain things he is not capable of doing.  He won't use our medical flexible spending card.  He certainly will not look for the best deal when it comes to picking out soup, crackers, eggs, apples, etc.  He won't buy any sort of produce unless it is something he will eat.  Even though I have tried to show him how to pick out assorted veggies and meats, he is not comfortable buying them.  Luckily I have some pretty fantastic neighbors who have been known to share an egg or an onion occasionally.

As always, DH helps immeasurably.   But one of us always has to be on "Alan duty".  24/7/365  So when DH has to work on the weekends (it happens when you work for a utility!), or wants an afternoon off to work out, play a game with friends or even go see a movie by himself, that means I am on duty.  Don't get me wrong, I do NOT begrudge him that time, just like he does not begrudge me the time I spend on miniatures during the school days.  We both need that time "away".  But for the person responsible for Alan, it is "duty".

In many ways dealing with Alan is like guerrilla warfare.  According to Wikipedia, "Guerrilla warfare is a form of irregular warfare in which a small group of combatants such as armed civilians or irregulars use military tactics including ambushes, sabotage, raids, petty warfare, hit-and-run tactics, and mobility to fight a larger and less-mobile traditional military."

That pretty much sums it up.  Alan ambushes, sabotages, fights petty battles and is infinitely more mobile.  DH and I are still larger (albeit not for much longer), less-mobile and traditional.

Most of our "battles" are small.  But they are frustrating.  Sunday morning Alan was whiny.  I didn't know if the lack of structure was starting to get to him or what.  Finally in desperation I gave him an ibuprofen early in the afternoon.  Guess what?  He calmed down and was a doll the rest of the day.  Poor kid.  Something was hurting on him, but he couldn't tell me what.  All I had to go on was a whiny kid.  Very frustrating!

But all these little things only highlight why I appreciate teachers.  Teaching is truly a vocation.  At the start of summer vacation, I am sitting here appreciating his teachers every moment.

TBT - Mischief Mode

Ha!  I found this post when I was looking for my TBT (Throwback Thursday) post and had to laugh.  This post originally ran during Spring Break of 2013.  Today is the start of "summer vacation" for Alan.  Of course, in reality he starts summer school next Monday so it is only a few days, but I could totally relate to this anyway.  We also have the fun of a haircut scheduled for tomorrow -- DH is taking a half day of vacation to help us break this rut.  Say a prayer that it will help.  Have a great weekend, readers!

Mischief mode

By the time Spring Break is over for the boys, I will probably weigh 300 pounds.

 
I'm a "stress" eater.  I've always known this.  When I am blissfully happy, I forget to eat.  For some unknown reason I haven't done that in years. 

This week is especially tough because all Alan wants to do is go out to eat lunch -- and we all know that fast food is sooooooooo good for you.
 
Meanwhile, Alan no longer likes to go to the zoo or the park or anything remotely like this.  So after taking him out to lunch, he climbs and gets into mischief and I eat.  And it is only Wednesday. 

DH was hoping to take a few days off work to help me out but he is having problems and vacation isn't a great thing at the moment.  We are still hopeful that will change tomorrow or Friday.

We had to get rid of all our home workout equipment because Alan liked to climb on it (that is a bit hard on an elliptical or a weight machine) and so I don't have any easy way to work out here at home.

I had some faint hopes before Spring Break that I could race up to the gym and do a fast workout and leave Joe in charge of Alan but unfortunately for that plan, Alan has been in mischief mode this week.

Alan knows what he is allowed to do outside.  Really, I think we are pretty darn lenient about that but we do draw a few lines.

We do not allow him to climb on the neighbors' swing set.  While he is unlikely to fall, 160 lb kid could easily break something.  And, if he does fall and hurt himself, I am sure they would come up with some way to sue us for that.

We also do not allow him to climb over our deck rails.  We have reinforced all the rails but still don't think that is a good thing.  We also don't allow him to climb the siding of our house.  And yes, he has tried to do all of these things especially when he gets in mischief mode.

He is actually sort of entertaining to watch when he gets into mischief mode.  He goes outside and looks over his shoulder to see if I am watching.  When he sees that I am, he happily walks over to the tree or the swing-set and climbs and plays.  Then he casually glances over his shoulder and studies the sliding glass door and any of the windows in which he has seen me watching him.  If he doesn't spot me he scampers off to one of the places he knows he's not allowed to climb and starts climbing.

Yesterday was a fairly pleasant day so I figured I would take my book and read outside while he climbed.  That worked for awhile and then I went inside and as soon as I went away from the windows to do something mundane like laundry or dishes, he struck!  I came back to find him hanging on the railing from the outside of our deck.  Grrrrrrrrr

After a time out, he wanted to go outside again so I followed him out with my trusty book.  I got a deck chair set up and ... he decided to go back inside.  I put away the deck chair and followed him and ... he decided to go back outside so I followed him and then he gave up and decided to play inside for a little while.  Thank goodness for small favors. 

Of course, being inside makes it easier for me to eat.  There is always a downside.

The haircut from h&%$

Last night Alan got his hair cut.  We've been going to the same kid friendly hair salon for more years than I care to remember.  Even though Alan is taller than most of the hair stylists, they just smile and say "come on in!"

The last 3-4 visits have been HELL.  There is really no other word to describe them.  Alan gets in the car willingly enough and even gets out of the car at the hair salon fine.  He goes inside and starts stalling but still nothing major.  He has to use the restroom and agonize over which video to watch (but he always selects Shrek) and then he even sits in the chair and gets the cape on with only a yell or two.  And then all hell breaks loose.

He stands up and sits down so often and so fast that the poor Ali has to cut his hair a swipe at a time.  We've tried holding him in the chair.  We've brought his iPad but he wants nothing to do with it.  Last night I even tried sitting on him and he threw me on the floor (so much for deep pressure).  I've tried bribing him with his favorite Skittles (they were also thrown on the floor) and last night I even brought a copy of his current favorite video (hoping he would pick that instead of Shrek) but no luck.  Sometimes Ali cuts a swipe or two while he is sitting on the floor, but then he stands up.  He moves incredibly fast.  Of course, when he is getting ready for school he moves incredibly slow but that is another story.  He is so strong he was tipping over the chair!  I actually thought the darn things were anchored but apparently not. 

I am guessing it is a sensory thing, but it never used to bother him.  It is only the last few haircuts that have been a problem. Of course as soon as it is finished he's fine.  I'm covered with hair, shaky and exhausted but he just sits on a bench eating his sucker while I pay.  Sigh.

DH suggested that next time we try to cut his hair at home (I already do Joe's and DH's).  Who knows how that will turn out?  Ali actually does a fantastic job.  It is a darn good hair cut -- except for the experience!

The kitchen is finished!

Although we've been talking (seriously) about remodeling our kitchen for a couple of years now, there were times that I never thought I'd be able to make this statement.  The kitchen is finished!  It looks great and there are only a few minor things I would do differently if I were redoing things.  We are all still getting used to things, but it is so fun.

The biggest change came in ripping down these overhead cabinets.

The darn things just made it really hard to see people on the other side of the same room.

The other big structural change was removing the wall oven.

It really cut into our front hall.  This is the old view from the front hall.

And here is the new view from the front hall.

Pretty different, huh?

I also got this gorgeous garden window.

After all, with my notable brown thumb, I should be able to kill plants in style, now!

The old pantry was actually pretty nice.  It had all these lovely pull out organizing drawers inside.

But Alan never (and I mean never) left the doors closed. This picture had to have been taken when he was upstairs, outside or not home.

Here is what the pantry became ...

The phone table actually matches the new cabinets pretty darn well.  We won't even have to replace it!

The floor turned out to be the best thing since sliced bread.  It matches the hall, the countertops, the living room and dining room walls and carpet and of course the new kitchen walls and cabinets.  We never dreamed it would be so flexible.

One of the few minor drawbacks is that the table is smaller than our old table.  We can fit four chairs around it to eat, but we can't keep them all pushed in at the same time.  Since DH busted Diesel on top of the table one morning we've been putting one chair in the family room when we are not using it to keep the fuzzbutt off the table.


And finally, here is the old view from the garage door entrance ...

And here is the new view.

It is just so open and bright!  I love it.  I still need to figure out what (if anything) I am going to do in the way of window treatments, but the kitchen is finished.  (I love being able to say that! -- can you tell?)