Recently, Christian has become very afraid of germs and dying from them. He has started washing his hands so much that they are chapped and hurting him. Now, I have to stop him from washing them so much. We have had to put some good overnight lotion on his hands. My brother said "Hey, it is good that he washs his hands." But, I explained he goes to the extreme of things. He washes them before and after he does everything lately. Hopefully, we can get him to wash his hands when he needs to, and not every 5 minutes. :)

No school Staff breaks No work All adds up to probably one of the most trying times of the year. How do you survive the holidays?

Where Are The Parents? They are on the phone to doctors and hospitals and fighting with insurance companies, wading through the red tape in order that their child’s medical needs can be properly addressed. They are buried under a mountain of paperwork and medical bills, trying to make sense of a system that seems designed to confuse and intimidate all but the very savvy. Where are the parents? They are at home, diapering their 15 year old son, or trying to lift their 100 lb. daughter onto the toilet. They are spending an hour at each meal to feed a child who cannot chew, or laboriously and carefully feeding their child through a g-tube. They are administering medications, changing catheters and switching oxygen tanks. Where are the parents? They are sitting, blearly eyed and exhausted, in hospital emergency rooms, waiting for tests results to come back and wondering: is this the time when my child doesn’t pull through? They are sitting patiently, in hospital rooms as their child recovers from yet another surgery to lengthen hamstrings or straighten backs or repair a faulty internal organ. They are waiting in long lines in county clinics because no insurance company will touch their child. Where are the parents? They are sleeping in shifts because their child won’t sleep more than 2 or 3 hours a night, and must constantly be watched, lest he do himself, or another member of the family, harm. They are sitting at home with their child because family and friends are either too intimidated or too unwilling to help with child care and the state agencies that are designed to help are suffering cut backs of their own. Where are the parents? They are trying to spend time with their non-disabled children, as they try to make up for the extra time and effort that is critical to keeping their disabled child alive. They are struggling to keep a marriage together, because adversity does not always bring you closer. They are working 2 and sometimes 3 jobs in order to keep up with the extra expenses. And sometimes they are a single parent struggling to do it all by themselves. Where are the parents? They are trying to survive in a society that pays lip service to helping those in need, as long as it doesn’t cost them anything. They are trying to patch their broken dreams together so that they might have some sort of normal life for their children and their families. They are busy, trying to survive. Written by Sue Stuyvesant

10 things every child with autism wishes you knew... TEN THINGS EVERY CHILD WITH AUTISM WISHES YOU KNEW..:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />..:NAMESPACE PREFIX = O /> Some days it seems the only predictable thing about it is the unpredictability,. The only consistent attribute, the inconsistency. There is little argument on any level but that autism is baffling, even to those who spend their lives around it. The child who lives with autism may look "normal", but his or her behavior can be perplexing and downright difficult. Today, the citadel of autism, once thought an "incurable" disorder, is cracking around the foundation. Every day, individuals with autism show us they can overcome, compensate for, and otherwise manage many of the condition’s most challenging aspects. Equipping those around our children with a simple understanding of autism’s most basic elements has a tremendous effect on the children’s journey towards productive, independent adulthood. Autism is an extremely complex disorder, but we can distill it to three critical components: sensory, processing difficulties, speech/language delays and impairments, and whole child/social interaction issues. Here are 10 things every child with autism wished you knew. I am a child with autism. I am not "autistic". My autism is one aspect of my total character. It does not define me as a person. Are you a person with thoughts, feelings, and many talents, or are you just fat (overweight), myopic (wear glasses) or klutzy (uncoordinated, not good at sports)? My sensory perceptions are disordered. This means the ordinary sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and touches of everyday life that you may not even notice can be downright painful for me. The very environment in which I have to live often seems hostile. I may appear withdrawn or belligerent to you, but I am really just trying to defend myself. A "simple" trip to the grocery store may be hell for me. My hearing may be hyper acute. Dozens of people are talking at once. The loudspeaker booms today’s special. Muzak whines from the sound system. Cash register s beep and cough. A coffee grinder is chugging. The meat cutter screeches, babies wail, carts creak, the fluorescent lighting burns. My brain can’t filter all the input, and I’m in overload!! My sense of smell may be highly sensitive. The fish at the meat counter isn’t quite fresh, they guy standing next to us hasn’t showered today, the deli is handing out sausage samples, the baby in line ahead of us has a poopy diaper, they’re mopping up pickles on Aisle 3 with ammonia…I can’t sort it all out, I’m too nauseous. Because I am visually oriented, this may be my first sense to become over stimulated. The fluorescent light is too bright. It makes the room pulsate and hurts my eyes. Sometimes the pulsating light bounces off everything and distorts what I am seeing. The space seems to be constantly changing. There’s a glare from windows, moving fans on the ceiling, so many bodies in constant motion, too many items for me to be able to focus – and I may compensate with tunnel vision. All this affects my vestibular sense, and now I can’t even tell where my body is in space. I may stumble, bump into things, or simply lay down to try and regroup. Please remember to distinguish between won’t (I choose not to) and can’t (I’m not able to). Receptive and expressive language are both difficult for me. It isn’t that I don’t listen to instructions. It’s that I can’t understand you. When you call to me from across the room, this is what I hear: &%*@^$(%, Billy. %$^%$*+@$^ Instead, come speak directly to me in plain words: "Please put your book in your desk, Billy. It’s time to go to lunch." This tells me what you want me to do and what is going to happen next. Now it’s much easier for me to comply. I am a concrete thinker. I interpret language literally. It’s very confusing for me when you say, "Hold your horses, cowboy!" when what you really mean is "Please stop running." Don’t tell me something is a "piece of cake" when there is no dessert in sight and what you really mean is "This will be easy for you to do". When you say, "It’s pouring cats and dogs", I see pets coming out of a pitcher. Please just tell me, "It’s raining very hard". Idioms, puns, nuances, double entendres and sarcasm are lost on me. Be patient with my limited vocabulary. It’s hard for me to tell you what I need when I don’t know the words to describe my feelings. I may be hungry, frustrated, frightened or confused, but right now those words are beyond my ability to express. Be alert for body language, withdrawal, agitation, or other signs that something is wrong. There’s a flip side to this: I may sound like a little professor or a movie star, rattling off words or whole scripts well beyond my developmental age. These are messages I have memorized from the world around me to compensate for my language deficits, because I know I am expected to respond when spoken to. They may come from books, television or the speech of other people. It’s called echolalia. I don’t necessarily understand the context or the terminology I’m using, I just know it gets me off the hook for coming up with a reply. Because language is so difficult for me, I am very visually oriented. Show me how to do something rather than just telling me. And please be prepared to show me any times. Lots of patient repetition helps me learn. A visual schedule is extremely helpful as I move through my day. Like your day planner, it relieves me of the stress of having to remember what comes next, makes for smooth transitions between activities, and helps me manage my time and meet your expectation. Here’s a great web site for learning more about visual schedules: http://www.cesa7.k12.wi.us/newweb/content/rsn/autism.asp Focus and build on what I can do rather than what I can’t do. Like any other human, I can’t learn in an environment where I’m constantly made to feel that I’m not good enough or that I need fixing. Trying anything new when I am almost sure to be met with criticism, however constructive, becomes something to be avoided. Look for my strengths and you’ll find them. There’s more than one right way to do most things. Help me with social interactions. It may look like I don’t want to play with the other kids on the playground, but sometimes it’s just that I simply don’t know how to start a conversation or enter a play situation. If you can encourage other children to invite me to join them at kickball or shooting baskets, I may be delighted to be included. Try to identify what triggers my meltdowns. This is termed "the antecedent". Meltdowns, blowups, tantrums, or whatever you want to call them are even more horrid for me than they are for you. They occur because one or more of my senses has gone into overload. If you can figure out why my meltdowns occur, they can be prevented. If you are a family member, please love me unconditionally. Banish thoughts such as, "If he would just…" and "Why can’t she?...". You didn’t fulfill every last expectation your parents had for you, and you wouldn’t like being constantly reminded of it. I didn’t choose to have autism. Remember that it’s happening to me, not you. Without your support, my chances of successful, self-reliant adulthood are slim. With your support and guidance, the possibilities are broader than you might think. I promise you I’m worth it. It all comes down to three words: Patience. Patience. Patience. Work to view my autism as a different ability rather than a disability. Look past what you may see as limitations and see the gifts autism has given me. I may not be good at eye contact or conversatio, but have you noticed I don’t lie, cheat at games, tattle on my classmates, or pass judgement on other people? You are my foundation. Think through some of those societal rules, and if they don’t make sense for me, let them go. Be my advocate, be my friend, and we’ll see just how far I can go. I probably won’t be the next Michael Jordan, but with my attention to fine detail and capacity for extraordinary focus, I might be the next Einstein, or Mozart, or Van Gogh. They had autism too. - Ellen Notbohm

Invisible Woman Category: Life Invisible Woman It started to happen gradually. One day I was walking my son Jake to school. I was holding his hand and we were about to cross the street when the crossing guard said to him, "Who is that with you, young fella?" "Nobody," he shrugged. Nobody? The crossing guard and I laughed. My son is only 5, but as we crossed the street I thought, "Oh my goodness, nobody?" I would walk into a room and no one would notice. I would say something to my family - like "Turn the TV down, please" - and nothing would happen. Nobody would get up, or even make a move for the remote. I would stand there for a minute, and then I would say again, a little louder, "Would someone turn the TV down?" Nothing. Just the other night my husband and I were out at a party. We’d been there for about three hours and I was ready to leave. I noticed he was talking to a friend from work. So I walked over, and when there was a break in the conversation, I whispered, "I’m ready to go when you are. " He just kept right on talking. I’m invisible. It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I’m on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I’m thinking, "Can’t you see I’m on the phone?" Obviously not. No one can see if I’m on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I’m invisible. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I’m not a pair of hands; I’m not even a human being. I’m a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I’m a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I’m a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please." I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She’s going¸ she’s going¸ she’s gone! One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this." It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn’t exactly sure why she’d given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees." In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything. A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it." And the workman replied, "Because God sees." I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me,"I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you’ve done, no sequin you’ve sewn on, no cupcake you’ve baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can’t see right now what it will become." At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree. When I really think about it, I don’t want my son to tell the friend he’s bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table. " That would mean I’d built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You’re gonna love it there." As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we’re doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women. ~~Author Unknown..

To My Sisters Category: Friends Many of you I have never even met face to face, but I've searched you out every day. I've looked for you on the Internet, on playgrounds and in grocery stores. I've become an expert at identifying you. You are well worn. You are stronger than you ever wanted to be. Your words ring experience, experience you culled with your very heart and soul. You are compassionate beyond the expectations of this world. You are my "sisters." Yes, you and I, my friend, are sisters in a sorority. A very elite sorority. We are special. Just like any other sorority, we were chosen to be members. Some of us were invited to join immediately, some not for months or even years. Some of us even tried to refuse membership, but to no avail. We were initiated in neurologist's offices and NICU units, in obstetrician's offices, in emergency rooms, and during ultrasounds. We were initiated with somber telephone calls, consultations, evaluations, blood tests, x-rays, MRI films, and heart surgeries. All of us have one thing in common. One day things were fine. We were pregnant, or we had just given birth, or we were nursing our newborn, or we were playing with our toddler. Yes, one minute everything was fine. Then, whether it happened in an instant, as it often does, or over the course of a few weeks or months, our entire lives changed. Something wasn't quite right. Then we found ourselves mothers of children with special needs. We are united, we sisters, regardless of the diversity of our children's special needs. Some of our children undergo chemotherapy. Some need respirators and ventilators. Some are unable to talk, some are unable to walk. Some eat through feeding tubes. Some live in a different world. We do not discriminate against those mothers whose children's needs are not as "special" as our child's. We have mutual respect and empathy for all the women who walk in our shoes. We are knowledgeable. We have educated ourselves with whatever materials we could find. We know "the" specialists in the field. We know "the" neurologists, "the" hospitals, "the" wonder drugs, "the" treatments. We know "the" tests that need to be done, we know "the" degenerative and progressive diseases and we hold our breath while our children are tested for them. Without formal education, we could become board certified in neurology, endocrinology, and psychiatry. We have taken on our insurance companies and school boards to get what our children need to survive, and to flourish. We have prevailed upon the State to include augmentative communication devices in special education classes and mainstream schools for our children with cerebral palsy. We have labored to prove to insurance companies the medical necessity of gait trainers and other adaptive equipment for our children with spinal cord defects. We have sued municipalities to have our children properly classified so they could receive education and evaluation commensurate with their diagnosis. We have learned to deal with the rest of the world, even if that means walking away from it. We have tolerated scorn in supermarkets during "tantrums" and gritted our teeth while discipline was advocated by the person behind us on line. We have tolerated inane suggestions and home remedies from well-meaning strangers. We have tolerated mothers of children without special needs complaining about chicken pox and ear infections. We have learned that many of our closest friends can't understand what it's like to be in our sorority, and don't even want to try. We have our own personal copies of Emily Perl Kingsley's "A Trip To Holland" and Erma Bombeck's "The Special Mother." We keep them by our bedside and read and reread them during our toughest hours. We have coped with holidays. We have found ways to get our physically handicapped children to the neighbors' front doors on Halloween, and we have found ways to help our deaf children form the words, "trick or treat." We have accepted that our children with sensory dysfunction will never wear velvet or lace on Christmas. We have painted a canvas of lights and a blazing Yule log with our words for our blind children. We have pureed turkey on Thanksgiving. We have bought white chocolate bunnies for Easter. And all the while, we have tried to create a festive atmosphere for the rest of our family. We've gotten up every morning since our journey began wondering how we'd make it through another day, and gone to bed every evening not sure how we did it. We've mourned the fact that we never got to relax and sip red wine in Italy. We've mourned the fact that our trip to Holland has required much more baggage than we ever imagined when we first visited the travel agent. And we've mourned because we left for the airport without most of the things we needed for the trip. But we, sisters, we keep the faith always. We never stop believing. Our love for our special children and our belief in all that they will achieve in life knows no bounds. We dream of them scoring touchdowns and extra points and home runs. We visualize them running sprints and marathons. We dream of them planting vegetable seeds, riding horses and chopping down trees. We hear their angelic voices singing Christmas carols. We see their palettes smeared with watercolors, and their fingers flying over ivory keys in a concert hall. We are amazed at the grace of their pirouettes. We never, never stop believing in all they will accomplish as they pass through this world. But in the meantime, my sisters, the most important thing we do, is hold tight to their little hands as together, we special mothers and our special children, reach for the stars. Written by Maureen K. Higgens

We got a call late Wednesday afternoon that Harrison's stool sample results had come back and that he has a parasite. The doc's office called in a prescription and we've started him on it. Our appointment isn't until Monday and so I'm spending the rest of the time being a bit grossed out and wondering if there are others who have experienced this. He has a long history of putting nasty things in his mouth, although this is much improved at this point, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but I don't guess we'll ever know how long he's had this or what exactly caused it. I'm curious to see if and how anything improves after we get this issue cleared up. Anybody else have this with their child?

Christian has a bad habit of talking to himself. He replays movies that he loves in his mind. Often, he does this outloud, and everyone can hear him. I have tried teaching him to wait until he is not in public to do this. Today when I picked him up from school, he started "replaying" Stars Wars in his mind. I asked him what he was doing. He told me he was just talking to himself to keep from getting bored, and going to sleep. So for fun, I started singing a song to help him go to sleep. He looks at me and says "Mom, that just doesn't work anymore." He is so funny, and it is always amazing at the things I thought he would never be able to express or say, and he proves me and everyone else wrong.

I am writing this so maybe I can get some fresh perspective on the situation. Last week, Ryan got beat up by 4 kids after he got off the bus at the end of our road here. One grabbed his back pack and whipped him to the ground. Another kicked him in the back and stomach. One punched him in the stomach a few times. And another girl swung her backpack at him and caught him in the face. We didnt take him to the hospital because there were really no visable marks on him. And once I got him calmed down, he really insisted he was okay. He was pretty upset, I gave him a hot bubble bath and babies him a bit to calm him down. He has a really huge bruise on his back and he has a pretty large red mark (like a road rash type of thing) across his face because he got hit in the face with that back pack. Today, Monday the red mark is gone and the bruise on his back has really just turned a bit of yellow now. I never took pictures. NOTE: ALWAYS TAKE PICTURES!! Get this...DH goes around the neighborhood to see if anyone saw what happened. A PARENT says "yes, I saw it because it was in my yard here. I told my son to come in the house." Yes she is willing to talk to the police and was a witness. THATS IT??? Now, I ask you guys, if you saw a fight between 5 kids, what would you do? Go back in the house? Not that she knew my son is disabled but come on, does it really matter!!! So because it happened on the way home and NOT on the bus, we have got quite the run around. Also two different school (grade levels) here so no one wants to take any of it on. Calling it A GRAY area". Finally we called the police and because there was a quite a big disturbance in town it never got followed up on that night either. The priciple has pulled the 4 kids in the office and had spoken to them, gave them warnings. Thats it!! Had my 5 th grader (middle school) done this, he would have been kicked off the bus! Detention, something!! But because they are 4 th graders and in Elemantary school, they get nothing. So I follow up with the police dept today and they are taking it further. I at least am insisting that the parents be contacted. I am also trying to force the issue of getting him special transportation which he will be very upset over. He doesnt even want a ride to school because he said the kids will pick on him for that. God help me not to kill people and start working my way up the system!!

Recently, we were at a hayride with alot of friends. Of course, alot of the kids there have been around Christian (my autistic son) almost all his life. One of the ladies I was talking to made a comment about how good the kids treated Chris. I was really shocked. Not because they are mean to him. They aren't mean to him, but they do not even try to talk to him or include him in any activities. I don't even remember my comment back to her. It has bother me every since. At home, I told my husband, how can ignoring someone be "good to him"? Am I wrong to feel this way about the situation? I just wish somehow they can understand autism. Even though these people have been around him since he was 1, how can they not understand?

Where I prattle on about business and kids, and high hopes, and everything that is humanly possible...

I have accepted the fact that my grandson has Autism. But, let me tell you, this did not happen over night. I think it was about 8 months after the initial diagnosis before I fully accepted it. I was talking to his speech therapist the other day and I told her that I felt his autism is what made him so unique. Sometimes I am sad that I never got to cuddle him as an infant or listen to him coo and babble like most babies do. But, even though he missed these milestones he engages with us in different ways, and when he does come to us and want us to engage with him, well let me tell you, it is priceless. For being such a little tyke he is so much aware of his environment. We have double glass doors in the family room and nothing happens out those doors that he does not know about. We had the hardest time for awhile about the sun going behind the clouds. He does not like change and if the day started out sunny and the sun went behind a cloud he would fret over it. Or, the leaves blowing on the tree out front. We don't have much wind in the summer time, unless it is from a storm coming in, but during the fall we have more of a wind. He looked out the windows one morning and he kept fussing and I could not figure out why. I looked out the doors and did not see anything that was not supposed to be there but still he would bang on the door letting me know that something was not supposed to be. It took me a while to realize he was seeing the leaves move in the trees. Another hard time he has is if a car is parked out front. Then, right when he finally gets used to it being there, it leaves. This causes another stress for him because now it is gone. Some days, it the street is real busy I shut the shade on the doors. One of the things that he likes to do is spin. I happened on this by accident but I am so glad I did. Realizing this changed our lives instantly. You see, he would cry constantly. No matter what you did he would cry. I remember so many nights during the first 7 months of passing him back and forth between my husband and I. Nothing worked to console him. I would try to hold him and cuddle him while he cried and when I needed a break my husband would take over. I felt so bad, like a failure to him. I had so many emotions ranging from him not bonding to me because I was not his mother to thinking there may be something seriously wrong with him. One night I was so wore out and he had been crying for so long, I sat heavily in my computer chair and it spun a little bit. To my surprise he stopped crying! So I spun the chair around again... and he smiled... for the first time we got a smile from him. Now, I can't take spinning in the chair so I would lay him in my computer chair and spin him. We spent many late hours spinning him in the chair. But from that point on our lives got easier and he did not cry over 80 percent of the day anymore. He now has a GymSpin and a platform swing to meet his vestibular needs, I don't know what I would do without them. My other grandchildren enjoy the GymSpin also and in my next blog I will introduce you to them. Thought for today: Today is just and extension of yesterday with a little more seasoning added to it.

Here is a recent entry from my blog. I am thinking that sharing it here might be a good thing. http://blog.johnbigjohn.com So there are apparently two types of Roedel Blogs: 1) The ones in which are bathed in utter silliness. While it may or may not make you crack a smile...it certainly lowers your IQ for just glancing your eyes across it. and 2) The ones that are a bit serious. While they might have something semi-intelligent to say....it certainly is a lengthy read. I get messages and emails from the 6.5 people that read my blog about the differences between these two Blog types. There are people who demand more silliness, there are people who demand more serious, and then there are the people who request that I stop typing all together and actually get a job/life/purpose/hobby/fitness instructor/grammar book/. I understand where are three camps are coming from. My topics do range in extremes...and for that I apologize. However, I will say that this is perhaps the way my 25 watt brain functions. One day I am thinking about this...and the next I think about that. So with that being said here is a semi-serious blog. If you read it there might be something in here for you. If you read it and are unsatisfied I will send you a refund and a cookie. I was in Ohio a few weeks ago helping at a youth conference when I got struck by lightning. Not the kind that left my eyebrows sizzling...but the kind that reanimated my faith. Although at the time I didn't know I needed any spiritual revival, it is clear now in hindsight that I was as clueless to my own needs as my college academic adviser who once told me that he thought I should stay enrolled in my calculus class even though I had a grade lower then the present day dow.. (Note to that guy: I couldn't even understand the table of contents of the book!!!!!! You owe me the tuition for that class. And the cost of the book. And a little of my self-respect back!) While at the conference I was finishing up my part of the keynote when I talked briefly about our families experience with autism. I am always worried about doing that in public because although talking about it makes me feel better...I am uncertain that it is something that the audience needs to hear about. After all if there is anything I know about anything it is understanding the needs of whatever audience I am in front of. After our keynote was finished we spent some time visiting with the young people who were there. Which by the way is my favorite part of doing any ministry at all. Of course I really enjoy the stage time...but there is something magical about the personal connection I can make with someone whom I am trying to serve. Usually these encounters are pretty quick, and silly. It probably speaks to my nervous tick when it comes to meeting new people. As an introvert I go into a "make em laugh" mode. I am certain this probably annoying for % 98 of the population...but it keeps me from looking like I am having a root canal. So I was doing my typical after performance "ha ha" time with the rally go-er's when it happened. Lightning struck. It struck with a message attached to it's pointy electrical tip. The message was simple....."Why Not?" Suddenly in front of me was a 7th grade boy that was accompanied by a High School girl. He looked more nervous than I was....which immediately made me feel more comfortable. He told me his name and then he said something that surprised me more than the success of Tyler Swift. He said "I know you, and I know your family." "You do? Have you been to Wyoming" "No." Said the nervous boy. "Ok...so how do you know my family?" I asked while looking at the High School girl who was holding his hand. There was a long break in the conversation and then he said as he pushed his free hand through his brown hair "I know your family because I mine is like yours". Keep in mind that my brain works is clocked at seven levels below that of a normal human so I am certain that a wave of confusion splashed across my face. The older girl holding his hand look at the little boy while smiling and told him "Go ahead and say what you wanted to..." Although I am dense. I am not a complete dolt ,and I knew right away that this might be one of "those moments" in my life that I knew I'd remember. So I decided to just shut my soup coolers (lips) and hunch down next to the little guy. He was really nervous now and it looked like he might need a moment to get out what was on his mind. Time passed and the girl gave his hand an apparent squeeze. "It's ok. Say it." "Ok. Why not? Here I go...." the boy whispered to himself. He inhaled and then spoke again.... You family is like mine." He breathed. "Because we have autism too." "You do?" I asked with genuine surprise. "Yes. I have autism. I liked what you said. It is hard sometimes. But I want to tell you that I will pray for you" His words draped over me like a heavy table cloth. I was without the ability to say much. The only thing I remember doing was smiling and putting my hand on his shoulder and said simply "That would be really awesome of you". (NOTE TO SELF: Use the word "awesome" when talking about a meal, movie, or travel experience to Mexico. DO NOT use it in response to a complete act of selflessness.) It was apparent by the relaxed expression on his face that he had gotten out everything he needed to say and was getting ready to end our encounter. "Can I pray for you and your family?" I asked. I could tell he had to think about that for a second, as this was a little off script from what he thought might happen. With a very serious look he responded with "Yes. Tell your son he is not alone". CRACK!! BOOM!!! On that note he and the girl who escorted him over to me turned and melted into the crowd of people around us. I stood there for a moment in complete knowledge that I had just experienced something important. At the time I did not grasp the lesson behind the moment....but maybe I am starting to now. The lesson is "why not?". Makes sense right? Ok. Maybe I should explain that a bit. Here is a news flash: people are amazing...so treat them accordingly. Often times we treat each other with disrespect, dismissal, and self-righteousness. We bring the hammer down on those who do us wrong, and we feel power over those who may work for us. I know that it is easy to get in the mode of "I hate people:, We do not give people a break. We seemingly force ourselves to be angry at others. Here are a few excuses we give ourselves to dismiss or vilify other people: a) The way they drive. I drive perfectly. b) How they suck their teeth while waiting in line at McDonald's. I never do anything like that. c) The manner in which they raise their children. I am Ward Cleaver. d) The clothes they wear. I would never ever wear that. e) When they might act differently then we do. Why don't they just grow up? f) The Ring tones they choose for their cell. MC Hammer??? Really?? g) Because they screwed up my order at Starbucks. If I worked there I would never mess up an order. Ever! and on and on the list could go. We get stuck in thinking that people have to earn our respect/compassion/empathy/prayers/etc. That unless you are a family member or a friend then I have no use for you. I will put myself in a humanity vacuum. I will only reach out to those whom I am immediately connected with. I will only offer my friendship to those who pass my American Idol like auditions and deem you worthy. Why not have the courage of a little 7th grader with autism? Why not reach out and offer to pray for someone who you might not know, but who has the same struggles you have? Why not despite the gripping fear come and offer words of encouragement to a stranger? Why not let allow my life to impact someone else older than me? The little boy is my hero. He gets me thinking how we can be more like him. Why not try offering a few words of encouragement to the check out girl who seems miserable? Why not forgive the person who pissed you off ten years ago? Why not fight the need to judge someone we don't know? Why not assume that everyone is just as amazing as I might think I am? Why not stand up for people who cannot stand for themselves? Why not be willing to past my terror and reach out to complete strangers? Why not look for the goodness in other people, rather then the things that bother me? Why not give everyone the same amount of dignity we demand others to give us. Why not live as if everyone we meet could end up someday as a friend? Why not live what I claim to believe? That Christ is disguised in everyone I meet. What do I have to lose? Nothing. Thank you little boy with autism....and thank you for the lightning you brought with you. To quote you...."WHY NOT...HERE I GO....."

Does anyone else have problems with their child tattle telling? My son has always been one to tell on others if they broke any kind of rule. One of my sons teachers is fustrated that he tells on his other class mates all the time. I told him that he is a big rule follower, and it is hard for him not to tell if someone is breaking a rule. I would like to somehow teach him when it is a good time to tell, and when it is not?

Christmas is Solomon's favorite time of year. I dropped the kids off at daddy's work after school while I was headed with John to his psychologist appt. It had been flurrying most of the day but being in the school bldg Solomon did not take notice. Upon leaving to head home, he walked out of the building, held open his hands to the steady fall of snow and excitedly said: "It's Christmas!" I wasn't there to witness but when husband relayed this, in an unrelated moment, it just makes me smile, that he takes joy in such simple things. It's snowing, it must be Christmas time!

My first post on this site was the Checklist for Early Warning Signs of Autism. Boy, I sure wish I had that information when my little one was a couple of months old! During those early months with him we went through a lot of emotions, from fear of him not bonding to us to his overall health because he would not eat. He missed all of his milestones when he was an infant. The first time we became concerned that something was wrong was when he was about 2 months old and he would make any attempt to pick his head up and we had to be so very careful during tummy time because he liked to be face down with his nose pressed into whatever he was laying on. I was referred to Early Intervention when at this time and he started receiving physical and developmental therapy. At 4 months old he was not responding to noise or lights yet. He did not smile or make any noises except to cry, the only time he wasn't crying is if he was laying in my computer chair with it spinning. He did not have any interests in rattles or toys, he would not let you put them in his hands. I would place the rattle in his hand and wrap his fingers around it and shake the rattle but he would not even look at it. He also never would look at us. If we tried to get him to look at us he would do everything he could to turn his face away from us. He hardly ever slept more than an hour at a time and we had such a hard time getting him to drink a bottle. Even now, at almost 2 years old, he will only drink 4 ounces at a time. He has such sensory issues with food and would gag every time we tried him on baby food. He was sent to a speech pathologist and was diagnosed at 10 months old with Neurosensory Dysphagia. He had no interest in holding his own bottle and actually did not hold it until after he was 14 months old. Those first few months were so heart-wrenching for us. I felt like we were doing something wrong or was it because he was taken away from his mother and not able to bond with us? By the time he was 8 months old he was banging his head. He had just learned how to roll over and he would lay there and bang his head on the floor, and sit and shake his head back and forth, back and forth. So many nights I would cried sinlently inside realizing something was wrong. I had never seen a baby act this way before. He also had tremors in his legs, hands and chin. Our doctor sent him to a Neurologist because of the tremors and he did an MRI, CAT Scan, Fragile X tests, Chromosome test. The doctor also saw everything we saw at home. He could not get Hayden to look at him, he would turn away every time, Hayden would lay on the exam table and try to bang his head backward and noticed the general flat affect that he had. Then came the news.... The doctor said that he had Mild Cerebral Palsy, Hypotonia... but most of all he was concerned that he was Autistic. He gave me some pamphlets on Autism and how to contact our local Autism Society. I was in shock.... thinking .. he is only an infant... this can't be! Then came the denial... no it's NOT autism... he is just delayed... he will catch up! At 12 months old I could not deny it any longer. He still did not smile unless he was spinning, he did not coo or babble, he liked to be spinning and still did not like to be held. I started sign language with him at 12 months old and I was so surprised on how quickly he picked it up. He was 14 months old when he did his first sign (dog) and now he has over 60 signs that he uses. At 23 months old now he is getting a little better about contact with others. He will come and sit on my lap now, for about 3 minutes... but those are precious 3 minutes let me tell you. He has been in therapy since he was 2 months old and receives Developmental, Occupational and Speech Therapy through Early Intervention. He may never be a social butterfly but he is very smart and a joy to be around and never once regret my decision to raise him as my own. As a mother bear (MawBear) protects her cubs I will fight to the end for him and the person he can become.

Well things have been going good at school after the meetings and talks ect... school was taking on board that sean DOSE need more help. Which was good but like all childern you have off days. On this day sean was fine a kid on his table called him a BIG FAT IDIOT so sean got up and went for him which was wrong but when sean has enough of things he swiches off and gose mad. He was running round the table after the boy then the teacher shouted SEAN STOP BEING A LOONEY!!!!!!!!!! Well that tipped him over the edge he ran to the libary and sat down screaming and they left him like that till i come and all i got from sean was that the teacher called him a looney and the class giggled at him. it took a good 2 hours to get him back to talking to me and not shouting. went to school to day to have a chat with head and all he was on about was that sean didnt use the red card to leave the class!!!!!! Are schools going mad or is it just me :o(

You are bound to see yourself in at least one of theses... WHY GOD MADE MOMS Answers given by 2nd grade school children to the following questions: Why did God make mothers? 1. She's the only one who knows where the scotch tape is. 2. Mostly to clean the house. 3. To help us out of there when we were getting born. How did God make mothers? 1. He used dirt, just like for the rest of us. 2. Magic plus super powers and a lot of stirring. 3. God made my Mom just the same like he made me. He just used bigger parts. What ingredients are mothers made of ? 1. God makes mothers out of clouds and angel hair and everything nice in the world and one dab of m ean. 2. They had to get their start from men's bones. Then they mostly use string, I think. Why did God give you your mother and not some other mom? 1. We're related. 2. God knew she likes me a lot more than other people's moms like me. What kind of little girl was your mom? 1. My Mom has always been my mom and none of that other stuff. 2. I don't know because I wasn't there, but my guess would be pretty boss y. 3. They say she used to be nice. What did mom need to know about dad before she married him? 1. His last name. 2. She had to know his background. Like is he a crook? Does he get drunk on beer? 3. Does he make at least $800 a year? Did he say NO to drugs and YES to chores? Why did your mom marry your dad? 1. My dad makes the best spaghetti in the world. And my Mom eats a lot. 2. She got too old to do anything else with him. 3. My grandma says that Mom didn't have her thinking cap on. Who's the boss at your house? 1. Mom doesn't want to be boss, but she has to because dad's such a goof ball. 2. Mom. You can tell by room inspection. She sees the stuff under the bed. 3. I guess Mom is, but only because she has a lot more to do than dad. What's the difference between moms & dads? 1. Moms work at work and work at home and dads just go to work at work. 2. Moms know how to talk to teachers without scaring them. 3. Dads are taller & stronger, but moms have all the real power 'cause that's who you got to ask if you want to sleep over at your friend's. 4. Moms have magic, they make you feel better without medicine. What does your mom do in her spare time? 1. Mothers don't do spare time. 2. To hear her tell it, she pays bills all day long. What would it take to make your mom perfect? 1. On the inside she's already perfect. Outside, I think some kind of plastic surgery. 2. Diet. You know, her hair. I'd diet, maybe blue. If you could change one thing about your mom, what would it be? 1. She has this weird thing about me keeping my room clean. I'd get rid of that. 2. I'd make my mom smarter. Then she would know it was my sister who did it and no t me. 3. I would like for her to get rid of those invisible eyes on the back of her head.

I will be changing my profile information soon. It seems that Autism is much more than some people can handle. Life throws us our twists and turns and now I find myself single raising two children. I found this site to help promote Autism and share information with others and love coming to a community who understands how Autism affects everyone's life. For me, Jesse has been a blessing and has opened new doors for my human understanding and patience. Unfortunately, for his father, it was too much to take. We've been separated for some time now and as I try to date, Autism seems to be a barrier most men choose not to confront. So, I have come to the conclusion that I may be alone for quite some time and I'm ok with that. I love being with my kids and would do anything for them. For those of you doing it alone, I'm there with you. I just wanted to let everyone know why I haven't been around lately. Life got carried away.

I received an email from a friend and thought I would share it with everyone... Just wanted to let people know I heard that the energy efficient bulbs, the twisted looking ones that are suppose to last like 10 years, contain mercury and if they break in your house you have to call poison control. We never had one break but I warned pat anyway. We just had a one of those bulbs go out in our living room and it's only been there for like a year and a half. I called the number on the bulb 800-378-6998 and they are replacing our bulb for free, but I asked them about the mercury and they said yes, it's true, but you don't have to call poison control if you dispose of it properly. This is scary They said to wear disposable gloves or use a rag and don't touch any broken glass. Use sticky tape any kind to pick it up. After your done put everything in a sealed bag and throw away. That just sounded a little frightening. Since he told me to please return the burned out bulb to home depot recycle center. Of course, i t's not very safe to be throwing away tons of light bulbs containing mercury in our landfills. Especially to the people with children. I just saw an episode on TLC about a little baby girl like 1 year old got really sick and the hospital couldn't figure it out because there was no infection showing up on the tests. They thought the parents might have something to do with it and sent someone there to check the safety of their house and there was a mercury spill in the babies room on the floor under the carpet that had already been cleaned up. The child lived but had a long recover after mercury poisoning. They didn't know what the mercury came from because it was there before the people moved in. But I certainly would be a little panicky if a light bulb broke in my house near Myles. Just wanted to pass along the message. Shannon

So today was Christa's first official team meeting, one of many I suppose. I'm still trying to process the information that we covered and am questioning the vagueness. Maybe that's the point. It could be in order to move forward you have to leave room for change. At her meeting I expressed my frustration regarding her ABR being re-scheduled and verbalized that valuable time was not being utilized. They agreed but that provided little comfort. They set up a schedule that they thought would work for Christa, I told them I felt we needed to be more agressive and take advantage of this time. I am not looking for anyone to do this for me. Give me the knowledge and I will move mountains. This is my little girl, no one wants this for her more than me. I am her voice, I am her advocate, I am her Mom.

I am so thankful to a young man at our church. Last night I was discussing with him and his wife about the struggles my son is experiencing in Pre-Algebra. He does fine with the homework, but fails the tests???? This young man is in college and he is earning his degree in teaching Math. He told me he would tutor him at NO EXPENSE. I am so thankful to him. I found out today we have a test in Pre Algebra on Friday. I am praying the tutoring will help.

My son (now 15) has been bullied for six years now by the same kid. It started in elementary school when we first moved. A well meaning teacher decided to prepare her class for our son by doing a lesson on Aspergers sydrome. This backfired from her original intention. My son from day 1 was labled the odd kid, the one no one wanted to have anything to do with. He was bullied and isolated immediately. Over the years it has gotten worse and worse and the other kid has not let up at all. By middle school the situation had escalated from verbal harassement to an actual physical assault. My son tried to fight back but was over powered by the bully and his following of about 17 kids. The school had attempted to address the issue but their efforts usually made the situation worse. Now in high school, I have a son that honestly just can't take it anymore. He is fortunate to have one actual friend who has stood by him and constantly tries to reassure him. But, daily verbal harassement by a group of kids finally got to be too much for him. About a month ago, my son planned (in detail) his suacide attempt. Fortunatelly his friend found out and told a conselor and the school and we intervened before he could carry this out. Now my son is diagnosed with severe depression, on medication, in invidivual counseling and group counseling. He has said to this bully, "I don't want to fight you, I don't want to be your friend, I just want to be left alone." Unfortunatelly this has not happened so far. The school is trying to do something to help, but so far nothing has changed. I live in constant fear of how far this will go. I just don't know why after 6 years this kid can't just stop!

Being a Mom of a newly diagnosed, 19 month old little girl with Autism can be overwhelming at times. We are about 2 months into this new world and I find as much frustration today as the day she was diagnosed. We have resources in place but wait on tests that need rescheduling to determine where to go next. The doctors tell us time is on our side but what good is the time you have if you are left impatiently waiting. We are fortunate to live in an era where the internet exists but where do you begin to try and sift through all the information ? I find myself spending my spare time trying to find the answers that her physicians cannot give me. They tell me only time will tell...

My oldest son is named Chris. He has autism. Today, his dog dug out of her pen. She dug out yesterday also. Chris was upset today when we came home, and his dog is out of her pen. (He is afraid she will get in the road and get hit by a car). He cried about her getting out. It took him about 2 hours to calm down from being upset at her. Sometimes, I guess I just have to let him work out his own feelings. You would have thought his dog had died, not just gotten out of her pen unsupervised.

Today when I picked Seoc up from school he said "I wuv school, I wuv school, I wuv school" I so hope that we can keep this love of school when we transition to inclusion for kindergarden next year. I am tempted to keep him back and give him a chance to catch up developmentally but he is so advanced mentally I feel that may do him a disservice. He will turn five two weeks after kindergarden starts so he will be on the young side even without his delays. His teacher seems to think he will be ready but I get sick to my stomach thinking about it.

I came across this site on one of my groups.It's a page where you can share your story and learn about vaccines. http://www.cynthiaj anak.com/ OurChildren. html

My son is a high functioning mildly autistic child. He has big dreams about attending college. I do worry about the transition between high school and college. He is only in the 8th grade, but he will already have to start preparing for college next year with keeping up his gpa, etc. Has anyone had experience in this area?

How much can I take, I often wonder as I deal with another meltdown. Solomon wanting PBS on tv nonstop, John reiterating 'You're not listening' over & over as he is unable to process the actual directive or request. Upon dealing with that meltdown, another request comes at me, and another 'can you get me this?', 'I'm waiting for that', 'I need your help', and on it goes. 'your help' rings in my ears over & over. Make it stop! When do I get a moment to regroup, to calm before the next blow? And why won't husband recognize that I'm in over my head? Or am I? Is there more room inside me to keep going? I tell him, I can't do it. He looks at me like we're discussing a casual conversation, which are few & far between. Is he in denial, or just doesn't have the answer for me? I get tired. Tired of trying to figure out what Solomon's means, what he wants, what's wrong, how to fix it, how to handle it, what the right way to intervene, with Solomon, with John. They're so different. They handle things different. They communicate differently ... and yet they are so alike. But what if I'm wrong and I wait too long to change things. Wait too long to change programs, placements, interventions. I often wonder how much I can take before it's too much. And what will that look like? I guess as long as I have that voice inside me telling me to stop & walk away. Breathe. Calm. and cry. You'll be ok, it tells me. Then I can keep going.

Well, I am a little new to this. Just would like to say the being a mother to a child with autism has been rewarding so far. There are days that I would love to find a brick wall to bang my head on, and other days that God has blessed me with when I learn from my son the wonderful world God created for us.

News Flash! My son just began acting classes w/a professional in the business. I'm so excited for him! He's wanted to do this for years & had been begging me to sign him up for classes. And now that day has arrived. He took his first class this weekend & loved it! The actress teaching him (& my younger son) has worked w/quite a few well-known actors, one being John Schneider (Dukes of Hazzard), who's a father to an autistic son. So, I've passed on all the info I have on teaching acting to autistic students for her to read & review. My son loved the class. I can't believe the difference in him that I've seen in just one lesson. He's got more confidence, a better intonation in his voice, he's memorized ALL his lines, & can't wait to go back for the 2nd lesson. AMAZING, really! He's got 3 different scripts. 2 TV commericals & another short-script for TV. I'm really excited for him. This will help him communicate better while having fun at the same time. If you're looking to improve your kid's self-esteem & verbal communication skills, check out "Actors for Autism." You can google it. There's also a book entitled "Teaching Asperger's Students Social Skills Through Acting (All Their World's a Stage!) by Amelia Davies.

Thank you to all who replied to my blog posted back mid-Oct. I'm sorry...tried to post replies to each of you but nothing seemed to come up onscreen showing me that it actually went through. Maybe these replies post to you individually? Don't know! Well, just wanna say--everyone has the right to vent! Thanks for venting in response to my "Sick of Talking Autism" blog. Your feedback encouraged me. I don't feel so alone. We need to stay connected & unite! As my son says, "ONE for all and all for ONE!" So that's how I would describe my feelings about all of you after reading your replies to my blog. Thank you thank you thank you thank you. Did I tell you "thank you?" Just making sure you all know how warm you made my heart feel. So far this week is going good. We have 2 days off, which is nice! How's your week going?

This may be old news to some of you. But it was brought to my attention today and when I read it I got a headache and my blood is boiling. How in the heck can children and adults with Autism? How can you start a support group AGAINST AUTISM? What have our kids every done to this morons oh yes I said. This is pure form of racism and they must be brought down. Yeah Yeah I know we all have the right to free speech but not against children and adults how have had Autism put into their lives. So if you are on facebook please please please come and show support for our kids. Association Against Autism Yes! We are back! And under new ownership! We are The Association Against Autism. (AAA) We stand for the Normal people. And we are sick of seeing the autistic kids in our schools diluting our education system and demanding Government hand outs for being "Special" and that brings me to my point. They aren't special. So stop treating them as such. For instance when a normal person catches a base ball, big whoop, no one cares. but when a special boy catches one they call him a "Hero" and being Diseased and dirty doesn't make you a hero So please if you are on facebook let show our support for one another and let them know. OUR KIDS ARE HERE AND THERE IS NOTHING THEY CAN DO ABOUT IT

We started the Casein free diet this month we still aren't 100% but doing good and showing progress mostly with BM's, speech and play. Well today he actually Played with a little boy his age at the library. It was amazing!!!