For all of the trials and challenges kids on The Spectrum have socially there is one really unique and spectacular thing a lot of these special kids have in common, they don't really see the difference between 'celebrities' or 'the popular people' and 'regular' people. To them everyone is the same. We're all just people. To them, everyone deserves to be respected and heard on the basis of who they are ... social standing has nothing to do with anything. That's why, I think, there are so many stories of these kids doing extraordinary things, fearlessly asking for what they desire, because they don't feel the same social constraints that most of us 'normal' people do.
Neuro-typical people (NT, 'normal' folks) tend to put people in a hierarchy of popularity or success. We do it subconsciously most of the time. We meet someone, hear about what they do for a living, see how they are dressed or hear of their accomplishments and we score them. Subsequent people we meet get scored and mentally placed in order. Its this societal order that gives us the jitters when we are interacting with someone 'above' our score or place in the world but since people on the Autism Spectrum don't understand social subtleties, like pecking orders, they can move against the grain, outside of the bonds of what is expected. They can, and do, just look at the individual for who and what they are.
The most remarkable thing about this free-floating socializing is the way people respond to it. Because there is so obviously no guile, ulterior motives or other questionable strings attached to these interactions the requests or invitations of friendship extended to the 'celebrity' is often accepted at face value. Most people see the honest interest and respond in a completely open way.
I have seen and heard stories of these amazing kids being welcomed on to sports teams, movie sets, university research labs and even the White House ... just because they asked. They have seen someone or something that has interested them and they have taken that leap of faith that so many of us would avoid. They have assumed that people are just people and if they are able to say 'yes' they will and if they can't, its nothing personal. There is very little fear of rejection in these moments and it is a magical thing to see.
Admittedly, there is some frustration, heartache and disappointment that goes along with this kind of openness but more times than not I have seen and heard of amazing opportunities open up just because one little kid with Autism asked.
Here are a couple of links to articles and a video that depicts exactly what I'm talking about ... take a minute to read about one of the few perks of being socially unaware!
Did you hear the one about the Autistic kid and Jeff Dunham?
For the Love of the Game
I've shown this video before ... but it never gets old!
There are so many things that I am proud of Dude for doing and being but nothing touches my heart more than when he sees and responds to a person rather than a position or a status. I love how he sees opportunity for friendship and learning in every person he meets and most of all, I love how he honours the unique and special in each of his friends because to him, "we are all just people but we are all so different and I like that about us."
“The essence of our effort to see that every child has a chance must be to assure each an equal opportunity, not to become equal, but to become different - to realize whatever unique potential of body, mind and spirit he or she possesses”
John Fischer quotes
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Monday, September 26, 2011
Big C and little c
We found out several weeks ago but we've been processing things and trying to figure out what this all means for him, for us, for our future, for our family. We've all bounced back and forth between hope and fear, optimism and dread, disbelief and harsh reality. We have lived in the land of uncertainty, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst ... whatever that is.
The early days after the diagnosis were stressful. We knew very little other than the lump Dad had removed was a tumour after all and he needed more tests. All we knew for sure was that Dad had cancer and cancer is bad.
We all experienced some complicated emotions in the weeks that followed as Dad went for more tests, scans and doctor's appointments, while we were waiting to find out exactly what we're dealing with. What I realised in those long, drawn out weeks is that the doctor can't tell us what we're dealing with. He can tell us what type of lymphoma my dad has, what the recommended course of treatment is and what the prognosis is, generally but he can't tell US what WE are dealing with. Only we know that answer.
I don't know exactly what my parents, my sister or my extended family was dealing with, I could make a pretty good guess based on their reactions, but I couldn't tell you exactly. I can only tell you what I was and still am dealing with. I have dealt with disbelief, anger, frustration, fear and denial. Dealt with. I discovered a couple of weeks ago that I can't live with those things, I can't live in them. All of the negative emotions, the fear based thoughts and reactions, drain my strength, my perspective and kill my hope and it is hope that I need.
This is such a complicated thing to write about, to live through. This isn't our first dance with cancer though. My mom had cervical cancer when I was ten years old. And although I don't remember much from that time in our life I do remember my mom's friend, Helen, saying good night to me on the night of my mom's surgery and telling me that hope is the thing we hold on to when it seems like we're all alone. Hope is the thing we know for sure.
There is no protocol for how you should feel about this kind of diagnosis, how best to process and deal with the threat of Pain, Suffering and Death looming at your doorstep. No one can tell you definitively that if you do This, This and This then the cancer will go away, your fear will flee and your life will be filled with butterflies and rainbows. There is no guidebook for this and I am not qualified to write one but I will tell you that right now, in the middle of this little c story with Big C, that hope is the thing.
I don't know what comes next for my dad, we're told we just have to wait and see for now, but I know that the thing that will sustain us, that will carry us, that will protect us is hope. Hope and Faith.
Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen.
~Hebrew 11:1
Friday, September 23, 2011
What a Teacher Makes
I found this video last year and fell in love with it. I love that Taylor Mali, the poet who wrote these words and passionately speaks them, 'gets' the value, the purpose, of his role as a teacher.
I emailed this video link to the principals at my kids' schools along with the paragraph that follows, asking them to show this video to the staff ... feel free to do the same because even teachers need to know that they are seen, valued and honoured.
As a parent I want you to know that I honour you for the job you do each day ... that I respect you for the choice you made to make a difference rather than just make a buck. I am indebted to you for caring enough about my kids to correct them, instruct them and guide them every day. I love you for the extra time and effort you put into making your lessons interesting and engaging, the extra time that no one sees and you don't get credit for. I take comfort in knowing that this isn't 'just a job' for you or your colleagues, these wonderful, committed, caring and creative teachers, EAs, admin staff and custodians ... this is a life choice that has meaning. I want you to know that the moments you spend speaking into the lives of the kids who roam those halls every day will echo in eternity. I want you to know that I, as a parent, am grateful for you.
The dream begins with a teacher who believes in you, who tugs and pushes and leads you to the next plateau, sometimes poking you with a sharp stick called "truth."
~Dan Rather
I emailed this video link to the principals at my kids' schools along with the paragraph that follows, asking them to show this video to the staff ... feel free to do the same because even teachers need to know that they are seen, valued and honoured.
As a parent I want you to know that I honour you for the job you do each day ... that I respect you for the choice you made to make a difference rather than just make a buck. I am indebted to you for caring enough about my kids to correct them, instruct them and guide them every day. I love you for the extra time and effort you put into making your lessons interesting and engaging, the extra time that no one sees and you don't get credit for. I take comfort in knowing that this isn't 'just a job' for you or your colleagues, these wonderful, committed, caring and creative teachers, EAs, admin staff and custodians ... this is a life choice that has meaning. I want you to know that the moments you spend speaking into the lives of the kids who roam those halls every day will echo in eternity. I want you to know that I, as a parent, am grateful for you.
The dream begins with a teacher who believes in you, who tugs and pushes and leads you to the next plateau, sometimes poking you with a sharp stick called "truth."
~Dan Rather
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Notes on Potty Training Boys
I spent some time recently with a friend of mine who is in the midst of potty training her son. Although I am well past those hectic days of potty runs and near misses I can clearly remember the stress and frustration that went along with those potty training days. Changing diapers wasn't my favourite thing to do but it wasn't the worst either. The worst was continually being on high alert in case of a potty emergency. The worst was scouting out bathrooms everywhere we went, asking 'do you need the potty?' every five minutes and doing a mad dash across church, malls and parks while carrying your crying, peeing toddler as onlookers gawk and try to avoid the stream of urine you leave streaming behind you.
That was the worst.
Each of my kids learned the potty thing in their own time and in their own way but I have to say that potty training a boy is a different thing all together than training a girl. I don't think one gender is easier than the other, just different. Here are a few notes for those of you about to or in the midst of potty training your boy. These are lessons I've learned the hard way ... I hope you'll have an easier 'go' of things!
1. The Gravity of the Situation - One morning I met my friends at Tim Horton's for a coffee before we took our kids over to the library for story time. As my pal was in line, placing her order, her little guy, Robbie started doing the pee pee dance. I offered to take the newly potty trained, three year old Robbie to the bathroom. Once we were in the stall he told me that he was a 'sitter' so I helped him up onto the toilet and asked him if he was good to go, he gave me the thumbs up and let it loose.
What happened next was something I had never experienced before in all my years of babysitting, nannying and motherhood. Robbie turned into Old Faithful. A golden stream of urine was jetting out from between his legs and splattering all over me and him and the bathroom stall. Not knowing what to do, I picked the still peeing Robbie up, flipped him over and pointed his rogue stream toward the toilet.
LESSON LEARNED ... What goes up must come down and gravity can only get you so far when you are dealing with boy parts. Point the pee-pee down before you let it fly!
2. The Standing vs. Sitting Debate - By the time Dude was three and a half he could construct impressive Lego buildings, identify more than a dozen different types of dinosaurs and knew every line from every Veggie Tales video made at the time. He was smart, there was no disputing that, but the boy could not figure out that whole potty thing.
I had a friend who had four sons and she trained them all to sit when they peed, she said it was easier and there was far less mess. So, trusting her experience and wishing to avoid the dreaded pee-pee mess, I attempted to train Dude the same way. No dice. He hated sitting on the potty, he thought the splash cone was going to cut his penis and he didn't like the feel of the seat. Once we did finally fight/bribe him to sit down on the potty he had no idea what he was expected to do there.
One day Mr. Awesome said that enough was enough and he took the kid into the bathroom with him and shut the door, it was a 'No Mommy Zone.' I busied myself in the kitchen while the boys did their thing. After a couple of minutes I heard Little Dude exclaim, "That's what I do?!" A 'stander' was created and the rest is history.
LESSON LEARNED ... Seeing is better than telling and Lysol wipes are invaluable when you have a three year old 'stander'.
3. The Perils of Number 2 - The problem with teaching your boy to be a 'stander' is that not all things can be done standing. About two months after Dude mastered the art of peeing we went on vacation. At this point he was still letting us know when he had to Go 2 so we could help him but one morning, while staying at my cousin's house, he decided he could do it himself. Mr. Awesome and I were laying on the bed with the bathroom door open so we could help him if he needed it but we soon got distracted with Baby Crafty. It wasn't until I happened to glance over to see if Dude was done yet that I realised we had a problem. While Dude was standing to pee he had made a little 2 Pile. That was a one time event, an accident, but with Mischief it was a whole different ball game!
Mischief would not Go 2 on the potty. He has always been a PJ boy, and his M.O. for dealing with The 2 was to hide in closets or behind furniture to do his thing and then tell us he went 'somewhere'. We would then have to call a 'Poop Hunt' and everyone would search all of his favourite spots until someone found the deposit so it could be cleaned up. This phase lasted for a couple of months until we 'consequenced' it out of him (he had to get dressed with underwear and button up pants everyday until this Go 2 on the Go stopped ... a fate worse than death for The PJ Kid!).
LESSON LEARNED ... Sitting has its perks and Lysol wipes are invaluable when you have a three year old Poop Runner.
4. The Attention Deficit Dilemma - The best thing about potty training Mischief is that once we got the Go 2 under control, life was a breeze. Right from the start this kid has had amazing bladder capacity. We could spend an afternoon running errands without having to stop for a bathroom break once! Its actually quite impressive. The problem came when we got home and he finally 'went'. His bladder capacity was greater than his ability to stay focused resulting in frequent incidents of spillage.
We tried everything! Cheerios in the toilet, pictures on the wall, more frequent potty stops ... nothing worked. The boy had the Austin Powers Pee Gene and the attention span of a goldfish and there was nothing we could do about it. We would walk by the bathroom in the morning and see the kid leaning against the wall, peeing while looking more bored than you could imagine. We would hear him occasionally exclaim, 'Why is this taking so long?!' but there's nothing we could do until we tapped into his competitive side.
We had him start counting how long each pee took and asking him if he had broken his last record yet. That way he was practising his counting and staying focused on the task at hand, so to speak.
LESSON LEARNED ... Boys will compete for any title and Lysol wipes are invaluable when you have a three year old Pee Champion.
5. We Don't Do That Here! - The one perk to potty training that the boys picked up on right away was the freedom to Go anywhere, anytime. Almost. In those early Diaper Free days, (Who are we kidding? We still have these conversations from time to time!) we had to have frequent chats about the appropriateness of where and when. A tree in Auntie Char's country yard is okay, the display toilets in Home Depot are not okay. A mile road during a five hour drive is okay, Pier One parking lot on a pre-Christmas Saturday afternoon is not okay. A ditch on the way to the lake is okay, the garden in front of the school is not okay.
We also had to have a talk about how many streams can reasonably flow into the same toilet at the same time. Before Mischief started school my friends and I would meet at each other's houses for coffee after we dropped the older kids off at school on Friday mornings. The moms would sit around and chat over coffee and the kids (mostly boys) would super hero their way around the house for a couple of hours.
At one such coffee morning we noticed that the house was unnaturally quiet. My friend went to investigate what the boys were up to. Turns out they were attempting a group pee session. She broke up the pee party and told the boys they'd have to take turns. In case you're wondering an average toilet can handle three pee streams fine, four is inviting a mess!
LESSON LEARNED ... Lysol wipes are invaluable when you have a three year old boy ... PERIOD!
The way i figure it, peer pressure will get to them in Junior High and then they'll use the toilet. Until then I'm not going to worry about it too much.
~Some Random Mother
That was the worst.
Each of my kids learned the potty thing in their own time and in their own way but I have to say that potty training a boy is a different thing all together than training a girl. I don't think one gender is easier than the other, just different. Here are a few notes for those of you about to or in the midst of potty training your boy. These are lessons I've learned the hard way ... I hope you'll have an easier 'go' of things!
1. The Gravity of the Situation - One morning I met my friends at Tim Horton's for a coffee before we took our kids over to the library for story time. As my pal was in line, placing her order, her little guy, Robbie started doing the pee pee dance. I offered to take the newly potty trained, three year old Robbie to the bathroom. Once we were in the stall he told me that he was a 'sitter' so I helped him up onto the toilet and asked him if he was good to go, he gave me the thumbs up and let it loose.
What happened next was something I had never experienced before in all my years of babysitting, nannying and motherhood. Robbie turned into Old Faithful. A golden stream of urine was jetting out from between his legs and splattering all over me and him and the bathroom stall. Not knowing what to do, I picked the still peeing Robbie up, flipped him over and pointed his rogue stream toward the toilet.
LESSON LEARNED ... What goes up must come down and gravity can only get you so far when you are dealing with boy parts. Point the pee-pee down before you let it fly!
2. The Standing vs. Sitting Debate - By the time Dude was three and a half he could construct impressive Lego buildings, identify more than a dozen different types of dinosaurs and knew every line from every Veggie Tales video made at the time. He was smart, there was no disputing that, but the boy could not figure out that whole potty thing.
I had a friend who had four sons and she trained them all to sit when they peed, she said it was easier and there was far less mess. So, trusting her experience and wishing to avoid the dreaded pee-pee mess, I attempted to train Dude the same way. No dice. He hated sitting on the potty, he thought the splash cone was going to cut his penis and he didn't like the feel of the seat. Once we did finally fight/bribe him to sit down on the potty he had no idea what he was expected to do there.
One day Mr. Awesome said that enough was enough and he took the kid into the bathroom with him and shut the door, it was a 'No Mommy Zone.' I busied myself in the kitchen while the boys did their thing. After a couple of minutes I heard Little Dude exclaim, "That's what I do?!" A 'stander' was created and the rest is history.
LESSON LEARNED ... Seeing is better than telling and Lysol wipes are invaluable when you have a three year old 'stander'.
3. The Perils of Number 2 - The problem with teaching your boy to be a 'stander' is that not all things can be done standing. About two months after Dude mastered the art of peeing we went on vacation. At this point he was still letting us know when he had to Go 2 so we could help him but one morning, while staying at my cousin's house, he decided he could do it himself. Mr. Awesome and I were laying on the bed with the bathroom door open so we could help him if he needed it but we soon got distracted with Baby Crafty. It wasn't until I happened to glance over to see if Dude was done yet that I realised we had a problem. While Dude was standing to pee he had made a little 2 Pile. That was a one time event, an accident, but with Mischief it was a whole different ball game!
Mischief would not Go 2 on the potty. He has always been a PJ boy, and his M.O. for dealing with The 2 was to hide in closets or behind furniture to do his thing and then tell us he went 'somewhere'. We would then have to call a 'Poop Hunt' and everyone would search all of his favourite spots until someone found the deposit so it could be cleaned up. This phase lasted for a couple of months until we 'consequenced' it out of him (he had to get dressed with underwear and button up pants everyday until this Go 2 on the Go stopped ... a fate worse than death for The PJ Kid!).
LESSON LEARNED ... Sitting has its perks and Lysol wipes are invaluable when you have a three year old Poop Runner.
4. The Attention Deficit Dilemma - The best thing about potty training Mischief is that once we got the Go 2 under control, life was a breeze. Right from the start this kid has had amazing bladder capacity. We could spend an afternoon running errands without having to stop for a bathroom break once! Its actually quite impressive. The problem came when we got home and he finally 'went'. His bladder capacity was greater than his ability to stay focused resulting in frequent incidents of spillage.
We tried everything! Cheerios in the toilet, pictures on the wall, more frequent potty stops ... nothing worked. The boy had the Austin Powers Pee Gene and the attention span of a goldfish and there was nothing we could do about it. We would walk by the bathroom in the morning and see the kid leaning against the wall, peeing while looking more bored than you could imagine. We would hear him occasionally exclaim, 'Why is this taking so long?!' but there's nothing we could do until we tapped into his competitive side.
We had him start counting how long each pee took and asking him if he had broken his last record yet. That way he was practising his counting and staying focused on the task at hand, so to speak.
LESSON LEARNED ... Boys will compete for any title and Lysol wipes are invaluable when you have a three year old Pee Champion.
5. We Don't Do That Here! - The one perk to potty training that the boys picked up on right away was the freedom to Go anywhere, anytime. Almost. In those early Diaper Free days, (Who are we kidding? We still have these conversations from time to time!) we had to have frequent chats about the appropriateness of where and when. A tree in Auntie Char's country yard is okay, the display toilets in Home Depot are not okay. A mile road during a five hour drive is okay, Pier One parking lot on a pre-Christmas Saturday afternoon is not okay. A ditch on the way to the lake is okay, the garden in front of the school is not okay.
We also had to have a talk about how many streams can reasonably flow into the same toilet at the same time. Before Mischief started school my friends and I would meet at each other's houses for coffee after we dropped the older kids off at school on Friday mornings. The moms would sit around and chat over coffee and the kids (mostly boys) would super hero their way around the house for a couple of hours.
At one such coffee morning we noticed that the house was unnaturally quiet. My friend went to investigate what the boys were up to. Turns out they were attempting a group pee session. She broke up the pee party and told the boys they'd have to take turns. In case you're wondering an average toilet can handle three pee streams fine, four is inviting a mess!
LESSON LEARNED ... Lysol wipes are invaluable when you have a three year old boy ... PERIOD!
The way i figure it, peer pressure will get to them in Junior High and then they'll use the toilet. Until then I'm not going to worry about it too much.
~Some Random Mother
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Here's to the Working Girls!
I haven't been around here much lately because I'm working. I am covering a reception gig while someone is on vacation. Its half days and everyone in the office is great. I'm really enjoying myself.
When I accepted the job I thought, 'Halfdays, no big deal. I can work in the mornings and do all my regular stuff in the afternoons. Easy!' Wrong! Its not easy and I must applaud you working moms.
I am only a week into working and already we are starving, have no clean clothes and live in a house that's a step away from being a hoarder's paradise. I can't remember the last time I did a load of laundry, went grocery shopping or cleaned a bathroom. Our front entrance has become a graveyard of school papers, broken jackets and lunchtime leftovers and don't even get me started on the condition of my kitchen!
I know that the world is full of working parents who balance home life and work life but I've never had to do it, I have no system and frankly my family is less than helpful with picking up the slack. I have the stay-at-home mom thing down pretty well. I have a routine, a schedule and I'm pretty good at juggling the things that go along with being a SAH but this working thing is a totally different monster!
There is a pay off with both and a definite downside to both as well. As a SAH I have a few hours to myself everyday. True, I have to fill those solitary hours with glamorous tasks like grocery shopping, laundry and bathroom cleaning but at least its quiet and I can get things done. the downside is that domestic chores don't give me that much fulfillment, I get lonely for adult contact and my days can stretch out before me like a desert wasteland of sameness if I don't actively pursue opportunities to volunteer and participate in things I enjoy.
As a working girl I get to be with adults, have real meaningful conversations and have a real sense of accomplishment at the end of the day. I get to wear nice clothes, use my brain on something more than Lego assembly and I have something interesting to talk about at the end of the day. The negative to this duel track working mom life is that after a day of working I still have all the regular mom stuff to do but with less time and more interruptions.
My mom was a working mom for most of my growing up years and more than that she also was a part time student for many years. I remember her spending her evenings and weekends juggling studying with being a mom and although I was too young to think of it then as an adult I have often wondered how she did it. How did she do everything?
In the edges of my memories I can see the secret to her success ... my dad. He cooked, cleaned, took us to the park, made sure the school notes were signed and lunches made when my mom couldn't. He tucked us in at night and woke us up in the morning. He did so much of the day to day stuff so that when mom had a few minutes where she wasn't working or studying she was able to spend it with us ... just being our mom. He was the first Mr. Awesome.
My Mr. Awesome has been unbelievable these last couple of weeks. Not only has he been doing all of his regular Awesomeness but he has also gone above and beyond. He has helped me to plan and execute a major fundraiser and a huge school event. He has BBQed for a couple of hundred people, ran a zillion errands, picked kids up, dropped them off, made lunches, cooked dinner and a thousand other little things. he has made me look good these last few weeks ... well, these last 14 years, to tell the truth.
He's my pal, my partner and the reason I can do all I do ... thanks, Mr. Awesome!
So here's to the Working Girls and all the Mr. Awesomes who pitch in, pick up the slack and are man enough to be a domestic goddess! Here's to us!
When I accepted the job I thought, 'Halfdays, no big deal. I can work in the mornings and do all my regular stuff in the afternoons. Easy!' Wrong! Its not easy and I must applaud you working moms.
I am only a week into working and already we are starving, have no clean clothes and live in a house that's a step away from being a hoarder's paradise. I can't remember the last time I did a load of laundry, went grocery shopping or cleaned a bathroom. Our front entrance has become a graveyard of school papers, broken jackets and lunchtime leftovers and don't even get me started on the condition of my kitchen!
I know that the world is full of working parents who balance home life and work life but I've never had to do it, I have no system and frankly my family is less than helpful with picking up the slack. I have the stay-at-home mom thing down pretty well. I have a routine, a schedule and I'm pretty good at juggling the things that go along with being a SAH but this working thing is a totally different monster!
There is a pay off with both and a definite downside to both as well. As a SAH I have a few hours to myself everyday. True, I have to fill those solitary hours with glamorous tasks like grocery shopping, laundry and bathroom cleaning but at least its quiet and I can get things done. the downside is that domestic chores don't give me that much fulfillment, I get lonely for adult contact and my days can stretch out before me like a desert wasteland of sameness if I don't actively pursue opportunities to volunteer and participate in things I enjoy.
As a working girl I get to be with adults, have real meaningful conversations and have a real sense of accomplishment at the end of the day. I get to wear nice clothes, use my brain on something more than Lego assembly and I have something interesting to talk about at the end of the day. The negative to this duel track working mom life is that after a day of working I still have all the regular mom stuff to do but with less time and more interruptions.
My mom was a working mom for most of my growing up years and more than that she also was a part time student for many years. I remember her spending her evenings and weekends juggling studying with being a mom and although I was too young to think of it then as an adult I have often wondered how she did it. How did she do everything?
In the edges of my memories I can see the secret to her success ... my dad. He cooked, cleaned, took us to the park, made sure the school notes were signed and lunches made when my mom couldn't. He tucked us in at night and woke us up in the morning. He did so much of the day to day stuff so that when mom had a few minutes where she wasn't working or studying she was able to spend it with us ... just being our mom. He was the first Mr. Awesome.
My Mr. Awesome has been unbelievable these last couple of weeks. Not only has he been doing all of his regular Awesomeness but he has also gone above and beyond. He has helped me to plan and execute a major fundraiser and a huge school event. He has BBQed for a couple of hundred people, ran a zillion errands, picked kids up, dropped them off, made lunches, cooked dinner and a thousand other little things. he has made me look good these last few weeks ... well, these last 14 years, to tell the truth.
He's my pal, my partner and the reason I can do all I do ... thanks, Mr. Awesome!
So here's to the Working Girls and all the Mr. Awesomes who pitch in, pick up the slack and are man enough to be a domestic goddess! Here's to us!
Thursday, September 15, 2011
What Doesn't Change
Here's the deal, Crafty was assessed by a doctor a few weeks ago and she is on the Autism Spectrum. Crafty has Asperger's.
There. I've said it. I don't know why but in the days following the assessment and diagnosis I was nervous, scared for her, for me. I was worried that this little word, this diagnosis that I know so well, was going to change things for Crafty.
It's a funny thing, this diagnosis, it changes absolutely nothing about who she is but yet somehow it does. When Dude was diagnosed four years ago it came as a relief, like an answer to the world's most puzzling mystery, "What is wrong with my kid?!" Turns out nothing was wrong with him, he just has Asperger's. With Dude the diagnosis was a direction of travel, it was really no big deal. So why was I having such a tough time processing all of this with Crafty?
All of a sudden, I was worrying about things I've never worried about when it comes to my girl. I worried about her friends, her future, her heart. She seemed more vulnerable, more at risk for hurt. I knew it wasn't true, I knew that she was just as strong and capable as she was before the diagnosis but ... there I was, worried.
In my fretting, I decided to make a list of everything that doesn't change in light of this diagnosis ...
1. She's witty, funny with impeccable timing
2. She is creative, arts & craft-y
3. She is caring
4. She is strong
5. She is loving
6. She is compassionate
7. She is a hard worker
8. She desires to do well all the time
9. She's a little mischievous
10. She worries
11. She has an excellent vocabulary
12. She loves to help
13. She is sensitive
14. She wants to be friendly and have friends
15. She has her own sense of style
16. She's independent
17. She's a reader
18. She has a fantastic laugh
19. Her eyes twinkle when she's hatching a plan
20. She is growing up too fast
My list went on and on ... over one hundred things that don't change because she has Asperger's. I also made a list of the things that do change because of Asperger's
1. We know better how to help her
2. ...
That's about it. When I looked at my two lists I exhaled and found my bearings. Everything's going to be all right. Nothing has changed. I'm not sure what got me worked up in the first place but I guess everyone's allowed a little crazy every now and then ... and some of us more than others! ;-)
Worrying is like a rocking chair, it gives you something to do, but it gets you nowhere. ~Glenn Turner
There. I've said it. I don't know why but in the days following the assessment and diagnosis I was nervous, scared for her, for me. I was worried that this little word, this diagnosis that I know so well, was going to change things for Crafty.
It's a funny thing, this diagnosis, it changes absolutely nothing about who she is but yet somehow it does. When Dude was diagnosed four years ago it came as a relief, like an answer to the world's most puzzling mystery, "What is wrong with my kid?!" Turns out nothing was wrong with him, he just has Asperger's. With Dude the diagnosis was a direction of travel, it was really no big deal. So why was I having such a tough time processing all of this with Crafty?
All of a sudden, I was worrying about things I've never worried about when it comes to my girl. I worried about her friends, her future, her heart. She seemed more vulnerable, more at risk for hurt. I knew it wasn't true, I knew that she was just as strong and capable as she was before the diagnosis but ... there I was, worried.
In my fretting, I decided to make a list of everything that doesn't change in light of this diagnosis ...
1. She's witty, funny with impeccable timing
2. She is creative, arts & craft-y
3. She is caring
4. She is strong
5. She is loving
6. She is compassionate
7. She is a hard worker
8. She desires to do well all the time
9. She's a little mischievous
10. She worries
11. She has an excellent vocabulary
12. She loves to help
13. She is sensitive
14. She wants to be friendly and have friends
15. She has her own sense of style
16. She's independent
17. She's a reader
18. She has a fantastic laugh
19. Her eyes twinkle when she's hatching a plan
20. She is growing up too fast
My list went on and on ... over one hundred things that don't change because she has Asperger's. I also made a list of the things that do change because of Asperger's
1. We know better how to help her
2. ...
That's about it. When I looked at my two lists I exhaled and found my bearings. Everything's going to be all right. Nothing has changed. I'm not sure what got me worked up in the first place but I guess everyone's allowed a little crazy every now and then ... and some of us more than others! ;-)
Worrying is like a rocking chair, it gives you something to do, but it gets you nowhere. ~Glenn Turner
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Doing is Better than Being
This has been a busy week so far and its only Wednesday!
We have been running and doing every minute of the last week. Mr. Awesome has worked late, the kids are adjusting to the new school year, I have been getting back into the swing of ... well, everything. I am juggling homework, school meetings, volunteering, working, writing, gymnastics, girl guides, curling, doctor's appointments, reading (for work), reading (for fun) and all the millions of other little things that come up in the daily life of a mom. On top of all this we are in the home stretch of our Random Acts of Service Challenge so we have all been busy crafting, painting and planning for our fundraiser this weekend.
Frankly, I'm exhausted and its only Wednesday, only September, only the second week of school!
In the midst of all this I had the opportunity to help someone who needed it today. I was in the right place, at the right time and I was asked to help out someone who is new in our town. To be honest, when I was first asked my mind flashed through the 8 million things I have to do before Saturday and I hesitated for a second. I still had to go shopping for the pancake breakfast, prep for more painting tonight, buy frames for our art work, prep for tomorrow's project, make a banner for the fundraiser and the list goes on and on. I'm too busy!
I'm too busy helping people to ... help people? Seriously?!
I shoved the list to the back of my mind and agreed to help ... and it was the best part of my day. I still have a lot of stuff to get done to help the kids in Africa, the kids in the hospitals and their families but taking the time to help one real person face to face, to hear her story and see her relief that someone cared enough to show up made my day. It reminded me that in all those busy moments of trying to do good I can't lose sight of the importance of actually doing good.
Being good is commendable, but only when it is combined with doing good is it useful. ~Author Unknown
We have been running and doing every minute of the last week. Mr. Awesome has worked late, the kids are adjusting to the new school year, I have been getting back into the swing of ... well, everything. I am juggling homework, school meetings, volunteering, working, writing, gymnastics, girl guides, curling, doctor's appointments, reading (for work), reading (for fun) and all the millions of other little things that come up in the daily life of a mom. On top of all this we are in the home stretch of our Random Acts of Service Challenge so we have all been busy crafting, painting and planning for our fundraiser this weekend.
Frankly, I'm exhausted and its only Wednesday, only September, only the second week of school!
In the midst of all this I had the opportunity to help someone who needed it today. I was in the right place, at the right time and I was asked to help out someone who is new in our town. To be honest, when I was first asked my mind flashed through the 8 million things I have to do before Saturday and I hesitated for a second. I still had to go shopping for the pancake breakfast, prep for more painting tonight, buy frames for our art work, prep for tomorrow's project, make a banner for the fundraiser and the list goes on and on. I'm too busy!
I'm too busy helping people to ... help people? Seriously?!
I shoved the list to the back of my mind and agreed to help ... and it was the best part of my day. I still have a lot of stuff to get done to help the kids in Africa, the kids in the hospitals and their families but taking the time to help one real person face to face, to hear her story and see her relief that someone cared enough to show up made my day. It reminded me that in all those busy moments of trying to do good I can't lose sight of the importance of actually doing good.
Being good is commendable, but only when it is combined with doing good is it useful. ~Author Unknown
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